2011 Archives

     First of all, let me state this clearly up front: I promise not use the newsletter article as a forum for continually dishing on how beautiful, smart, talented, and wonderful my new son is. (Did I mention that he’s perfect?) Not only will you tire of hearing about him eventually, I assume, but also observation has taught me that talking about your PK (preacher’s kid) in sermons and newsletters as a pastor tends to make the kid even more messed up than he would be naturally. So I promise to show restraint. However, since this is the first article I’m writing since returning from maternity leave, I thought I might share some of the most important lessons that the first couple of months of parenthood have taught me. Nothing in all of my life has affected my faith more than becoming a parent, and I am still processing what that looks like. I’m a work in progress, but here is what I’ve gleaned so far:

     1) I am not, nor will I ever be, Superwoman. And more importantly, God doesn’t need me to be Superwoman. Whenever I am tempted to believe that the sky might fall if I wasn’t holding it up, I need only remind myself that we already have a Savior, and he is more perfect in every way than anything I could ever be myself. The challenge is to recognize that control rests squarely in his hands, and to trust that he will be gentle and merciful to us in our uncertain state of chaos even when we make mistakes and stumble. We serve the One who picks up the downtrodden and offers us hope once again. Let’s hand the reins of control back to where they belong.

          Experience is teaching me that there is much joy to be had in learning to accept the unpredictable nature of life and be grateful for all that is, even when it gets your hands a bit dirty in the process.

     3) The people around you are generous, kind, loving individuals, and it is OK to accept help. This has probably been one of the hardest lessons for me to learn, and my suspicion is that many of you would struggle with it as well. In reality, for as much as we like to think that we are independent people, God created us to be in community with one another. From the very beginning we were designed to be in a give-and-take relationship with the people around us, and sometimes, that means allowing ourselves to receive as well as give. Kindness is one of those wonderful fruits of the Spirit that grows exponentially the more it is released. Let yourself be loved today.

     See? I told you I could get through the article without bragging too much about my baby. (Did I mention how handsome he is?) Thank you all again for all of your wonderful generosity and love to us during this amazing time in our lives.

July 2011

     In May, my grandfather celebrated his 90^th birthday, and Andy, Benjamin, and I made the long trip out to Sublette in southwest Kansas to celebrate with him.  At his reception, he sat in his element: perennially half-empty cup of coffee in his hand, John Deere baseball cap on his head, surrounded by similarly clad farming buddies, all of them spewing forth a constant string of mild expletives as they ruminated on the endlessly uncooperative weather.  A truly classic Kansas farmer birthday party.  On my grandfather’s cake, my aunts had taken an old photo of him when he was in the service during World War II and had it made into edible icing.  And as my grandpa sat beaming with pride as he held my son and tried to keep him from ripping out his oxygen tubes, I stood back and pondered the differences in the world my grandfather has seen from the time of that picture until now.

     When my grandfather entered the service, you communicated with people by sending written letters through the mail and waiting a couple of weeks to hear back a response.  People who wanted to work could easily find jobs and make a decent living by coming home at the end of the day sweaty, exhausted, and fulfilled.  Air conditioning was provided by open windows and iced tea shared with neighbors on the porch.  It was also a world in which people of color and women were denied full rights, where lifespans were decades shorter because people literally had to work to death, and where educational opportunities were extremely limited if you wanted to learn any other trade besides what your family had always done.  It occurred to me that life back then was extremely different, but not necessarily better or worse.

     Benjamin was now sitting on his great-grandpa’s lap flirting with the great-granddaughter of one of my grandpa’s neighbors.  Grandpa was giving him gruff dating advice like, “You better learn how to treat that little lady right.”  I attempted to hide my laughter and went back to my thoughts as I reflected on the changes the church has seen in my grandfather’s lifetime.  When he was young, the church was filled with people, young families just getting started in life who attended church together on Sundays and sent all their kids to youth group while they gathered for potluck meals.  They would never have dreamed of a church that had its own Twitter account or which played music from an iPod.  But the church of my grandfather’s day also would never have allowed me, a young female, to be its pastor.  The church was very different, but not necessarily better or worse.

     In every generation, the church has been what it needed to be, at least to some extent, to reflect the needs and values of the people who attended there.  When my grandfather was young, the church was a place for families to gather, worship, and socialize, and which functioned in the role that most people nowadays would attend a coffee shop or bar to fulfill (minus the alcohol – that was for Saturday night, not Sunday morning).  The church Benjamin will be a part of as he grows up looks different from that.  It’s full of technology, people who connect online as often as they do in person, and people who want to socialize by engaging in mission work and outreach together.  It’s different, but not necessarily better or worse.  It is simply a reflection of a changing world, in which the church reflects changing values.  Many people mourn the loss of what the church was in my grandfather’s day, but recognize that that church, as it existed then, would never reach people of Benjamin’s day.  It has to reflect the changes in society.  It has to be what Christ is calling it to be today, to reach people with the message of Jesus in the way that touches them now.  It has to be different, but not necessarily better or worse.

     You and I are caught in the midst of a massive shift in society and in the church.  We can’t change the fact that the world is changing all around us, but we can prayerfully attempt to be faithful to God’s call on our lives as individuals and as a church within those changes.  We can, with God’s leading, shape the church that our children and grandchildren will inherit, so that when they look back it, they might reflect that our world was different but that we were faithful enough to pass that church down to them in a way that they could be reached.  I invite you to be a part of that process of handing down the church to future generations.  Their chance to be disciples of Jesus Christ depends in part on your willingness to be a part of that journey.  Will you accept where it leads you today?

     Don’t worry about it.  They’re just numbers on a scale.  That’s what I tried to tell myself anyway.  But still I cringed when I glanced down at the merciless little LCD display in my bathroom sporting a number far larger than I would like.  Ever since the baby was born I’ve been engaged in an all-out war on the baby fat.  It’s a battle I’m all too familiar with.

     Weight has been an issue I have fought my entire life.  When I was in middle school I had a BMI that put me in the “grossly obese” category.  By college, I had fallen into depression which I dealt with by not eating for days on end, losing weight and garnering praise from acquaintances that I “looked great,” even though it was killing me.  Thankfully with the help of friends and an awesome support network, I managed to recover and move on to healthier options.  While I was in seminary, several of my classmates and I committed to joining Weight Watchers, and I walked and portion-controlled my way down to a healthy weight, which I maintained for several years until the baby came along.

     Which leads me back to my bathroom scale, and the misery of starting the process all over again.  I’m committed to taking the hard middle path of losing weight the healthy way, instead of staying at an unhealthily high weight or falling back into my eating disorder patterns to get back down.  Unfortunately that leaves me with the stark reality that my only option here is hard work and commitment.  Some weeks it pays off (“Two pounds gone!  Take THAT, baby fat!”), and some weeks I have to cut myself some slack and promise to do better next time (“Gained a half pound!  Shouldn’t have skipped my workout three days this week.”).  Sometimes I am proud of myself, sometimes I scold myself.

     In a lot of ways, weight loss is strikingly similar to the Christian journey.  If you’ve ever struggled to lose weight, you know that often the best you can hope for is to go two steps forward and one step back, instead of one step forward and three steps back.  It’s a seemingly never-ending journey which can leave you exhilarated, frustrated, depressed, and encouraged.  Discipleship is no different.  Sometimes you fly high on the wings of a close and happy relationship with God, and sometimes you wonder whether anyone up there is even listening.  It’s a journey that is not for the weak-willed, but which holds promises and treasures unimaginable to those who never begin it.

     In one very important way, however, those two journeys are very different.  With weight loss, you can find a workout buddy, join an accountability group, and ask your family members to help you eat healthy, but ultimately it is still your own journey to walk.  At the end of the day, I am the one who is responsible for what I put in my mouth and whether I make time for exercise.  In the Christian journey, the weight of that responsibility is not solely on my shoulders.  The journey of faith is a joint endeavor, a communal time, a journey for which there is always a constant companion.  Whether things are going well or poorly, we always have our Savior alongside.  What a friend we have in Jesus, we sing, and those words are not just empty lyrics.  What a friend, indeed.  The friend who never forgets our lunch date, who is always willing to listen when we need him, who seeks us out when we turn our backs.  We are never alone in our journey of Christian discipleship.

     And at the end of the day, that thought ought to bring us great comfort.  We are always forgiven, no matter whether we have had a good day of discipleship or bad, and Christ is always there to welcome us back with open arms.  The journey continues, and our Companion waits for us.  So go today knowing that whatever you are facing right now, Christ is with you and you are not alone.  And have a snack while you’re at it – studies show small meals throughout the day promote healthy weight. :)

• Feed approximately 5,000 meals to the residents of McLouth and surrounding rural areas through Souper Bowl receipts and food pantry donations
• Give $500 for cancer research through Breast Cancer Awareness and Relay for Life
• Send almost $3,000 to feed and clothe the victims of the Haiti earthquake (which saved an estimated 150 lives)
• Send $450 to Nothing But Nets, saving 45 lives for people who live under the threat of malaria
• Provide school supplies and in some cases backpacks to 11 children in the McLouth community, and send an extra $320 to the Bulldog Christmas Store in support of the reading program

• Help send two children to the life-changing ministries of Camp Chippewa
• Provide meals, gas to get to work, and in some cases small utility assistance to dozens of residents in the community through support for the McLouth Ministerial Alliance, resulting in at least two people who say they found Christ as a direct result of receiving grace through knowing the people who gave to the fund were praying for them
• Install and fully pay for a new sound and video system in the sanctuary, which has allowed at least five different people to finally be able to hear the service through the hearing assistance devices and better speakers, meaning that for the first time in years, many of them could fully enjoy worship
• Help raise our weekly worship attendance by 3% and participation in small groups by 35% over their 2009 levels
• Help bring to Christ at least six people who professed their faith for the first time
• Support dozens of other projects like the Faculty Appreciation Breakfast, the Student Assessment Breakfasts, fundraisers for children and families in our community who are in need, and many other area, district, and conference projects

     SCREEEEECH!  I grabbed my coffee and hung on for dear life as Andy slammed on the brakes and everything in the car flew forward and crashed into the back our seats.  I glanced back to make sure the baby was still safely strapped in his seat and discovered he had, remarkably, slept through the whole thing.  “What was that for?!”  Andy yelled at the unseen driver who had suddenly stopped in front of us on the highway in Dallas.  Everywhere you looked in every direction there was gridlock.  I mentally calculated the probably of hitting absolutely deadlocked traffic on what should have been a mostly deserted interstate at an early hour on a Saturday morning and came to the conclusion that Dallas was just cursed in the traffic department.  I wondered whether people in Dallas think about how much of their lives is spent sitting in traffic instead of engaged in happier pursuits.  It certainly was taking up far more of our vacation than we had intended.

     Traffic is probably one of the most annoying of life’s small inconveniences.  In the broad scheme of things, those of us who live in McLouth really don’t experience it all that often unless you commute to the city.  And even then, I guarantee you it’s not as bad as Dallas.  But yet it manages to annoy and frustrate us regularly.  (Remember the scene in Office Space where the guy is sitting in his car uncontrollably screaming because of the traffic?  That was us in Dallas.)  It’s not too terribly awful, and yet it raises our blood pressure and leads us to frustration nonetheless.  A recently released comprehensive study of happiness in several countries concluded, among other things, that cutting one’s commute time in half and avoiding traffic was the happiness equivalent of adding $40,000 to your salary for an average earner.  $40,000!  Just from avoiding the traffic!  That’s a lot of unhappiness spent staring at other people’s taillights.

     I pondered all of this while we waited on the BMW in front of us to realize the line of cars had started moving again.  I thought about how much time and energy and thought process I waste letting little things like traffic annoy me.  I, who live in a country where I am blessed with transportation and food, with bottled water to drink while I wait and a cooler of fruit to snack on.  I, who have access to clean air despite the traffic and a cell phone to figure out directions, am worried about the extra 15 minutes of my life I spent waiting on the traffic.  If I had been born in other circumstances, I might have been using those 15 minutes to be forced into human trafficking or bent over in the hot sun working in the fields because I lacked the opportunity to do anything else.  But instead of appreciating these things, I mentally shot daggers at the person who designed left lane exits and made it hard to get across the interstate.  I hung my head a little when I realized this.

     And then, while I was thinking about all these things, I happened to glance at the woman driving the car next to ours.  When you’re sitting still in traffic you can get a pretty good look at the people around you.  She wasn’t very remarkable looking.  For all I know she could have been on her way to run errands at the grocery store.  But instead of being mad at this gridlock that was driving us crazy, she appeared to be beatifically enjoying the beautiful sunrise.  She glanced back down from her notice of the sun and smiled at me when she caught my eye, mouthing the words, “Good morning.”  I smiled back.  Huh, I thought, if we hadn’t been sitting here in traffic, I wouldn’t have had the chance to have my day made brighter by this random Texan stranger.  Just maybe, I wondered to myself, I ought to take the time to turn all of these little moments of annoyance into a chance to be the presence of Christ for someone else.  Jesus did that, remember?  Something tells me he would have been smiling at the people stuck in traffic with him, just to remind them that they are loved and valued.  So today, that’s the kind of driver I want to be – the kind of person who makes you glad you were going slowly enough to see me smile at you with Christ’s love.  How about you?

Pastor Morgan

 At once the angel was joined by a huge angelic choir singing God's praises: 

Glory to God in the heavenly heights, 

Peace to all men and women 

on earth who please him.