Roses and all...

David Hume once wrote, "Beauty in things exist merely in the mind which contemplates them."

Often times when I am stressed or in a particularly contemplative mood, I go in search of beauty. Some of the beauty I find, will only be beautiful to me, because I agree with Hume's statement, beauty exists in the mind that is contemplating its beauty. Art is a prime example, what is beautiful to one, will not be to another. But I am not here to really discuss if Hume was correct in his statement, I am simply here to share the beauty that I found.

Yesterday, I found myself in Sewanee, and if you have never been there, please go. The natural beauty that exists within this small town is beyond words.

Anyhow, I found myself in one of those particularly contemplative moods, and went to one of my favorite places, sitting at the foot of a cross. My most deep thinking is found while sitting at the foot of a cross, sometimes metaphorically but on this occasion, physically.

Hidden down a road made of small hills is tucked away a memorial cross that opens up to the hillside below. This memorial cross is a memorial to those who have served in several different wars. I have been to this cross several times, and have taken photos at different times of day and at different angles. But last night, as I approached the cross, the sun was mostly gone, and the cross was beautifully lit up. As I approached the cross with my camera, I saw two roses and a jar sitting on the top step. As I got closer to photograph the two roses, I saw that they had to have been sitting there a while, because they were dried out.  I took several photos, spent some time just sitting and thinking, got in my car and left. 

As I drove down the interstate heading back home, those roses just stuck in my mind. I began to think of what they meant or who left them. I pictured someone leaving those roses as a memorial for someone that they lost in one of the wars. I pictured a person who had no where else to turn but to that cross, to that sacred space, and they left the roses as a sign of giving something to God. I pictured a beautiful proposal that took place at the overlook, and they left two roses as a sign of their love for not only each other, but for what that place represented.

The story could be absolutely anything. 

 I don't know why those two roses were left there, but as I thought about it, I wondered why I found solace in that place. Its the presence of God in such a place. Its the wind in my hair as I sit and see the creativity of God in the hills, the woods, the sky, and all of the surroundings of that cross. 

To see those two roses sitting at the foot of the cross, combined with all of the ways that I typically experience God in that place, reminded me of perspective. Sometimes I see the world through such small glasses, it narrows my view to only the immediate, and it hinders me from seeing what is to come or what could come. And it may be because I have experienced those short sighted glasses recently that this came to mind, but as I looked at the cross and the roses that sat beneath it, my thought was, "no one could have known what that cross would mean while Jesus hung on it. No one saw the bigger picture. But He did."

Why is it so easy to simply look as far as you can see, and because you can't see any further, stop looking? 

Choose to see the beauty. Choose to see the potential in the world around you. Choose to see the cross as Christ saw it, not as a means to an end, but to a whole new beginning.

Why is choosing this route so scary? My guess is because there is no guarantee in it. It is literally walking by faith. It is hard. 

I want to choose it. I have chosen it time and again. I want to see the roses, and remember the perspective that those roses brought. I pray that the roses continue to appear, because the reality is I need to be reminded to see the potential.

Next?

The last few days have been insane. Insane not because I have had a lot going on, but insane because of one question. The question of, "what is your next step?" Typically when people ask me that question, I automatically respond with "when the time comes, I will go where I am sent." But that person responded with you can have a plan, and talk about next steps. While I knew this to be the case, to an extent. That statement completely threw me for a loop.

It threw me so much, that it made me question everything, including the am I good enough? Can I really do this? God, are you really calling me to this? Can I really be a pastor? I am so scared, what if this goes all wrong and God really isn't calling me here?

Yesterday, I felt deflated and struggled the whole day with that question. I spoke to a dear friend, and she promised to pray as I go through this process of discernment. She gave me some words of encouragement that brought peace though. I heard one of her sermons recently, and she said something like "when you are called, God will give you the grace and ability to do it." And when I said that to her, she reminded me that sometimes you go into something and those things are given to you as you live into that call. That statement again rocked me.

I spent the evening in a space of just trying to listen through whatever I was doing. I watched a new movie, and it put me in tears. It was like I just needed to cry, and that movie started a really good cry. When I thought I was finished crying, I turned on some music. All Sons and Daughters', "Longing", came on and it just put me back into tears.

"Love is and always was
The longing place inside my heart
To know You
And be known by you"

And then reading words from the inspirational and amazing person, Mother Teresa, that spoke about Christ being in every person you meet. I went to bed thinking about what it all meant. I didn't know why it sent me into tears, I just knew that it did.

Today, there were three specific moments that showed me that I am where I am supposed to be.

1. I went to a clergy district meeting this morning and we went through the Wesley Covenant service. Wesley's covenant prayer is very dear to me, because that it was during that prayer in 2008, that I accepted the call to be a pastor. I couldn't say "I am no longer mine own, but thine..." without accepting it. So when we said it today, and I was amongst clergy who I respect and am lucky enough to call some of them friends, I again stopped, and also heard my friend Susan's voice in my head that said, "God is not a God of fear, but a God of love." Which reminded me of my own fear of not being enough. When I began to say "I am no longer my own, but yours..." I could feel God releasing so much fear and tension inside of me.

2. We had our annual SPRC meeting tonight where they decide if they want each clergy to remain at the church or if they want to request for them to move. And as I sat down, they asked me basic questions like who was I (for the new people on the committee), what did I do, etc. as I spoke, I could feel my passion for these kids. When I walked into my office afterwards, my thought was I love what I do, why am I so afraid that God isn't calling me here? Why am I not able to here the affirmation around me?

3. When I got home, I decided to go for a walk. It was a cold, beautiful night, and I wanted to experience it. As I walked to the coffee shop in the middle of town from my apartment,  I passed several restaurants and businesses, one of the those businesses was the library. As I was passing the library I noticed that there was someone sitting outside of the library just huddled up against the wall. I kept walking. I got myself a chai tea and began my walk back. As I got to the corner (where the church is), I stopped. I was thinking about that person by the library. I went back to the coffee shop and got a hot chocolate. I couldn't walk past the library with a hot drink without having one for the person sitting there. I stopped at the library, spoke to the person, gave them the hot chocolate, and left. As I walked back I stopped at the depot and just sat down. 

It was a moment. A beautiful moment. I took in the sky around me and the image in front of me as I sat there (the pictures below). And I listened to the music in my ears. Again, "Longing" came on. 

Love is and always was
The longing place inside my heart
To know You
And be known by You 

And it hit me. I am where I am supposed to be. As long as I can find myself at that longing place, the place of love and remembering the words of Mother Teresa, Christ is in each person that we meet, and as long as I can continue to live into that prayer: "I am no longer my own, but thine..." I will be fine and will be where I am called to be.

I still have those fears, I am still well aware of my downfalls, and I still feel rocked, but at this point, I will stick with my answer. I will go where I am sent, and when it's time to go, God will send me. Whether it be through me saying I am ready for what is next, or the Bishop calling me somewhere else. I will go, until then I am ok, in fact I am good.

Mother Teresa

Tonight, I began a new book, "Mother Teresa." I am struggling to get past the preface of the book. This struggle does not exist because it is a hard read, but because the preface alone is rich with the life and words of Mother Teresa.

So far there are two quotes that caught my eye:

"I believe", she once said, "in person to person contact. Every person is Christ for me and since there is only one Jesus, the person I am meeting is the one person in the world at that moment."

"No one thinks of the pen while reading a letter," she once wrote, stressing the unimportance of such considerations. "They only want to know the mind of the person who wrote the letter. That's exactly what I am in God's hand- a little pencil. God is writing his love letter to the world in this way, through works of love."

I am completely in awe of this woman. She had a vision of what the world could look like, and that God could change the world through her- the pencil. That God could use one person and change the world is an amazing thing, thanks be to God that God didn't just choose her, but so many more.

May we see Christ in every person we meet. And even if we forget, may we always keep trying to see Christ in each other. 

-Excerpts taken from "Mother Teresa: An Authorized Biography" by Kathryn Spink