Malawi Adventure: Eh, Sleep Is Over Rated

I slept for 8 hours Sunday night, but very lightly. I was not worried just excited, I think. I had started packing more than a week in advance so as to avoid the last day rush and frenzy. I was all packed and my check list that Sheryl France Moran gave me (VERY exhaustive) was all scratched off. Thanks to Kelly King, Corrie Hawes, and Sheryl, I had all my teaching (and learning) materials packed and ready to go, as well. I was ready. But the anticipation and adventuresome nature of this trip just would let me go into deep sleep.

My flight left LAX at 10:50 p.m.--past my most optimum bed time. I was tired. The problem was I would be in the air for less than five hours AND would lose three hours going coast to coast so would arrive in D.C. at 6:45 a.m. (3:45 a.m. body time). I did sleep all the way. Sitting up, of course. Though a dear member of SCPC offered to upgrade me for this leg, there were no first class seats available. The flight was full. I slept four hours this time, but very lightly. Two nights short, light sleep.

From this point on I can't really tell you when I slept or for how long with all the time zone changes, the lights going on and off in the airplane, an 11 hour flight to Addis Ababa. They served meals several times on the plane but I could not figure out what meal it was supposed to be. I tried sleeping on and off but mostly off. Then a layover for two or three hours.   Then another 3 hour flight to

Llongwe. Thank God for providing a young woman from North Carolina who is working on her PhD in Llongwe who sat down beside me in the Addis airport. Little did she know when she made that choice of seat that she would have a hanger on for the remainder of her return trip to Llongwe! Totally disoriented that is what I am.

Perhaps disorientation with a gracious face mixed in is exactly the kind of training I needed to prepare me for the days ahead. This, too, probably part of God's humorous plan--very little that is familiar but what I need will be provided. And most of all, a gracious host in Louise Laubsher who picked me up at the airport and began my training almost immediately.  I have heard so much good about her that I would trust her with my grandchildren! Here I am, Lord. I am available. Make me usable and use me. (Stolen from Dick Innes.)

The last leg of the journey

Sent from my iPad

Malawi Adventure: Humorous Disruptive Providence

Just two months ago I would have had no idea that I would be sitting at LAX waiting for a flight that will end in Africa--Malawi to be exact. Two months ago I could not have explained where in Africa Malawi was or told you anything about the country or it people. And yet, here I sit, waiting to go to Malawi and teach discipleship. How can something like this happen?! I believe that God in his great and creative providence has a sense of humor, too.

San Clemente Presbyterian Church has had a significant relationship with ministry in Malawi. Groups and individuals have been going to Malawi for several years. The head of staff was scheduled to go on this trip. But he has received and accepted another call and will be leaving in July. His sense was that good stewardship required someone to go who would be around longer. Enter stage left. Me. I was thrilled he invited me. I have always wanted to go to Africa. However, I was not sure I was the right person. The Mission Committee deliberated and supported my going. Still, it seemed like a significant (and rather abrupt) interruption of what I was developing in discipleship for San Clemente Presbyterian Church. I have been working on developing a discipleship experience--a "boot camp" of sorts--that will be replicable in several forms and eventually change the very culture of discipleship at SCPC. The planned launch of this first discipleship experience was February. It is February and I am leaving for two weeks. So, we bumped the launch for a month. And, we decided it might even be possible to teach the same material in Malawi that I was developing for SCPC.

As the curriculum and plan for the very interactive, very customized, very Spirit dependent discipleship experience came into focus I was amazed. Not only was this trip not going to be an interruption, this trip would be my own personal "boot camp" to test the principles I would be teaching in San Clemente, in a culture in Africa I know nothing about. It will require me to be very interactive with the participants. It will require that I talk with individuals enough to help them figure out how these principles will play out in their context--customized learning. And, it will require me to be totally dependent on the Spirit of God to help me connect with these dear people and to humbly learn alongside of them. Truths (capital T) have to be truth everywhere if they are kingdom of heaven principles and not just cultural adaptations of Biblical concepts. The good Lord is sending me to Africa to teach me to follow and trust him more fully so that I will be better equipped to teach others. Who would have ever imagined. I believe the Lord is sending me to Malawi to prepare for San Clemente!

So here I sit. Thinking about how very much I will have to learn in order to teach. Thinking about how very wise and wonderful and humorous the God we serve is. 

The Great Leveling Table

I sat quietly after communion with tears filling my eyes and slipping down my face.  Today I had the sacred privilege of taking communion with a beautiful older woman suffering from dementia. I could not help but think of my father who died in 2006 after seven years of struggle with the disease. I never got to take communion with him after he became ill. I lived too far away to see him more than once or twice a year.  I wondered if anyone did—if after the onset of his dementia he was able to participate in the shared meal with other believers. I was brought to tears because I would have loved to experience that with him. I was brought to tears because I miss him.

But sharing communion alongside a beautiful older woman with dementia  brought me to tears for much more profound reasons than my own grief and loss. This experience of sharing the body and blood of Christ together from such different places in life was a powerful reminder to me of just how leveling the table is that Jesus set for us. At this table there are no titles, no credentials, no superior intelligence or any other hierarchy. There is only the table set for us with the gifts of God for all who are willing to come with nothing but their sin and gratefulness. And this reality—coming together with only our sin and our gratefulness—is what allows us to experience the presence of Christ in the deepest way.  With all our sin that stands against us, the emptiness of our hands, the utter bankruptcy of any of our earnings,  opens  our hearts and makes room for us to experience the fullness of Christ who is completely for us. An older woman being stripped of memory and a younger woman being stripped of pride together hearing the words, “the body of Christ given for you,” and “the blood of Christ poured out for you.” 

This precious woman could only express in minimal words her delight in participating in the meal but her serene face and her sweetness of spirit touched me deeply. And her willingness to go to the table with me—a stranger to her—was also humbling. She took my hand so willingly and so lovingly. Together we remembered—each as much as we were able—Christ’s death on our behalf. All my seminary education, all my years of preaching and teaching about the meaning and significance of the sacrament of communion and this beautiful sweet woman suffering from dementia taught me so much more.

The table that is Christ’s is the great leveler. Rich and poor, strong and weak, brilliant and simple, educated and uneducated, young and old, of every tribe and nation are all welcomed to the table because of who Christ is and what Christ has done for us.  Nothing more.  

Letting Go: Email Loss

I have been blogger gone for the last few months. Changed ministries, changed houses (three times!) And now finally getting settled. So, I am returning to be an occasional blogger. Inspired by the change of email  from former ministry to this one I am contemplating loss and new beginnings. For a pastor it is more complicated. 

In days my email from my previous church will be taken down. After almost ten years there will be no more fpc.candie@. The “fpc” is for First Presbyterian Church of Downey, California. I finished this call the end of October 2012 and began a new call at San Clemente Presbyterian Church. For a variety of reasons it has taken almost five months to get to the place to shut the email down. I find myself a little sad about this. I know why. It is not about email. It is about deep relationships and dear people who I had the privilege of serving for almost ten years.

Professional pastoral ethics and just plain good ministry sense requires that when a pastor leaves a church they leave in such a way as to allow a new pastor to enter and begin to build relationships that will become deep and dear. It is clearly the ethical way and clearly good common sense. But that does not make it easy or any less of a loss for those who experience it. Good pastoral boundaries are easy to explain but very difficult to live out. Pastors are human. Pastors have needs. Pastors are invited into sacred and intimate places with people that bind in ways words can never adequately explain. When you have married and buried and baptized, laughed and cried at hospital bedsides and court-related proceeding you are joined with others in ways that can run much deeper than blood. And yet, in the beginning, we are invited because of a professional relationship that was established—called through a process to be a pastor. And at some point, long or short lived, we are called as a pastors to take leave—the professional relationship ends. A new one must begin. The relationships that run so deep must be given time and space to make room for another pastor to enter and thrive. The payroll and services provided end.  The advice and counsel ends. The officiating  of life events ends. The daily intersecting of lives ends. But the love and the deep connections do not end. Ever. They cannot because they are spiritually rooted and spiritually nurtured, and intended to build an eternal kingdom. It is just difficult navigating the “already but not yet” nature of these relationships that have a temporal beginning and ending, but are eternity bound.

This is my second time navigating these boundaries. The first time was easier because I moved 2000 miles away. This time I am only an hour away. It is more difficult. The Lord knows, I KNOW the principles! I am part of a group in our presbytery that provides oversight and support for these places in ministry. But as good boundary training teaches, boundaries are not always impenetrable brick walls. Sometimes they are more porous and more like bougainvillea bushes. I am grateful for the Presbyterian way of ministry that provides advice and counsel for pastors like me in these places. But I must switch roles from one who advises others to one who receives it. This, too, is not easy. Knowing it and living it are two very different realities.

As this old email shuts down, I am grateful I have a new email. I have a new ministry. I have new opportunities to grow deep and dear relationships in sacred spaces. All these, past and present, are gifts from above. Letting go means days of sadness, days of joy. There is sadness in the loss, but there is also joy in knowing these are friends forever. Just last week two couples from the very first congregation I served visited us here in Southern California. It was sweet reunion for sure. No brick walls. All bougainvillea! As the song by Michael W. Smith says, “Friends are friends forever/ If the Lord’s the Lord of them.”

Nine Gnarly Years

Don gave me the cactus the first year I came to Downey. It was a
gnarly looking cactus in a big clay pot. The thorns were long and
black and, unlike many cacti, could be easily seen and avoided. I
called it my Don Juan cactus.

Don was a very handsome and gregarious eighty-one-year-old man and as
charming as they come. He was very active in the community and the
church, and had a reputation for two things: the gift of gab and
public prayers. He loved both and often they would mix.  His public
prayers frequently became long and flowery gab sessions with God. He
loved plants, too.  He had a back yard full of plants. Plants of every
size and shape and type spilled over into every space. Don loved
giving away clippings or complete plants. He gave me a cute little
potted cactus for my office to welcome me to First Presbyterian Church
of Downey.  He also gave me a clipping of a long and winding cactus. I
had no idea what I was going to do with it, and it really was not much
to look at. But I had a new back yard and was eager to begin filling
it with native flaura. Don showed me the big gnarly old cactus in the
big clay pot and told me he wanted me to have it. What was I going to
do with this? There was no way I could get it in my car. Don said that
was not a problem. He would deliver it later.  Understanding the
importance of accepting generosity in developing new relationships, I
agreed.  A few days later the big gnarly potted cactus arrived.

For nine years I watered the cactus on and off--not very consistently.
It did not seem to matter.  It actually looked quite nice in our back
yard and was a consistent conversation piece with new visitors. A few
years ago I found a very large spider hiding in its gnarly and thorny
branches.  When the spider ventured out one sunny afternoon far enough for me
to get a look at it, I discovered it was a black widow. In a
cold-blooded attempt to kill the spider, I sprayed the heck out of old
Don Juan with insecticide, determined to drown the spider if the
chemical did not kill it. Surprisingly Don Juan wasn’t phased in the
least by the chemical warfare. But old Don did not seem to be growing
either. If it was, it was imperceptible to daily observation. I never
measured the height either so I am really not sure if it has grown at
all. And seemingly, no new branches (is that what you call cactus
parts?).

At about seven years I realized the large and prominent thorns were
probably a danger to small children and since I had grandchildren on
the way we moved old Don Juan from along the main walkway to our
covered patio  into the back corner of the patio. Out of the way, it
posed less threat of harming anyone and it wasn’t doing much anyway.

Then it happened. In July of this year when I was watering plants, I
saw it. At the very top of the old gnarly cactus was a small bud about
the size of a large walnut.  After nine years the old gnarly cactus
was blooming! Just a couple days later a beautiful white and pink and yellow
flower opened atop old Don Juan. I was stunned. It was stunning. After
all these years with little sign of growth, this old cactus put out a
gorgeous flower.  The flower only lasted a day. Nine years of gnarly
waiting and then twenty-four hours of stunning beauty. I must say it
was worth waiting for.

And I must say that it caused me to think.  I thought about Don, who
gave me the cactus. He had died just three years after I arrived.
Every time I saw the old gnarly cactus I thought about Don. I thought
about how pleased he would be to know that I and the cactus had
persevered and now the cactus had bloomed.
It made me think a lot about people. So often I work with people and I
see so little visible sign of growth. Often, they also have thorny
exteriors that can cause others to avoid them or result in them being
put somewhere  more out of sight. Sometimes their lives hide things
that, when they come out--like the black widow spider--can cause an
overreaction in those around them who are trying to help.Thankfully,
these people often survive these ill-conceived remedies. And, like gnarly
old Don Juan, all of a sudden a bud appears. All of a sudden what
seemed to be a person who couldn't produce anything worth looking at,
presents a flower. A beautiful flower from a gnarly old cactus.

The analogy falls apart here because in my experience when this kind
of blooming happens with people, it usually lasts more than
twenty-four hours.  Although the flowering of a person might take a
long time, once it begins, it almost always continues, and the
blooming becomes more visible and more frequent.  I am so glad I
accepted the gnarly gift from Don. And I am so glad that I did not
kill it with chemicals. And I am so glad that, though I moved it to
the back of the patio, I continued to water it on occasion and that I
was there when it flowered.

The Lord has blessed me with many such encounters with flowering
people. I pray that the Lord will continue to give me the patience and
allow me to be in such places to see the flowering of his beloved gnarly
creations.

Smart Phone Balance

We were on a sunset cruise in the harbor in Newport Beach, California. I got the tickets online at a 50% discount--$25 per person with unlimited beverages. It was our 37th wedding anniversary and I wanted to surprise my husband. It was a very cool evening but this meant the sky was clear and we would have a wide open view of the sunset when it arrived. It began at 7:30 p.m. and sunset was not until 8:30 p.m. so we had time to see some of the incredible harbor homes and boats docked alongside them. I had to work hard not to be taking pictures the whole time. I took a picture of an enormous speed boat to send to a friend that likes them. I took another picture of a home built on a rock wall in the harbor to send to a friend who loves architecture. Then I thought to myself, I don’t want to give so much attention to taking pictures to show others that I fail to really enjoy the view in the moment.

So I put my camera phone away and determined to just take in the view and experience the cruise in real time. With my nose out of my own cell phone I immediately noticed how many other people were on theirs. Lots of people were sitting or standing next to each other. But the vast majority were doing something on their cell phones and not paying any attention to the cruise or to the person they were with. Oh well, it was still light out and maybe they were waiting for the grand finale—the sunset.  The sunset was cool. The lack of any clouds prevented any serious color other than that of the sun itself. But over the water it is always spectacular to see the sun set—that enormous bright orange disc gradually shrinking into the waves and disappearing as a brilliant pinpoint of light on the horizon.  An added bonus on our way back into the harbor after sunset was all the harbor lights. Most of the homes and harbor businesses, including a Ferris wheel, were strung with white lights. It was enchanting.

It was then that I noticed the glowing face. Now way past sunset the boat was dark. Sitting diagonally from us on one of the boat benches with her back to the water and view was a woman with her face glued to her cell phone. The light of the smart phone screen created an eerie glow that lit up her face. It reminded me of the old movie Tron. I expected at any minute for her to disappear by being electronically sucked into her phone.  Here she was paying good money to see a sunset harbor cruise and she was totally captivated in her cell phone world.  Just over her shoulder behind her and all around was a panorama of lights and colors reflected from the sky and water. She was really missing out.

I wonder how much of the beauty of the world and people around us we are missing out on. Don’t get me wrong. I really like my IPhone.  It is my calendar, my GPS, my news source, and my main means of communication professionally. I have the amazing ability to connect with friends and family far away with pictures as well as words.  There is a needed balance, however. I see people sitting in restaurants all the time connecting by texting or emailing with people, who knows where, and sitting right across from them is a person from whom they seem very disconnected. I see people so glued to their cell phones checking sports statistics and surfing for good deals on all sorts of products and services all the while completely missing out on conversation and discovery of relationships physically in front of them.  It was when I took my phone out to snap a picture of this woman glued to her phone that I realized that I got sucked in. Determined as I was to leave my phone in my pocket I took it out and snapped a picture of the irony. And as I did I was part of it. I could not resist. This was bloggable. This has a lesson for me and others so enchanted by and so dependent on our smart phones.

The lesson is one of balance. I will continue to use my smart phone to connect with all sorts of people at all sorts of times. But this glaring example of missing out on a sunset cruise has deepened my commitment to paying attention first to the people and world around me, then, as time and occasion allows or requires, to use the amazing technology available through my IPhone.  I have recommitted to not missing out.
Here are four guidelines and one idea I try to live by with my smart phone:

     1. When I am with someone else for a limited period of time, i.e. lunch with a friend/colleague or
          overnight with a relative or friend, I turn off the sound on my phone.
     2.  When I am with someone else for a limited period of time, unless I am expecting an emergency or
          time critical call, I do not answer the phone (or check texts or emails!). This is especially important if I
          am with someone who I do not see on a regular basis and someone calls who I do see more regularly.
     3.  If I am expecting a time critical email or text or phone call, I apologize and tell the person ahead of
          time that I am waiting for an emergency or time sensitive communication  that I will need to attend to
          briefly (i.e. when someone in my congregation is dying, I will accept a call or check a text or email
          from one of the family members).
     4.  I try to inform friends and family who I communicate with regularly about these guidelines so they will
          understand when I do not answer a communication immediately.
     5.  One last idea: I try to go without my smart phone once a week even if only for a couple of hours just
           to mediate my dependency! I dare you to try it!

How do you ensure that you are not missing out? Do you have any helpful hints for others on how you maintain balance? I still need help so would love to hear what you do! Please leave your comments.

My Love Hate Relationship with Technology

I love that I can talk to my one year old granddaughter on facetime and receive pictures and videos as often as my son and daughter in law are willing to humor me. They live two hours away so otherwise it is usually a couple of weeks between times I get to see her.  But I hate that I can be with a person who I really adore and they are more often on their cell phone—texting, checking email, googling something, or answering the phone—more than they are interacting with me.  And it is not just my friends and family. I see this all the time when I am out and about. People all over the place together, but not really because each are on their cell phones doing other things. If it is like this now with those of us who this technology is new to, what will it be like for my granddaughter?

She already is more interested in her IPhone (an old cast off first generation one not fully functioning anymore) than any other toy she has. At one year old she knows how to turn it on and how to unlock it and slide the screen to change pictures or applications. The first time I saw her begin to demonstrate these skills she was only about ten months old! She is especially captivated by pictures and movies of herself. Now at her first birthday party she sits pleasantly enjoying her new little beach chair on her iphone. What will communicating be like for these children raised on this technology? I am not an all doom and gloom kind of gal. So I do not see this as the end of authentic human relationships or the complete demise of genuine social networking. But I do wonder how the dominance of it--music, movies, texts, email, googling-- will impact the way people relate.

Because of the ready availability of the camera on the smart phone a person can take pictures and videos anytime, and decent ones. Yet, this immediate availability of recording significant life events and moments means that we are in some sense once removed from the event  and moment itself. Recording it and watching it later is never quite the same as actually being there and experiencing it.  I frequently have to tell myself to put down the camera and just enjoy. It is hard. Because there are so many new ways to share these moments with others who cannot be there. And because I am a writer and a communicator I know that there will be numerous occasions to use these captured moments for wider communication, and in my case, ministry. Case in point—this picture of my granddaughter on her first birthday in her new little chair looking at her IPhone!

Here’s what I think we will need to do to help mitigate the potential negative consequences of this preoccupation with technical communication.

First, set boundaries for our children. Like has been done with the use of computers and video games, time limits should be set for children using these devices.

Second, create real life interactive opportunities for your children. It is not very compelling to lure them away from an interactive multi-media screen to read a book. But if you build a relationship with your child or grandchild by reading books together using props and animated voices (it does not require an acting degree to do this, just love and risk) they just may choose reading a book with you over their video screen.

Third, ahead of time prepare activities that are interactive and tactile—plant a flower together,   finger paint and then go to the store to pick out a mat and frame and find a place on the wall to hang it.

Fourth, take a walk, for goodness sake, and a simple scavenger hunt can make it quite inviting for a child!

Finally, as was the case with computer and video game technology, do not leave your children to interact with technology alone. Play games with them. Look at pictures and movies with them. Plan together to write an email, or make a phone call to a loved one. Be a part of their social networking and technological communication.

I will continue to love and hate this technology.  I can choose to be intentional and creative about how it is a part of my life and the lives of those I have influence over.  Just got a text with a movie attached of my granddaughter chasing a cat around the courtyard by her house. She is leaving for three weeks on a trip with her parents. This IS time critical. I will catch you later.