In Gennesaret

November 1 is All Saints Day. Soooo, raise your hand if you were aware of this. Okay, thank you – now keep your hand up if this fact will be affecting your day in any noticeable way. Mm-hmm. Growing up Baptist, All Saints Day meant nothing to me. It was just an ancient historical something that gave us a reason for costumes and candy on October 31 st . But I have since learned that it’s a day when we (that is, we Christians) are supposed to remember and honor the saints that “went before us”. And that's a lovely idea. So I felt an urge in church, when All Saints Day was mentioned, to schedule a pause in my day to remember believers who went before me . . . in particular, people at University Baptist Church in Wichita, the church I grew up in. Like Dorothy Melugin. From the earliest age I can remember, Mrs. Melugin was the kitchen lady – I think her official role was Chair of the Hospitality Committee (because we were Baptists and had to committee everything to death). She w...

( God, beaming at the humans he just created.) Aw, look at them! They’re so cute with their hair and their smiles and their short attention spans and their fragile egos. I’m going to enjoy hanging out with these guys. But now I need to figure out how to make that happen. Relationship , I mean. You gotta know someone to have a relationship with them, right? I know them , of course – inside and out. But I have to figure out how they can know me . . . how they can even understand who I am. I mean, they can’t really comprehend me in my entirety, bless their limited little hearts. But I can give them glimpses of me, here and there. Enough to make them want more and seek me out. ‘Cause I want them to seek me out. So let’s see . . . I’ll start with   . . . a Parent. Yes! Perfect. Every human will have a Parent. A stronger, bigger fellow human who protects them and nurtures them . . . who belongs to them no matter what . . . who adores them even on the days when they seem to be g...

A few weeks ago, someone on Facebook mentioned Rich Mullins. Rich Mullins,  people!   I used to have a “best of” cassette with a bunch of his songs. (Actually, I may still have it somewhere – I just don’t have anything to play a cassette tape on anymore.) But that random mention on FB sent me on a Rich Mullins jag. The man had some really powerful music. “Calling Out Your Name” absolutely sends me soaring in worship. “We Are Not as Strong as We Think We Are” moves me deeply. And I spent a couple days driving around with hands raised in praise (well, one hand up, one still on the wheel) while listening to “If I Stand”. Googling the songs again sent me also to articles talking about Mullins himself, someone I didn’t really know much about. I knew he died relatively young in a car crash (in 1997 at the age of 41). I also learned that he went to college at Friends University in Wichita, my hometown – which explained his reference to “the Keeper of the Plains” which I always wond...

Not many people know that I have a master’s degree in Guidance and Counseling. Mainly because I’ve never used it, at least not professionally. The only real “counseling” I’ve done outside of friends and family was the twelve-week internship at a middle school which I had to do to close out the program and get my degree. That experience proved to me that I had no business being a school counselor, bless my heart. My mentor was a wonderful African-American woman whom I admired and enjoyed; I could have spent hours soaking in her wisdom and never have gotten saturated. A few weeks into the internship, she organized a weekly meeting with a group of boys who were dealing with anger issues, a group that we were supposed to co-lead. She gradually let me take over more of the leadership of the group as time went on – which, of course, was exactly what was needed for my education but unfortunately not at all what was needed for these poor boys’ edification. Do you remember what I said a w...

 I’ve been legally divorced for just over a year. The actual process of divorce took almost a year as well, and the decision to divorce was weighing on me for another year before that. Three years, friends. Three years with about a million and a half decisions I had to make. Some of those decisions were immensely consequential (Is it time to file – am I sure I’m done?). Some were relatively trivial but still exhausting (Which dishes do I keep? Curtains in the bedroom or just blinds? Buy new socks or sew up the holes in the ones I have?). But the accumulation of choice after choice after stinkin’ choice made every choice on the table terribly difficult. By the end of 2020, I was so done. I was ready to fake insanity and let the state take care of me. Of course, all these decisions wouldn’t have been nearly as hard if I wasn’t so concerned with making the right decisions. Because I believed that there was always a right choice and a wrong choice – that God had one direction he w...

On a recent date night, my guy and I shared the stories of losing our parents. (Yes, I know – not exactly a cheery topic for courtship repartee. That’s one of the things about dating at this age. You’ve got several decades of life experiences to catch each other up on: the good, the sad, the hilarious, the embarrassing . . .) So yeah, we talked about people dying. And then the next morning, I woke up to one of my favorite weekly emails in my inbox – “The Word Before Work” by Jordan Raynor. I love this guy. He writes about having a spiritual perspective on our work, and this particular email was talking about . . . well, about dying. In short, sin has ensured that nobody will ever finish the work they envision completing in their lifetime. . . We will all die with unfinished symphonies. Our to-do lists will never be completed. There will always be a gap between what we can imagine accomplishing in this life and what we can actually get done. Unfinished symphonies . . . what a love...

I spent five Thursday nights this summer in an adult improvisation class at Crystal Sea Drama Company. Thank you, Mike Dannelly – it was a joy. I love watching improv, but God did NOT grace me with the gift of spontaneity. As fun as it looked, I was afraid I would suck at it. But being a drama teacher, it behooves me to have some basic knowledge of the art. So, I signed up for the class. And I learned so stinkin’ much. One of the basic concepts behind improvisation is the “Yes . . . And”. When someone on your team takes a story in one direction, you respond with “Yes,” and then continue in that direction with “And”. Actor A : Look! There’s a spaceship landing on our front lawn! Actor B : Yes . . . and I bet they’re bringing Uncle Larry back! Oh, friends . . . this is a concept we need to apply to life. To ALL the things. YES! – Folks, we need to look for what we can say yes to. Say yes whenever possible. This is true in parenting: “Yes, you can pick what you wear today – w...