Another not-so-great picture with two great people---Jane and HL Credle, with whom I ate a wonderful seafood dinner at The Frederica House tonight. Jane really hasn't been drinking, and I know I need to lose 30 pounds. It's really funny how the conversations with Anne last night and then Jane tonight have changed over the last 10 years. We used to talk A LOT about men----now we talk about retirement.

HL is a real character. He owns Credle's Boat Yard where he and his brother and assorted others fix and berth boats. He has lots of other irons in the fire, too. Right now, he and his brother are building the "Lady Jane," which will be the largest excursion boat in the Golden Isles.

They have all sorts of exciting plans for it. HL likes to tell my son Caleb that he is descended from Blackbeard...and he has lots of stories to tell. There's something about him being a cousin to one of the guys on the original Dukes of Hazzard too, I think.

I kept thinking about a phrase today, as I languished by the beach..."the latitude of grace." I think I need to think about that more. Not in the mood to preach here, but I certainly have been thoroughly enjoying God's good gifts of the sea and friends.

A True Story: Susan and Saint Simons Island

Once upon a time (January 1998) in a town named Columbia, there lived a UMC pastor named Susan. The church where she served had had a VERY interesting year. They received their first woman senior pastor; they bought a $3m modern one floor huge former insurance building, and they had had a successful capital campaign. Susan's life had been eventful for some of the same reasons...but also for some very sad ones as well. She and her then-husband Philip realized that their marriage must end (though they still somehow, to this day, remain in many senses a family). They had decided this in September of 1997, but did not want to tell the church until the capital campaign, and the building move were over. And so they had planned that Philip would move out on February 1. Sad. But then a terribly unexpected horrible thing happened---Susan's older sister Ellen was found murdered in her home the same weekend that Susan and Philip were to tell their children about the separation (Martin Luther King weekend). A former handyman, high on cocaine, who was later sentenced to life in prison with no parole, wheedled his way into her home, stabbed her to death and took everything of any value in her home, stealing also her car. Life for all of Ellen's family has never been the same.

It was a very dark time. And the people at that church in Columbia kept asking their pastor what they could do to help. And, finally, she said, "You know, I could stand a week at the beach," and lo and behold, those good Community (the name of the church) folks sent her all expenses paid to Saint Simons Island Georgia---which is, as we Methodist folks know, an interesting historical stop along the way to the Wesleyan Revival.

Well, it was Valentine's Day 1998 when Susan arrived at the King and Prince Hotel (swanky, swanky--the church folks spared no expense) late in the afternoon. Early that evening, feeling a little sorry for herself and not knowing exactly what to do, she decided to take a book (a collection of Flannery O'Connor short stories) and go down to the lobby and sit and read. Why she did this, she isn't quite sure now. But, but, it proved to be a very momentous if serendipitous decision. As she sat down at a table near the bar (note: NEAR the bar), and opened her book, she heard a gaggle (5 or 6) women her age descend upon one of the tables in the bar---no men, all women, having a good time. Susan went back to her book; but within 5 minutes, 2 of the gaggle were standing at her table saying, "What in the world are you doing sitting here alone reading depressing short stories on Valentine's Day??? Come and play with us!!!" Those two women were Jane and Anne. And they have remained good friends ever sense. Both are school teachers--Jane an art teacher and Anne teaches fourth grade. They had a great time that night, and Susan can't describe over the last ten years how many other times she has had a great time with these women, and some of their friends. Like tonight, when Anne and Susan met for dinner (see picture--sorry about the quality, but the smiles are real). As Susan started coming down about twice a year, sometimes staying at a less expensive hotel, at others staying at Epworth By The Sea, sometimes getting a vacation rental house or apartment, she realized how much like "home" St Simons had come to feel. Her son Caleb has become an admirer of Jane's son Anthony and his girlfriend who sings with "Circle Takes the Square." She also performed the marriage of Jane's other son two years ago. And three years ago, Susan bought (well, she and National City Mortgage bought) a small condo in the center of the island for retirement...it is rented out on a year's lease.

And it all began when a couple of teachers, whose eyes were open to a woman they had never met who looked like she needed to have some fun. Wow...a story of evangelism, I guess, at its best. John and Charles might not have been very successful in their ventures here, but a couple of women, Jane, a non-practicing Jew, and Anne, the small Scottish woman in the picture who is strongly Presbyterian (surprise, surprise) made a real difference in this woman's life because they had the kindness and courage to reach out to...yes, me. Praise Jesus.

Jacksonville Aiport's Meditation Room

A bit of blogging this week as I am on a mini vacation, which I need very much. I am on Saint Simons Island GA; those of you who know me, know my story here...maybe I'll tell it again later in the week. This blurry picture is the only one I could find on the web of something I saw today that was very interesting (I could not find my digital camera which had shifted to the bottom of my rolling backpack). I saw the sign , which says "Meditation Room" in the Jacksonville airport...and I was fascinated---both with the name of the room, and with the little person icon that is representing that this is a meditation room. As you can see, the little person icon is plainly kneeling. It isn't a picture of hands clasped in prayer or pointing toward heaven; not a picture of the five major religions symbols; not a picture of a pointy steeple or rounded mosque. It is a kneeling person. I looked in to see what manner of room this meditation room might be, and, to my chagrin, when I peered around the corner, on the door which I supposed led to the meditation room, I saw the words "Airport Chapel"...is chapel a Christian word? Any-hoo, the room actually did look inviting, with cushioned chairs (no kneelers I could see, though); soft lighting; some religious books around.

Kneeling. The little person icon is kneeling. We UMCers kneel---at least some of us, praise God, still kneel for communion (I have seen older folks cry when, for the first time, their knees will no longer let them kneel at the altar rail for communion); adults and youth usually kneel at baptism or at confirmation; those being ordained kneel; pastors sometimes kneel in prayer before the congregation; we kneel at healing services; we kneel when we get married (sometimes); I kneel when I go to Jacob's Well after the eucharist, though I don't think anyone else does. It fascinates me somehow that the meditation room is represented by kneeling figure, for some reason. If there were a prayer position for Lent, it would be kneeling. Knowing it is not we that made us, we bow in praise and thanksgiving---but mostly we kneel, I think, in order to show our souls contrite, sorry for the sin that long lingers in our souls, and knowing our need for God's grace. Kneeling in an airport meditation room might be a very good idea---and not just for those afraid of flying. For that fleeting moment this afternoon, in the midst of being very tired, of trying to hurry to get my bags, in the midst of thoughts about a called session of annual conference and appointments not yet made (I know I am on vacation, but...); in the midst of all of that, I shoulda NOT just looked in that room, but gone in and knelt before God my maker with joy and thanksgiving, and with my contrite heart, asking forgiveness for those thoughts and feelings which are not really worthy of a call to a higher life, and to experience anew God's saving grace. Maybe I'll do that on Thursday when I return to the airport---I have a feeling there still will be a need.

As you all of noticed, I have not blogged for several days--two weeks? Some have been asking about this. It simply is that appointment season is upon us and I am having to realocate my time. Appointment season means that I am traveling back and forth to Columbia at least once a week as well as being out and about to meet with churches. I made a commitment as a "featured blogger" with the United Methodist Reporter to try to blog three times a week, and I know I won't be able to do that. Additionally, it may be that I need a little time away to refresh my blogging. I do plan to return in June, and may actually write occationally between now and then, but not nearly as often.

Thanks to everyone who has been so kind to write or to speak to me this year about the blog. And I am continuing to be active around emergent/emerging issues. Today I lead a workshop for the South Central Jurisdictional communicators who are meeting in KC. Monday I go to Joplin to lead a Lenten day apart on all this with the Southwest district pastors.

I just wanted to let folks know that I'm still out there, trying to stay conversant in the language of post-modernity as well as modernity and doing my best to be the best d.s. and mom I can be.

So TTFN. And as Susan says, God's richest blessings on you and yours.

Mostly What God Does...and a Cheer Leading Story

This is another heck-of-a-week. Last night I worshipped in a service that was worthy of blogging, and much much more. At Jacob's Well, Tim Keel preached on forgiving our enemies---that as we really learn and pray ourselves into forgiving those who have calculatedly hurt us, our hearts beat more truly with the beat of God's heart. One quotation I remember, "Mostly what God does is love us."

Today, amongst many other things, I drove to Columbia for two 1/2 hour presentations by two churches in my district who were applying for grants from the conference in order to move into the next phase of ministry in their churches. I sat with Brian Roots during his presentation as he asked for a significant grant to help rent a warehouse where North Star needs to move in order to have "dedicated space"--they have met for 6 or 7 years in an elementary school on the west side of Liberty, and each Sunday, have set up and taken down for worship in the gymnasium. They have a trailer where they put the items, and call it "church in a box." Megan Sly from Platte Woods made an eloquent appeal for funds to help begin a new worship experience targeting younger adults. She was wonderfully prepared and well spoken as always. She had her senior pastor Steve Breon with her. I was Brian's "other person," and although I was not exactly sure what I was supposed to say, I said it with passion :) Form sometimes precedes substance with me...anyway, one of the gifts I do actually have is the gift of being able to project the energy that I feel when I am talking about something important to me and my faith...today it was getting North Star more settled as an interim step before the church can build on its land. As I was packing up my stuff after the presentation, I heard someone (it may have been Jon Spalding) say, "you brought a good cheerleader, Brian..." and Brian replied, "The best!" Which was probably the neatest thing I've heard anyone say in a very long time about moi. Don't worry---I have enough acknowledged faults to keep me humble.

Cheer leading, in this sense, is something I do well. But I remember one of my most painful experiences as an adolescent came when I was in the seventh grade, and I went out for cheer leading for the basketball team. I knew, somewhere in the depths of my heart, even as I practiced the cartwheels on the old mattress my dad had laid outside our house for me to fall on (and I almost always fell) that I would not make it onto the squad. I have never been physically very sure of myself and except for dancing, never had the confidence to try to make my round, short body to do any of those athletic moves expected even then of cheerleaders. My trying to do the splits only hurt me and everyone watching me. So the day after we tried out, when Mr. Wheeles, the principal came to our class and named the cheerleaders, I was not named. And it was the first time in my life when I had to smile one of those smiles that is plastered on and shakes, because your cheeks and your heart is really not in on it. I knew I was doomed to a life of unpopularity, and I could sing with Janis Ian, "I learned the truth at seventeen (really at 12) that life is made for beauty queens..." or cheerleaders. But today, I realized something new, and made a connection for the first time....although I will never in my life get to hold pom poms and stand in front of the bleachers as my team plays, my cheer leading days are finally here. Truth be told, they've been here quite a while. Cheering on the Community congregation to buy that old insurance building and move in; cheering on old Broadway to get that Ascension window covered and backlit so the neighbors could see it, not just those inside; and now, over and over again, as I see the big and small dreams that our pastors and churches have and are attempting to live out, I cheer lead for all its worth...it is a wonderful thing to be able to be in a position where I can be a vehicle for the gladdened heart of God because of these who want to rent warehouses, and begin new worshipping communities, and those who are still listening and looking for the vision that God has given and wants to give them. The cheer leading I do for Emergent is to be present, to give money when I can, and to always make sure I tell these folks how wonderful they are when I can say it authentically and to be a cheer leader for this conversation in the UMC. Whether with the churches and pastors in my district, or with those whom I know and sometimes worship with, and sometimes attend cohort meetings, conferences, teach, and dream with, whether UMC or Emergent, I certainly don't ever have to force the smile at my joy in what is happening, and although a poignant tear is shed, I know that the adolescent worry that I would never be popular, has been replaced in my soul with the assurance that I am a precious daughter of a God whose heart I know because I know Christ as my savior. I have learned the truth, and continue to learn it with each passing year, that life is made rich and robust because the thing God mostly does, which is to love us.

Easter Flowers

It snowed again today in Kansas City. Imagine that. Not too much this time, but added to this week's accumulation, most the city is white, and spring seems far away. So imagine my delight in finding, at the Westport Sun Fresh this afternoon, daffodils for sale, 10 for $2.99, and the very young woman working in "Floral" even gave me some of that magic powder stuff to make them last longer. When I was little, I learned to call these Easter flowers, (of course in southern Illinois speak it was "Easter flars") and sometimes, when I am not thinking, still do today. I love daffodils. I tried to find them to decorate tables at my 50th birthday party two years ago, but they are hard to come by in December. I have two paintings of Easter flars in my bedroom of the apartment, though my bedroom is also my living room. I also have some fake Easter flars in a big vase (did you know that many craft stores that sell artificial flowers only keep daffodils in season??? That you can't get them anytime but spring? Doesn't that somehow discount the value of artificial flowers...and just now, that Bobby Darrin song is playing in my head, "she made artificial flowers, artificial flowers, made from Annie's despair"...a very sad song, but one that made the charts, I think). Anyway, it's great having daffodils, Easter flars, real Easter Flars even before Lent begins. I believe this must be Transfiguration Sunday, for us Protestants, at least. Seeing Jesus again in all his glory, teaching us with the disciples that though the wrong seems oft so strong, God is the ruler yet...Easter flars for me sing that same song...we liturgical ones may be saying good bye to Alleluias this coming week until the Paschal Feast, but we're just kidding ourselves in a way...cause we know Jesus has risen and no matter how well we live out the passion and the pain and the Lenten journey the next several weeks, we know what kind of flowers will bloom in the end and it ain't no artificial flowers, is it??? I think heaven must be full of daffodils with bright yellow petals, and little jonquils and that sweet aroma of spring. And I can almost see Clinton and Lucille Cox, with their oldest daughter and their parents standing in that field, with the lift of the late April breeze in their hair, telling jokes and playing "Name That Tune" with old hymns, and looking forward to the time when all the world will flower as the Savior passes by..

KC Cohort Meeting

I am just back from the Westport Coffeehouse where the February meeting of the KC Emergent Cohort was held (hence the picture.) Tonight there were 6 men and three women; two Presbyterians (one of whom is a denominational executive, four Jacob Wellers;, including one of the pastors (and his mom, which was neat!); one E-Free pastor; and one UMC d.s. It felt really great to be there. We discussed Scot McKnight's article from Christianity Today which came out this month entitled Five Streams of the Emerging Church which we all agreed is an excellent primer for persons wanting a better understanding of the emerging church. Several times tonight, I sat amazed as I listened to the two co-workers from Sprint who are Jacob Wellians talk with passion and depth about cultural relevancy and relationship. David, one of those two guys, said that any more, when he is witness to a discussion on theology or faith, he just sits silently, because he is not sure that he understands the words that are being used ( words like "Arminianism" and "Calvinism" to "evangelical" and "liberal") in the same way that the two persons in dialogue understand it, and if he were to witness that discussion, the two people talking together, using those terms might not mean the same thing by them either. I think that is a mark of postmodernism, isn't it? One of those French guys, Lyotard, I think is the one who speaks about this. Anyway, a good time was being had by all when I left...they were still going strong.

There is a KC emergent blog by the way...here is the url: http://kcemergentcohort.blogspot.com/ This lets folks know what is going on and when.

I quoted Kendall about the need for ministry not just with the urban, hip, college educated folks that Emergent Village folks usually attracts (and please know, this Emergent Village stream is really is the manifestation of emerging church that I feel led to support and converse with); however Kendall talks about the need to share the faith with the NASCAR folks, yes, some of whom are urban, hip and well educated, but some of whom live their lives happily in small towns, working hard, having families, watching the same TV shows as their brother and sister city dwellers; visiting some of the same web sitesas their brother and sister city dwellers; and who are also living into that new cultural shift we call postmodernity. I need to think about this more.

And of course, today was the day that I had to get another phone...not another 8525. I may or may not 'fess up to what happened.