The Iona Creed

My systematics group (three very different Christians and one Unitarian Universalist) has to write a creed that we can all agree on. One of the group members showed us the Iona Creed to help spark discussion and thoughts... I think it's pretty wonderful, so I thought I'd share it in case you haven't heard it before:

We believe that God is present
in the darkness before dawn;
in the waiting and uncertainty
where fear and courage join hands,
conflict and caring link arms,
and the sun rises over barbed wire.

We believe in a with-us God
who sits down in our midst
to share our humanity.

We affirm a faith
that takes us beyond a safe place:
into action, into vulnerability
and onto the streets.

We commit ourselves to work for change
and put ourselves on the line;
to bear responsibility, take risks,
live powerfully
and face humiliation;
to stand with those on the edge;
to choose life and be used by the Spirit
for God’s new community of hope.

Amen  

Put On Some Clothes

Outward appearances: people seem split on their importance. We proclaim “inner beauty” yet, The Society Pages.org states that beauty spending “adds up to a $160 billion-a-year worldwide”[i] industry. What we say and what we believe certainly seem to be two different things.

Now, if you’re a member of my home church, you may recall the sermon where I trashed my prom dress, proclaiming that the Divine didn’t care what we wore while we did the work we are called to, so long as our hearts were in the right place. I still hold this to be true, but I’d like to make an amendment – what we wear makes a difference, not in God’s eyes, but in our own. The clothes may not make the proverbial man, but they may help the man see himself more fully.

So why the shift in perception? I tried on pastoral robes.

I didn’t even have to look in a mirror – I felt like a minister. My friend Kelly said I was “just glowing.”

Pictured: Bioluminescence.

Now, I know my ministry didn’t start with putting that robe on. Obviously not. Ever since I first felt this stirring to serve six years ago, I’ve been working to answer this calling – going on visits to friends in hospice, providing music, preaching, serving on committees, organizing community events, helping lead worship, teaching confirmation, and leading the high school youth ministry.

But, honestly, when I put that robe on, it was a sudden affirmation of what I’ve known in my heart but never really owned – I’m going to be a pastor. I’m going to walk with people on their spiritual journeys. I’m going to sit with them in times of sorrow and we are gonna dance together in times of joy.

Nothing changed. I didn’t hear the voice of God saying “Now that you have these robes on, you can really begin your ministry.” But it was a kick-start almost. It was a reminder.

My grandfather loves to tell me that ministers don’t paint their nails or have tattoos or dye their hair. I know all of this is based in his concern for my well-being and his love for me. I would always laugh and shake my head. But I see where he was coming from. I think I get the underlying message – if you don’t present yourself as a minister, other people won’t see you as one. And I’ll give in a little bit – you need to see yourself  as a minister, you need to own your calling, before other people will see you as a minister. Just like my little sister will one day have to own her calling to Mr. Berry-dom (i.e. teaching literature and film classes to high school students) before she begins to teach. Just like we all have to own our purpose in life.

And, no, you don’t need to be wearing certain clothes to own your calling in life, but if it helps you understand yourself and see yourself more in the role you feel called to, is that a bad thing? My vote is ‘no, it’s not.’

I guess what I’m getting at is, sometimes, what we think is a just a superficial outward appearance is actually our inward selves radiating out. And when your inner self is reflected out for the world to see – through your actions, attitudes, and, yes, even clothes – that is a beautiful thing.

Own it friends. And if you need a little help owning it, put on some clothes.

---

[i] http://thesocietypages.org/socimages/2009/05/15/the-beauty-industry-spending-and-routines/

Home-Maker

There are some things I’m really good at. I pride myself on my ability to blow bubbles with gum not labeled “bubblegum.” I’m well-practiced in asking for hugs, making space for myself, frosting sugar cookies, and making up little songs. I know the fine art of soaking in any little bit of sunshine on a winter day, and I’ve gotten really good at making a place feel like my home.

I’m not sparse when it comes to decorating spaces. I like to fill shelves with tchotchkes and stack books, hang pictures of friends and framed maps of places I will, one day, visit. I’m crafty and so my space is often filled with things that reflect my somewhat off-beat sense of self.

On the day I moved into my new space at school, I had pictures and shelves hung before going to bed that night. My res rep came to my room and commented on the “great job” I’d done decorating.

But decorating only goes so far. We can fill a place with any amount of knick knacks or framed prints, but we have to put ourselves into it if we’re going to make a place feel like home.

And I think I have to revise my previous statement, because I couldn’t make any place feel like home without other people.

When I go on trips, the hotel becomes “home” because that is where me and my friends or family come together at the end of the day. The hotel is the place where we unpack our suitcases and ourselves after our big adventures. The hotel is our little place together in the world and, even if just for a few days, it is home.

When I moved to school, first I decorated. It was nice and organized but it wasn’t yet home. Now, my school is my home. It is a place where I feel safe, where I feel loved, where I feel embraced for who I am no matter what that entails. This is the place where I come back to after a particularly long day at work, the place where I cry when my heart is broken, the place where I run to when I have good news. Why? What makes this place my home?

The people.

The buildings and the location and the decorations are just the physical markings. These people are the people I trust with my secrets, with my sadness, with my joys, with my challenges. These are the people who I open myself to, to share their struggles and their happiness and even their thunderous, stormy days.

And if it’s the people that make this place a home, then I’ve got homes all over the country. Forget about millionaires and their summer homes. I’ve got about seven homes chock full of heart in Connecticut, a home overflowing with love Florida; I’ve got a home in Vermont, two in Maine, one in New York, one in Louisiana. I’ve got homes in Texas and California, Washington State and Washington, D.C.

The long and short of it is this: I’ve got so many homes because there are so many places where I know that someone loves me, where someone I am deeply connected to has decided to place themselves in the world. I’ve got homes where I’ve got memories, where smiles were shared or tears were shed, and, sometimes, both at once.

No reflection on home would be complete without the old adage, “Home is where the heart is.” Home is where the heart is, and we are blessed to have hearts so big that our home can be many places all at once.

As I ready my home here in Massachusetts for my trip back to my home in Connecticut, I remember a quote from Maya Angelou, “I long, as does every human being, to be at home wherever I find myself.” And that is my hope, friends, that you and I both will know we are at home, wherever we may find ourselves.

Peace & Love.

I Give Up...

Lent is quickly approaching. This Wednesday, many of us will go to church, receive the imposition of ashes, and give up something for Lent.

Last year I gave up alcohol, the year before that sweets of any kind, and so on... And while "giving these things up" made going to the bar or dessert a little less enjoyable, I realize, for me at least, there was nothing in them that actually worked on my relationship with the Divine.

This year, I'm giving up one thing and taking on another.

I'm giving up negative self-talk. So, when I jokingly say negative things about myself or when I say negative things about myself and mean it, or when I catch myself thinking negative things about myself... I'm going to stop myself and say a short prayer/affirmation.

I'm taking on the practice of simplifying my own life - speaking in material terms - and of giving to those in need. I will make at least one run to Goodwill each week. I will not buy any shoes/clothes/etc. during Lent. Basically, if it's not food or school supplies, I don't really need to have it. And too much stuff, materially, tends to make me feel claustraphobic and cluttered emotionally, so we'll work on that this Lent by trying to trim it out of the material in an effort to help out on the emotional side as well.

What are you doing for Lent?

Where Is Church?

So this morning, I had intended to go see one of my sweet seminarian friends preach. That plan went out the window when I woke up at 10:05. I considered going to an 11 o' clock service at another church, rushing around to get ready and hop on the T... but it occured to me, what I really need right now is some "me and God" time... And I felt like walking. Yes, in the -2 degree wind chill, the best thing for my faith this morning was a walk.

So I packed up my laptop in my backpack, figuring I'd get lunch somewhere after my walk, and I took my iPhone (with headphones) and bundled up like Arctic Barbie and headed out into the blustery winds with The Decemberists' The King Is Dead as my soundtrack.

Here is a track-by-track of my spiritual formation this morning:

Don't Carry It All:
Beginning of song - This was a bad idea. It's cold outside.
Middle of song - Oh, wait, the sun is shining. I'm breathing. Things are not that bad.
End of song - Right, then. Things are actually pretty good.

Calamity Song:
I'll admit it, I broke into a kind of dance. The kind of dance you can only do with nine layers on. Sometimes this song makes me really happy.

Rise to Me:
Okay, God. I get it. Good morning, how are you? Thanks for checking in.
The lyrics of this song don't actually make sense in relation to the feeling it imbues in me.

Rox in the Box:
"Of dirt you're made and to dirt you will return.
So while we're living here,
let's get this little one thing clear,
There's plenty of men to die,
you don't jump your turn...
What were you meant for?
What were you meant for?"

January Hymn:
It is January. I can identify with this song. This song is good stuff.
"What were the words I meant to say before she left,
when I could see her breathe lead where she was going to.
Maybe I should just let it be,
and maybe it will all come back to me.
Sing oh, Janu, oh, January, oh."

Down By the Water:
Okay, this song doesn't actually inspire much... but it continues the good feeling.

All Arise!:
"But you keep on stealing, you keep on stealing,
yes, you keep on stealing 'til there's nothing left to steal."
I like this song too.

June Hymn:
I now have this calm that was not there when I woke up this morning. It is quite pleasant.

This Is Why We Fight:
I'm now in Starbucks contemplating this good feeling that has manifested itself in my brain.
"This is why, this is why we fight,
This is why we lie awake."

Dear Avery:
"Don't you shake alone, please, Avery, come home."

It's good stuff, friends.

And I think feelings like this are a big part of why my idea of church is so nebulous and unformed. What constitutes as church? Why does the order of worship and which hymnal we use matter so much? Why do I need an old white or stone building to minister to others?

No, I know that I don't. I don't know what my ministry is going to look like, but I hope it includes cold morning walks and indie folk-rock albums.

Longing & Hope: The First Sunday of Advent

This past Sunday, while I was home for Thanksgiving break, I was blessed with the opportunity to preach at my home church. I told some people who couldn't make it out that the sermon would be up on my blog... so here it is!

"Will it Always Be Winter?"

By Maddie Downer

(Isaiah 64:1-9, Psalm 80:1-19, 1 Corinthians 1:3-9, Mark 13:24-37)

            Today is the first Sunday of Advent. In the United Church of Christ’s lectionary calendar, the theme of this Sunday is longing. Here in our church, we use different themes for the candles. The first Sunday’s candle is hope. I had originally written a sermon about longing, about waiting for something, it was called “Sitting, Waiting, Wishing.” This is not that sermon.

            Last night I was thinking about my sermon and I realized that talking just about longing, just about how Isaiah is yearning for God to make his presence known, that’s only half of it. Longing without hope is a deep and dark place. Longing without hope is despair and loneliness. But, we believe that our longing will be answered, that there will be a light in the darkness, while we are longing, we are filled with hope.

            I thought of a favorite Christmas song of mine, “In Like a Lion” written by Relient K. They originally intended for the song to be a part of the soundtrack for the Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe, the movie based on the book by CS Lewis. So, whether or not you know the song, you probably know of the book, maybe you’ve seen the movie. Just in case you haven’t been exposed to this great work, here’s a brief intro:

            Four brothers and sisters, Lucy, Edmund, Susan, and Peter Pevensie are sent to live in the countryside during World War II with Professor Digory Kirke; first Lucy, then Edmund, and finally all four Pevensie children find their way into the land of Narnia through a wardrobe in the professor’s house. When they find Narnia, the land is in a state of endless winter, a state it has been in for a hundred years already.

            Relient K’s song, picks up on this key fact, “it is always winter but never Christmas.” They are always longing, but where do they find hope? The chorus of Relient K’s song says,

Cause when it's always winter but never Christmas

Sometimes it feels like you're not with us

But deep inside our hearts we know

That you are here and we will not lose hope

           

The Biblical writers know that feeling well, that waiting on the Lord, the deep longing. We know it, too. Have you ever yearned to be closer to God? Have you ever felt like God was silent, or too far away, or you were too disconnected? I’m sure we’ve all felt a seemingly endless winter at some point… Maybe we felt like people couldn’t understand  us, like an illness had no cure, like we had no hope… Those are our winters.

This is Isaiah’s winter:

Oh, that You would rend the heavens and come down,

That the mountains might quake at Your presence

Behold, You were angry, for we sinned,

We continued in them a long time;

And shall we be saved?

6 For all of us have become like one who is unclean,

And all our righteous deeds are like a filthy garment;

And all of us wither like a leaf,

And our iniquities, like the wind, take us away.

For You have hidden Your face from us

And have [c]delivered us into the power of our iniquities.

And the Psalmist’s in Psalm 80:

                        4 O LORD God of hosts,

How long will You [d]be angry with the prayer of Your people?

5 You have fed them with the bread of tears,

And You have made them to drink tears in [e]large measure.

6 You make us [f]an object of contention to our neighbors,

And our enemies laugh among themselves.

            And in chapter 13 of the gospel of Mark, Mark’s is cautioning – we don’t know when the Lord will come again, so be alert. The sense of disconnection, of waiting, of longing to be with the Lord once more, is there.

            Here, two thousand years later, we are still in the middle of a winter – we are still waiting on the coming of the king, on a new heaven and a new earth, we are still longing to be fully present to the divine, we are still longing for peace and justice for all people, we are longing for a world where children don’t go to sleep hungry, where parents don’t have to decide whether to pay for the house or pay for health insurance, a world where the other 99% of the population is treated fairly, where people aren’t treated as less than based on their gender, their race, their religion, or what-have-you, a world where who you love doesn’t generate hate from others, a world where “ism’s” and “phobias” don’t exist… we’re so far from that now, we’re in one heck of a winter, we’re longing for a change in the weather…

            Thankfully, in our longing, there is a deep sense of hope. Isaiah held onto this hope in the midst of his longing:

            5 You meet him who rejoices in doing righteousness,

Who remembers You in Your ways.

8 But now, O LORD, You are our Father,

We are the clay, and You our potter;

And all of us are the work of Your hand.

9 Do not be angry beyond measure, O LORD,

Nor remember iniquity forever;

Behold, look now, all of us are Your people.

The Psalmist finds hope as well:

            18 Then we shall not turn back from You;

Revive us, and we will call upon Your name.

19 O LORD God of hosts, restore us;

Cause Your face to shine upon us, [n]and we will be saved.

In the New Testament, the disciples’ hope lies in the return of the Lord, the second coming of the King, which they eagerly await. Our great hope, too, lies in the Lord.

However, something Mark said made me think that just waiting wasn’t enough. Mark tells us to ‘keep alert!’ which I think means, start acting now. Keep alert to the injustices in the world and the ways in which God would want us to respond to them. Do all we can in love, work towards respect and equality for all people, cultivate peace… In the middle of our winter, we can sow the seeds of hope.  We must be alert, but not idle. For if the master of the house returns, do we want him to see the house the way it is now? Servants oppressing other servants, some starving, some fighting, the house in disarray? Or do we want to prepare the house as best we can?

We’re headed into the physical season of winter now. The days are shorter, the nights are longer, the air is colder. But, like the Biblical writers anxiously awaiting the coming of the messiah, we too have a reminder of this hope in Jesus Christ, in our remembrance of his birth, in our remembrance of his death on the cross and the great hope that his sacrifice gives to us. We have hope because believe that Christ has died and Christ has risen and Christ will come again.

I encourage you, this winter, to take a look at the places in your life, in our church and community, in our world, that are longing for something – for change, for attention, for love – and start infusing these darkened places with hope. Light a candle, say a prayer, sit with God and recognize the brokenness of our world, our selves… and recognize that in God there is hope, that all things might be made new, that it might be winter now, but soon, yes, soon it will be Christmas.

Colby Chapel

Today I went with my friend Caitlin (who is part architect, part student, all awesome) to see Colby Chapel. Colby Chapel is a chapel on the ANTS campus that isn't used anymore because the school leases out the building to an architecture firm and, while they don't use the chapel, fire code rules say there aren't enough exits to accommodate both (or something like that).

Anyway, it's a beautiful little space... Here are some pictures I took:

Stained glass window, Colby Chapel.

M Downer, 2011

 Inscription on Pulpit, Colby Chapel.

M Downer, 2011

 Gabled roof, Colby Chapel.

M Downer, 2011

 Song of Songs, Colby Chapel.

M Downer, 2011

 Bible, Colby Chapel.

M Downer, 2011

 Altar, Colby Chapel.

M Downer, 2011

 Quiet, Please, Colby Chapel.

M Downer, 2011

Communion, Colby Chapel.

M Downer, 2011

Cross, Colby Chapel.

M Downer, 2011

Prayer isn't a sweet, nice, safe, naive little activity to do in your flowery hat. It is a crash helmet action for people who flip kayaks into raging spring rivers.

 - Martha Grace Reese

An Attitude of Gratitude

One of the things I'm doing as part of my spiritual practices class is trying to cultivate an attitude of gratitude... you know, for class and for life in general. Well, I just wanted to share something...

Yesterday a woman came into Starbucks and ordered a Venti Soy Latte. I was making her drink and talking to her at the espresso bar. She told me it was her birthday and that she didn't have anyone to celebrate it with so what she was doing was treating herself to a venti instead of a tall. That didn't sound like a great birthday so I asked if I could sing to her. She said she'd enjoy that very much. So I sang Maureen happy birthday. She thanked me and told me it made her day and she was glad she stopped in. I thanked her for letting me be a part of her birthday. When I was walking home, I thought it over - she let me into her vulnerability, her loneliness, she let me take residence there for a brief time.

I am grateful to be invited into a few moments of Maureen's life and that I was gifted with the honor of being a bright spot in her day.

Reflections on 9/11 Remembrances

Hi all, I wanted to use today's entry to reflect on yesterday. I am sure we've all heard our share of remembrances, but indulge me; let me tell you one more story:

On Sunday, the ten year anniversary on 9/11, I went to the 9 AM service at Old South church. I sat in the Gordon Chapel, contemplating if I'd actually be coming back (because I had not actually been greeted by anyone in the 15 minutes I was there prior to the beginning of the service). When the service started, I felt myself falling back into the church routine. I was also amazed by the amount of people who came to the "smaller" early morning service, because it was easily 75 people. I figured, rightly so, that the church would do some sort of remembrance of what happened on the eleventh of September, ten years ago.

At a point in the service, Rev. Caldwell asked us to turn to our neighbor and tell our story of 9/11. My neighbor was a woman visiting Old South for the first time, an artist, whose name I have unfortunately let slip from my mind. I shared my story of being in freshman history in room 210, Mrs. Gallagher opened the door because the small, quiet librarian was running through the halls saying "Turn on the TV! The twin towers have been hit! We're under attacke!" and I remember watching CNN with my history class, one girl whose uncle worked in the towers. I remember hearing a plane had targeted the pentagon and crashed. I remember the TV saying it was the end times. I remember lots of fear from all sides.

My neighbor said her husband was supposed to be flying into New York that morning but, for whatever reason, he didn't go. She said that she felt so sad her young children, and my generation, would have to grow up in the aftermath of this tragedy. Together, we let silent tears fall as we mourned all that was lost that day.

Then, Rev. Caldwell asked us to tell another story - what are we doing to make sure this doesn't happen again? In different ways, we both answered that we would love on the world, her with her ministry through art, and I with my ministry through the church. We both believe that peace is attainable and we are both putting parts of ourselves out into the world to try and make it a reality.

We took communion and she ducked out before the service was finished, but she's somewhere in Boston, painting pictures of hope, putting her love out there for the world to see, doing what she can to cultivate peace.

Art Night #1

Hi all! Just a quick check-in to say "orientation is going awesome!!" I went to art night last night - and a second one this night - at the studio in the meetinghouse and this is what I made:

"Communion" Madelyn Downer, 2011

Well, I don't think of myself as much of an artist - my brother got all that talent - but the artist in residence told me I have to "claim [my] art" so that's what I'm doing!

On the agenda for tomorrow: more orientation!

Cup of Coffee = Ministry

I've been applying to a lot of coffee houses here and, unlike most people applying to Dunkin Donuts/Starbucks/etc., it's not just because I need a job. Yes, it is partially because I need a job, but I'm applying at coffeehouses because I believe that 

serving coffee is a ministry.

A cup of coffee can get you through a long Monday afternoon at work. I've seen it brighten the faces of homeless people and I've seen it be a comforter to many, many college students during finals time - myself included.


It's an experience, one that starts with a genuine and friendly, "Hi, how're you doing? What can I get for you?" If a barista/server/whatever you want to call it, treats you like you're just one customer closer to quitting time, well, that's never made me feel very good. The servers (or cashiers at stores, like the one older woman at Target in North Haven) who recognize that you, the customer, are, in fact, a person and who treat you as such, those are the ones who make a mundane thing, like grabbing coffee, an actual positive experience in your life...


And, because ministry is my vocation, I want to work at a coffee shop. Whether it's something like Dunkin' or Branford's Common Grounds, people need coffee, and people need a connection, not just an empty "have a nice day" with a cup of burnt coffee.

From WeHeartIt

How To Tuesdays: Grocery Shopping in Grad School

Well, we all need to eat, even us grad students. Today, I went grocery shopping. The snack foods I brought from home just would not cut it for meals the week before the cafe opens. I realized this last night when I was about to go sans dinner for the second night in a row (in all fairness, I just forgot to eat the first night - I was so enthralled in getting my room in a live-able state). I was wondering whether I wanted peanut butter crackers or Ramen noodles (without the seasoning - too much sodium!) and I was really lamenting the fact that I'd forgotten about bread, tuna, and beans when buying food back home. 

Turns out, when you need something, all you have to do is ask! Who knew?

So, I was talking to my new friend about the lack of protein filled, life sustaining foods in my room and she offered to drive me down to the store! She's so sweet! I thought she'd also be getting something, but she really wasn't there for any other reason except to drive me. And, on top of that, she gave me a chocolate cheesecake bite that she'd bought at the grocery store! She drives me somewhere and gives me chocolate? I think that's grounds for Sainthood right there.

My mantra on this shopping trip: Protein. Protein. Protein. 

(My friend, Greg, would be proud.)

Okay, you can see this isn't really a how-to guide, but let me tell what I did learn from my first real grocery shopping experience all on my very own:

1. The push cart is definitely preferable over the basket. Especially when you plan on getting glass bottles of juice and cans of beans.

2. Fruit is really expensive. I'm hoping a certain mother will see this and send me a few packages of diced peaches...

3. Canned vegetables don't go bad (well, at least not in the next year or two)... Plus, if I get fresh vegetables, I'm going to bike to the farmer's market and get them there.

4. Just because the brand you love is on sale does not mean it's going to be cheaper than the store brand. I got the store brand because I am a college student who still has not found a job (what... three days later?).

5. Planning is important. I saw a lot of stuff I'd love to have but didn't need (Rose tea for $8.99/15 bags), it was more important to buy protein and filling foods... hence the beans, burritos, canned veggies, and mac and cheese... I did splurge on the Sweet Leaf teas because they're on sale for $1 each and... I love them.

I'm going to do some more job hunting in the morning (who knows - maybe the Newton music shop will put up a "help wanted" sign while I'm asleep) and then go to Faneuil Hall, maybe some other places...

My Cup Overflows!

It sure does! 

Photo: WeHeartIt

Reflections on Maddiepalooza

I've had a few days to reflect on Maddiepalooza and I am still in awe of everyone who worked so hard to pull it together and everyone who came out to support me as I prepare for this next part of my journey.

This fundraiser was pulled together in just three short weeks. With the persistence of my mother, two local newspapers got involved to do stories on it. My friend, Lisa, recruited bands to play. They both found people to donate food, drinks, decorations, and to help set up and clean up.

People donated items for a raffle and for an auction - and they weren't small prizes either. My friend and mentor, Vance, donated a week at his time share. The auction raised $600 - amazing, I think, because no one knew beforehand that this auction was taking place. I think that's amazing, that people were willing to put forth that much money on the spot... because they wanted to support me! :)

And the people who were there - there were so many surprises! My very first pastor, Michael, and his wife came up from New Jersey. It was so good seeing him after ten years! My mentor and former interim pastor, Matt, came by with his wife, Allison. Matt joined Trees of the Field to sing a few songs. And of course, Vance and my current pastor, Deborah, were there. It was so great to have so many people I admire there to support me.

My family, friends, and church family were all represented too! Most of the girls from my youth choir came with their families, the members of youth group who hadn't already left for school were there as well. Many other church families, family friends, and some of my friends from work came as well.

I am just blown away by how much love and support everyone has shown me. I talked a little bit about how everyone giving just a little bit ends up being a whole lot, and that with that, I can go on to show that same kind of overflowing love to others. I just can't get over it, this overflowing love of God that I get to experience all the time.

Thank you to everyone who came out, who supports/prays/thinks of me as I continue on this path that God has called me to. I love you all!

Taste and See!

I've been baking pretty much non-stop. I want to make at least 100 cupcakes, some brownies, and other desserts for my palooza tomorrow. I'm not normally a baker, or a cook, in any capacity... but I can find my way around a kitchen when I need to.

I decided that I wanted to dye the cupcakes to match my school's colors - navy blue and purple. So I dyed the yellow cake batter blue and purple and mixed them together in the cupcake tins like a marble cake. And... ta da?

Spot on if you're colorblind.

Okay, well, that didn't work. What happened? How did the blue and purple cupcakes turn into toxic pond green and earthworm brown?

I don't have any scientific-sounding reasons, but the best I can guess is that - like paint or nail polish - the batter looks darker than it will when it "dries" (in this case, bakes).

And this got me thinking... Things look different after they've had a chance to dry; after we've had a chance to work through our problems, taken some time to step back and look at the whole wall instead of inside a paint can - or, perhaps, a tray of cupcakes instead of a thick bowl of batter. It's almost like Seurat's paintings... If you look up close at A Sunday Afternoon on the Island of La Grand Jatte, all you see is flecks of color... You have to step back and take it in. When it's concentrated, like when cake batter or paint is concentrated, it's not the same.

Life is the same way. When we're dealing with something, whether it's money problems, bumps in a relationship, health scares, or just general stress, we have to step back, give it a little bit of time, and see it more clearly. Maybe it looks a little murky now, but if we give it time to process, we'll see a clearer picture, a lighter shade of paint, a green and brown cupcake. We'll be able to see things more clearly, for what they are. We know that God will help us through anything, but sometimes what we need most is to get out of that close up view and let God handle it.

Maybe after that, we'll be able to see that, yes, things will all work out:

Blue and purple cupcakes!

Taste and see that the Lord is good!

from Psalm 34:8

"Keep On... Keepin' On"

Today's UCC Stillspeaking Daily Devtional was called "Keep On... Keepin' On" and it was written by Ron Buford.

The third point Buford gives really struck a chord with me:

Third, show that you believe by moving forward 

before there is tangible or visible reason to do so—

even while weeping, sow seeds for the future you envision, 

though the path may be uncertain 

and you may just not feel like it . . .  yet.

Why? Because I've done this so many times. I've felt that sort of Why is this happening? feeling... and I just keep moving forward, keep hoping... I could recognize myself in this devotional... And that fact that this devotional was written and put out there says, 'Hey, guess what - when you feel like you're not sure what's going to happen, or you're overwhelmed, or you're just hoping for a light, something, anything... You're not alone in that. There's nothing wrong with it. Just keep moving forward, keep hoping; don't get stuck.'

Have you felt like this? What ways has God brought you through it in the past?

I feel a tinge of this now, what with relocating and worrying about how I'm going to get around (without getting lost) and finding a job near school and making new friends (and trying to stay in touch with the old)... But I've got hope. And I know that God has brought me through harder, scarier times than this. So I know it's going to be all right.

Morning Inspiration: Some Love to Start the Day Off Right

And wouldn't you know...

Photos: WeHeartIt

There is a place for you, here.

I've been asked, a lot, 'what would you say to a young person who maybe isn't sure about coming to church?' And I've thought about it, and what I'd say, really to anyone wondering about whether they could be part of a church, is this:

"There is a place for you, here."

There is a place for you, here, in the church. Whether you've been a part of a church your entire life, whether you went to church when you were little and now feel a calling back after a long time away, or if you've never been to church at all. There is is a place for you in the church. 

There is a place for you, here, in the life of the church. You're never too young to become part of the missions committee and help those who are on the fringes of our society. It doesn't matter if you haven't been to church that much, you can learn to minister to those in your congregation through being a deacon and helping make decisions about the spiritual life and worship in the church. You can organize fundraisers, you can start small groups, you can do big things - or small. You can join small groups, you can attend church dinners, or you can simply be a presence in the church at worship service.

It doesn't matter if you sit in the front or the back of the sanctuary, if you come in wearing your best suit or jeans and a t-shirt (God isn't calling your clothing to worship, God is calling you!), it doesn't matter if you are tattooed and pierced or if there's not a drop of ink in your skin, if you are single or married, an accountant or an artist, it doesn't matter if you've got money or if you're just barely squeaking by each week, or if you haven't paid your credit card in three months (you are not just another check in the offering plate, you are part of a loving and caring church community). What you look like, what you do, your past... it doesn't matter; what matters is that you are a beloved child of God, that you feel the Spirit working in amazing and miraculous ways... or maybe that you think you may have felt the Spirit, but you're not quite sure how this all works out for you, yes, Thomas, there is a place for you, too! There is room for everyone in the house of the Lord.

I would say: If you feel in your heart that God and Jesus are a part of your life, if you feel called to love others as a testament to the love that has been poured out on us, then there is a place for you, here, in the church - no matter what.

Yup, we've got room for you! (Photo: WeHeartIt)

I am blessed because, after I had walked away from the church after confirmation in ninth grade, when I later felt that God was calling me back to faith (after my first year at college), my church family said, 

We don't care where you've wandered, 

what matters is, you're here now, 

and you are ready to serve God,

to love like Jesus, 

and to revel in the Spirit of the Lord. 

They showed me, through their endless love and support, the unconditional and unrelenting love of God.

When I was a nineteen year old girl wanting to get back into church and feeling called to serve through youth ministry, they entrusted me with their freshman class of confirmands and let me start a high school youth ministry. They let me take the kids up to Boston for a weekend retreat in the city, they let me build a makeshift house out of boxes and spend the night with the kids outside (in October, in the rain). I was given the opportunity to organize worship services and small groups and to co-chair the biggest fundraiser in my church. I'm only 24, but in the past 5 years, my church has made a place for me, I've done things I never thought I'd actually be able to pull off - like organizing a music festival with seven bands from around the country, and joining with another area church to take kids on a mission trip to New Orleans to work on houses that had been damaged by Katrina. 

There was a place for me; there is a place for you.

Balance is Important in Yoga (and in Life)

Well, today I officially gave my two week resignation saying 'Thanks but now I'm going to school so I can work for Jesus,' or, well, that's a paraphase, I guess. Though I've seen it coming for a long time, it was still a little nerve-wracking. Now I really don't have a job after these next two weeks, now I really am moving in only 21 days, I'm going to need to find a job and make new friends (and leave the old), and get back into the school work mindset (after a nice, long summer off...), oh, and perhaps the hardest part of it all, I'm going to have to wake up at the crack of dawn for my 8 AM classes.

We've all been anxious about things before, and we've all made it through just fine... And yet, these things keep weighing on me. I have faith that once I get up there and get settled (and find a job), this will all quiet down... But today it was such a racket inside my head that I couldn't even focus at yoga class.

I was the wobbliest and most tense person in that room... I think my yoga teacher could tell. I did, after all, have to modify every single pose. And it took me a long time to get into meditation...

I usually leave yoga feeling awesome, balanced, grounded... kind of like I've just been praying with my entire body... Today I felt... kind of let down...

This was me today. From WeHeartIt

Well, it's the truth - every day is not going to be absolutely on-top-of-the-world amazing, and we're not going to leave every yoga class (or whatever activity we may do to relax) completely centered, but the one thing I know about bad days is that God wants us even then... Even when we mess everything up and spill milk on ourselves walking into work and swear at the woman who pulled out in front of us even though she had plenty of time and we were just being a teensy bit touchy...

Yes, even when we're down, God wants us. God wants to hold us close and help us back up, help us dust the dirt off our knees so we can greet another day...

And you know what, after talking it out and reminding myself of this, I'm honestly feeling a lot better about this all. How great is our God? :)