Sittin' on the Dock of the Bay...

In 1967, just days before his death, Otis Redding recorded the following lyrics:

I'm sittin' on the dock of the bay

Watching the tide roll away
Ooo, I'm just sittin' on the dock of the bay
Wastin' time

Well, this evening, after a long day at work and a difficult reentry in the world of exercise, I sat in the backyard in a swing close to the lake and just watched. I wasn't alone. Jack, a three-year old beautiful black lab was sitting next to me as I stroked his head and told him about my day. As we were sitting, instinctively I began singing that Otis Redding tune. I sang it a few rounds until it dawned on me; I wasn't wasting time. 

At that moment I had a revelation. My spirit echoed the words of Habbakuk: But the LORD is in His holy temple: let all the earth keep silence before him (2:19-20). As I sat, looking out on the lake, I was overwhelmed by the presence of God. The trees, the lake, the vast sky, and everything else in my view was in fact the temple of the Lord. I had been talking with Jack, but I got quiet. My head got quiet. My heart got quiet. My soul got quiet. There was a stillness that is reserved only for the reverence of Almighty God. 

I wasn't wasting time. I must admit, I have bought into the lie that if I am not doing something that I am wasting time. Well, my definition of doing 'something' has changed. Even as I sat there, seemingly doing nothing, I was acknowledging Almighty God. In that moment, I  actually discovered time. It was a time like none other. It was devotion time. It was prayer time. It was worship time. It was praise time. So I sat, and took it in. And Jack did too!

A lesson in the Cheerios© box...

Since I've been a preacher, my eyes have been opened wider to the profound lessons that show up in the everydayness of life. Some might call them kairos moments. When ordinary time stops and something extraordinary happens. This monring I has a kairos moment while eating Cheerios©.

 

OK, so really it happened before I even poured my cholesterol reducing breakfast into a bowl to enjoy. (See the post on balance.) I opened the box and looked so my hands could get a grasp on the inner plastic bag. When I looked down, I noticed something that struck me as odd. It was a plastic wrapped white and green piece of moulded plastic with a piece of white cardboard backing it. I was hungry and running late, so I didn't pursue the matter further in that moment.

 

While eating my Cheerios©, I did what most people do; I read the box. Well, on the back of the box I saw that the box contained an Ice-Age pencil topper. A ha! The mysterious piece of moulded plastic was a pencil topper. I wish I could say I was excited, but I wasn't. 

 

I know, I know. A five year old would have been excited for this Ice-Age pencil topper. Perhaps. But since I am a five year old at heart, or at least when it comes to toys found inside of cereal and Cracker Jack© boxes, I began to reflect on my disappointment. It wasn't my age, but it was the lack of surprise, anticipation, and mystery. I mean, the pencil topper was just handed to me. Almost twelve hours later, I still haven't opened the thing!

 

Back in the day, the toys were never just handed to you. You had to do one of two things to get a toy from the cereal box. Getting the toy either involved eating the ENTIRE box of cereal (my mother's preferred method for us) or digging you hand way down deep and getting kid cooties on every morsel of cereal until you finally had the prize in hand (you guessed it, my method of choice). Never, never was it just given to you. Of course, I always wanted the toy, but there was something exciting about waiting for it, earning it, digging for it, and then finding out which of the four I was going to get.

 

And so, as I drove to work this morning (did I mention yet that I am in Tennessee!!!), I further reflected on this situation. Perhaps I've been in Seminary too long, but I cannot help but think theologically about the prize in the Cheerios© box. I cannot help but know that God has something great in store for me, for us, but that it isn't going to be handed to us. In fact, when it is, we tend not to appreciate it. I also cannot help but think about my mother's preferred method of getting the toy. What a lesson. Wait for it! Enjoy the journey! Do what you need to do (in this case eat the cereal) to earn it! Anticipate it! And when you have gotten your nourishment, sit back and play with it...whether it is your dream job, your dream partner, overflowing joy, abundant peace, unfailing love, or an Ice-Age pencil topper!

 

So even as I do this shalom work in Tennessee, I know that I must get the nourishment I can from this experience. I cannot dig in and expect to see results, but I must wait because, "But those who wait on the LORD Shall renew their strength; They shall mount up with wings like eagles, They shall run and not be weary, They shall walk and not faint.” In other words, they that wait on the Lord will get the toy at the bottom of the Cheerios© box.

He guided me to Tennessee...

I believe I was in ninth grade when Tennessee came out. It was the first single released by Arrested Development. I was attracted to them as a group—the language, the history, the sociology, the anthropology, the activism, the truth, the justice, and the love that deeply shaped their experience, and consequently, their lyrics. (I must note, I also LOVED their bohemian, pre-dirty backpacker sense of style.) In some ways, these lyrics are apropos for this leg of my journey. (I’m writing this as I sit in my connecting flight from Charlotte to Nashville.) 

Lord I've really been real stressed

Down and out, losin ground

Although I am black and proud

Problems got me pessimistic

Brothers and sisters keep messin up

Why does it have to be so damn tuff?

I don't know where I can go

To let these ghosts out of my skull

Last year, I was quite stressed, navigating my way through ministry (church work, school work, work work). I’ve seen and heard some things that have caused me great distress: communities in despair, hopelessness, insecurity, lovelessness, and injustice. I’m not pessimistic, but I certainly do need a place/time to, as Speech of Arrested Development said, “let these ghosts out of my skull.” Decompression. Journaling. Reflection. 

My grandmas past, my brothers gone

I never at once felt so alone

I have been blessed with meaningful relationships this year, both at Drew and beyond, so I cannot say that loneliness is an issue. Though distance separates us, I’ve grown closer with my mother, praise be to God. Through prayer, intentional time to cultivate a relationship, I’ve grown closer to God. At times I’ve had moments of loneliness, but generally, I have felt both connected to God and the folks in my life. Feeling lonely is rather tough when you live in a house with two amazing women of God!

I know you're supposed to be my steering wheel

Not just my spare tire (home)

But lord I ask you (home)

To be my guiding force and truth 

For some strange reason it had to be

He guided me to Tennessee

But still, I’ve been doing much of the steering in my life. I, too, want the Lord to lead me and guide me, to order my steps. Actually, I know that He already has ordered my steps. Truth is, I want to walk in those paths of mercy and truth, purpose and destiny, that God has ordained and planned for me.

So going to Tennessee is as much about my own Shalom as it is about the Shalom of the people in Gallatin. It has to be that way, especially considering that we are woven together in, what Dr. King calls, “an inescapable garment of destiny.” As I move forward in my “being still” and listening attentively to God about my current and next steps, I am confident that the place where revelation and metamorphosis will happen is in Tennessee. For some strange reason, He guided me to Tennessee…

It is strange in that it a new experience, a place I’ve never been before, people I’ve never interacted with. By definition, to be strange is to generate a feeling of uneasiness and to cause one to be unsettled. Tennessee is strange in the newness of it all, but I’m not unsettled. I am trusting God.

©Image taken on US Airways FLight 1021 en route to Nashville, Tennessee

© Tennessee by Arrested Development, 1991.

Balance... (Accountability pt. 2)

balance |ˈbaləns|

noun

1 an even distribution of weight enabling someone or something to remain upright and steady: slipping in the mud but keeping their balance | she lost her balance before falling.

• stability of one's mind or feelings : the way to some kind of peace and personal balance.

• Sailing the ability of a boat to stay on course without adjustment of the rudder.

2 a condition in which different elements are equal or in the correct proportions : overseas investments can add balance to an investment portfolio | [in sing. ] try to keep a balance between work and relaxation.

I want balance in my life--I am tired of living in extremes. During the past two years, I have managed to be a scholar/student par excellence while totally abusing my body. Truth is, I am either a junk-food junkie or a health nut. I am either like Jackie Joyner Kersee or like Mr. Potato Head. I was thinking about India.Aire's song "Back to the Middle." I don't know if I've ever been there, but I certainly want to be there in the middle. Look at the definition of balance above. The words that jump out to me are upright, steady, stability. The sentence that caught my attention most was, "she lost her balance before falling." My God—I don't want to fall, and Lord knows, somedays I feel my foot slipping. 

Folks are talking about sustainability when it comes to the planet (and I get with all that), but right now I am more interested in sustainability when it comes to me life. The truth is, if doctoral work is in my future, if I am going to be a student for the next 5-7 years after I leave Drew, then I have to figure out how to stay on my "A" game (engaging the mind) while being a good steward of my body and spirit. I want to be the "me" that God created and called me to be. I want to know who I really am, and embrace it. I have come to terms with my body—my fleshy, womanly body. I've tried it, and size 10 is not for me. My optimal self, my humble self, and my healthy self is a curvaceous size 14. I want to live a long healthy life for God, myself, my future husband, and our future kids. I want to be a preacher/scholar who cares for her temple. So, below is a plan for what I think balance looks like in my life now, and some elements that I would love to look up 50 years from now and still be doing.

Operation Balance (Summer 2009)

Mind: Prepare daily for GRE exams by studying vocabulary and math before bed. Make time to play while in Gallatin/Nashville: swim, visit museums, parks, and eat great food!

Body: Sleep 8 hours each day, take a multi-vitamin daily, eat 5 fruits/vegetables each day, and walk 45 minutes at least 3 times per week.

Spirit: Open my ears to the word and direction of God by adding journaling and meditation each morning to my daily routine. 

Again, I type all of so I can be held accountable. Ask me how things are going? Lovingly encourage me. I promise to do the same for you...

Change of Tune...

            The tune to which my life plays out has always been do be do be do...  In other words, I am a doer. Anyone who knows me, well or peripherally, knows that I am a doer. I won't go into all of my doing here (my head will start to hurt), but let's just say in the last year I've had seven or eight simultaneous jobs while carrying 15 credits at school. I am a doer. Sometimes I wonder why I do so much. Perhaps it is people pleasing. Perhaps it is restlessness. Perhaps I do not know how to say no. Perhaps it is the way I understand my value as a child of God/human being. Perhaps I need a change of tune.  

            In fact, Dr. Heather Elkins would say that I need to change my tune, so "be-ing" comes before do-ing. Be do be do be... It sounds awkward. It seems out of step. I'll have to learn a new dance, but  apparently, that is the memo that God has been sending me over the last two months. God has been whispering and shouting, in the day and night, through written word and song, in my heart and from the mouths of others that I need to be still and know that he is God (Psalm 46:10). I am fully aware that I am moving into a new season in my life, where being still and knowing God is the order of the day. It is a new thing for me, but I am confident that it is the right thing for me. So, I've pared down my class schedule, my jobs, and my extracurricular activities. I am going into the Fall just be-ing, so I can discern what God would have for me to be do-ing.

            Here is where God's wicked sense of humor comes in...Yesterday, my roommate and I were running errands. On our way back into our apartment, we stopped in the foyer at a box of books. Being the book junkie that I am, I had already scavenged the box for good finds. (one such find was Loving the Body: Black Religious Studies and the Erotic edited by Dr. Anthony Pinn and Dr. Dwight Hopkins.) She wanted to stop and take a peak, so we did. As I looked through again, I noticed a book that I had not seen on my first hunt. I picked it up and chuckled to myself. Thoughts danced in my head: Ok, God, I get it! OK, God, I'm going to slow down. OK, God, you win! OK, God, be-ing, be-ing, be-ing! The book that I held in my hands (that is now in the suitcase I will take with me to Tennessee) is Mediations for Women Who Do Too Much by Anne Wilson Schaef.  

Just in case I did not get it, God sent a message loudly and clearly—a message that I can meditate on 365 days of the year. 

I still believe... (Accountability pt. 1)

I wrote the following two weeks ago in my Communities of Shalom Training session. We were discussing prophetic imagination:

I still believe that…all human beings, including the least of these, would know and walk in their value as chosen, royal, holy, and cherished children of God. I still believe that the gray cloud of despair that looms over cities worldwide will be lifted so the people of God will be warmed by God’s light. I still believe that education is a right for all and not a luxury for some. I still believe that our differences are what make us unique, and that our differences will be points of connections and not divisions.

I thought I would share this, not so you could be impressed with my thoughts or words, but so that I could be held accountable. Accountability is a lost art in our churches, communities, and societies. I cannot speak for the ancient or recent past, but I know that I have witnessed people's disgust, whether in the political sphere or on my block, when others try to hold them accountable for their actions. Folks don't want to be responsible for what they do or say. They want to be free to do as they please without any consequences or question. I believe that true freedom comes when people love you enough to question what you are doing and why you are doing it.

So...hold me accountable, please. Make sure that what I am doing is in line with my vision. If I'm acting crazy, call me out on it (with love, of course). Allow me to hold you accountable. Don't call me a "hater" if I call you out on something. Let us reason together, and help the other grow into the people that God would have for us to be, doing His will.

Musings: Flu, Celebration, Shalom, & Kendra

Much has happened since I last blogged. I got the flu. You know the kind. The "end of semester" kind of flu. The "my body thinks it has permission to shut down" kind of flu. The "take a box of tissues to your ethics exam" kind of flu. The "I don't care if you have to preach 900 miles away" kind of flu. 

But the flu has flown, so I need not dwell there. There is much to celebrate: I finished my second year in Seminary. (Yeah!) I delivered the message at the Esther/Jeptha youth service in Albemarle, NC on Saturday. (Yeah!) I hung out with my best friend who I haven't seen since March. (Yeah, and see picture!). I had a fabulous time traveling with my mother. (Double Yeah!) 

I'm switching gears from spring to summer, which for me means packing up my room and getting ready for my time with the Shalom Zone in Gallatin, TN. I packed up my books last night, so the majority of my packing is done. I received my Shalom books in the mail. I bought some dresses to keep me cool in Gallatin. I made it through Shalom training. I booked my air travel to Nashville. I also reserved a rental car. My summer is moving full steam ahead.

But until then, I have some celebrations around my niece's college graduation. I cannot believe how fast she's grown and how amazing she is. I remember being in fourth grade, days before she was born, telling Neville Gibson (RIP) that he could be her godfather. Who would have known that Neville would only live long enough for her to turn 3 years old. Who would have known that she would have grown into such a gifted woman, especially after dilk and bites (that was Kendra talk for milk and grapes). She is so fresh that I look forward to our collabos, where words and art intersect to transform the world.