The Place Where the Lost Things Go...

It might not surprise you, but I have seen Mary Poppins Returns 2 times, with two different groups of people, and plan to see it a third time tomorrow with friends. Each time as the movie ends, I can’t help but be in awe of the magic, and the way that Mary Poppins makes you think everything is possible, even the impossible. This movie is moving and inspiring. It makes you smile, laugh, and cry all within about a 2-hour span. To see the way that Mary can help children find their imagination and find their childhood again. To watch her as she is one of the most empathetic people, who truly asks for nothing in return, she just wants to help and every time that the camera pans to her face, you see that she feels so deeply for the Banks family. This movie invites us to approach difficult topics with children, topics like death. Death often makes us uncomfortable and it often causes sadness, both of which make us not want to talk about it, sometimes not allowing the space for questions, thoughts, or memories to be talked about. The other part of this is that death often begs the question (especially for children), "what if I forget?" There is no easy answer, but I feel like Mary Poppins responds in a beautiful and simple way in the song, The Place Where the Lost Things Go.

The words go like this:

Do you ever lie awake at night?

Just between the dark and the morning light

Searching for the things you used to know

Looking for the place where the lost things go

Do you ever dream or reminisce? 

Wondering where to find what you truly miss

Well maybe all those things that you love so

Are waiting in the place where the lost things go

Memories you've shared gone for good you feared 

They're all around you still though they've disappeared

Nothing's really left or lost without a trace

Nothing's gone forever only out of place

So maybe now the dish and my best spoon

Are playing hide and seek just behind the moon

Waiting there until it's time to show

Spring is like that now far beneath the snow

Hiding in the place where the lost things go

Time to close your eyes so sleep can come around

For when you dream you'll find all that's lost is found

Maybe on the moon or maybe somewhere new

Maybe all you're missing lives inside of you

So when you need her touch and loving gaze

Gone but not forgotten is the perfect phrase

Smiling from a star that she makes glow

Trust she's always there watching as you grow

Find her in the place where the lost things go

Every time that I see this film and hear this song, I automatically think of those in my life that I have lost, and right now, I am really thinking about my Meme.

Meme, my grandmother would have been 85 years old on January 2. Meme was my heart. She understood me, she made me laugh when I was sad, she calmed me when I was mad at my mom, her daughter, eventually helping me understand that my mom was right. She gave me my love for musicals by watching them with me. She would stand by the door waiting for me as I came home from a date, and the first question was always, "How did it go? Did he kiss you?" She was always interested in what was going on in any of her grandkids or children's lives. She wanted what was best for them and would do anything to make it happen. 

She loved people, especially her people, and she among others taught me how to love people. She had the same hairdresser that she went to see every Friday morning and whom she followed around for years. They genuinely cared about each other, and when Meme was too frail to go to her hairdresser, she came to Meme. When Meme lost her hair because of the chemo, she painted her nails. Meme loved her, and she loved Meme. Meme was the kind of person that others wanted to love, as well. 

She had the oddest first name, and truth be told I don't think she liked it much. But to us, she was our Meme and that’s all that mattered. She had a way of lighting up a room when she walked in it. She taught me many things: the joy of cooking and watching people eat the meal you made; she taught me how to listen (though often towards the end, she would fall asleep on me); she and my mom taught me how to love by giving thoughtful and meaningful gifts; She taught me how to love by letting me sit in her floor below her bed when I couldn't sleep, and eventually she would wake up and play with my hair and talk until I got tired. 

When I was in middle school and high school, meme lived with us, and one of her favorite things to do was to get out of the house and go for a drive every day, and often on that drive she would buy white chocolate Reese's and put them in the fridge when she got home. Inevitably I would find my way to the fridge after school for a drink or a snack, and there they were sitting in the door waiting for me to eat one. Her favorite snack, however, was sugar and salt. She used to hide different foods in her nightstand, so mom couldn't find them, she was diabetic and was on a low sodium diet. I always kept her secret! Though if I had known how dangerous those foods were for her, I might not have. But then maybe she wouldn't have shared her pringles at 2am. Lol!

The other thing that really reminds me of Meme is the cross that I often wear around my neck. That was the last gift she ever gave me. I was 16 years old, and she gave this cross that she used to wear around her neck every day for as long as I could remember, and promised me when I was about 5 years old (walking around with this long chain and a gold cross at the end) that I would get it when I turned 16. She held that promise, even though I had long forgotten it. 

You never know how much you’re going to miss those people that mean the absolute most to you until you lose them. Meme never saw me graduate. She never saw me wear that dress to Prom. She'll never hear me preach and do what I am called to do. She'll never meet my future husband or her great-grandchildren. She'll never meet her two great-grandchildren that exist right now, and she'll never see her children grow old. 

I can't lie, even now I miss my Meme. I miss her love of the Chicago Bulls (even though this was really because Micahel Jordan played for the Bulls), I miss her laugh and I miss her. I wish I could have one more day and tell her how much I love her. I never got to tell her because the last time I saw her, I struggled through a psalm as I read it to her, and I couldn't put two words together to tell her how much I loved her. I just kissed her on the forehead and said I would be back. I thought I had more time. But I didn't. 

I know she knew how much I loved her. Just like I know how much she loved me. But I still miss her. 

I think one of the things that I have learned about grief, not just by living my own grief but by watching others grieve, is that grief doesn’t ever go away. In some ways, it’s always there. But it changes over time. The memories become bittersweet, sometimes you think of them and smile, and there will always be triggers, some you learn to deal with because you see them coming and some come out of nowhere. Nothing ever goes back to the same after you lose someone, you simply find a new normal. And the hardest part is that the new normal only include them in your heart and memories. 

Then my mind goes back to the lyrics from Mary Poppins Returns:

So, when you need her touch and loving gaze
Gone but not forgotten is the perfect phrase
Smiling from a star that she makes glow
Trust she's always there watching as you grow
Find her in the place where the lost things go

Meme has been gone now for 15 years. It’s hard to believe that it’s been that long, yet there are still moments when I see something that reminds me of her, especially when I look in the mirror and take the time to really see the cross around my neck or anytime I see those white chocolate Reese’s Cups; it brings a smile to my face, a flashback to my mind, and often a tear in my eye.

But you know what... I am ok with that. I want to remember those moments, even the ones that weren’t life-altering because it’s in those fleeting moments that I can hear or see her once more. And while I don’t live only in those moments, every once in a while, it’s nice to remember and smile because I know that she is watching me grow and that Meme is the place where the lost things go. 

Presence

The day was August 26, 2007. It was the Sunday before the beginning of my Junior year of college. I was walking into that year having changed my major… again, and not really knowing what I was going to do with my life. Back in May of that year, I remember telling everyone that was on the choir tour that I was going into ministry, but to be quite honest, that terrified me. I went home for the summer and came back to school convinced that God was not calling me into ministry, that I had simply misheard. I wanted to help people. I didn’t know what it meant, but that was what I wanted to do. So I majored in sociology. 

As per usual on the Sunday before classes, I went to Wesley. My home. As I sat in that room, that sacred space, the space that even now when I walk into it, I feel the presence of God. That space that when I sit down on one of the couches (they are different couches now thankfully), I can see the room lit only by the candle in the middle of the room as each person would go to take communion and prayer at the alter on any given Wednesday evening. That space that when I walk through the door I still expect to see those people who loved me and whom I loved, and who to this day I know if I needed something they would be there. That space that I can still hear “We are one in the Spirit” being sung a capella as we close worship each Wednesday night. That space, that sacred space. On that particular evening, I sat in the back of the room on the couch, I can/t remember who was sitting next to me, but it could have been Amanda Dennis (Harrell), but don’t quote me on that. We sang a few songs and then we sat down and we awaited a sermon from Bud. I love a good Bud sermon. Bud has this gift where he can take anything, even the most obscure object or film and bring light and God out of it. I had missed his preaching over the summer so I waited anxiously to hear what he had to say. He began to preach and I honestly don’t remember what he said, but he wouldn’t stop looking at me as he spoke. At first, it didn’t bother me because I figured he would look somewhere else soon, but I realized that he just kept talking and looking directly at me,. Later in the evening, I asked Bud why he kept looking at me, he said, “it felt right so I kept doing it.” Bud didn’t know that I had decided to walk away from whatever call I had. And Bud didn’t know what those words were doing, whatever he was saying was changing my heart and opening my heart to where God had called me to be. It was a Sunday that would begin to unravel even more where I would end up.

 I have told this story many times, but for the life of me, I couldn’t remember what he preached on that evening that began turning my plans upside down until tonight…

I have been going through my guest room closet, you know the closet. The one where you hide everything and there are things all the way up to the ceiling with no organization in sight. Well, I was tired of it so I rearranged my guest room and cleaned out my closet. I went through every picture that was present, some bringing back some great memories, some causing a great amount of pain, some that made me laugh out loud and some that simply made me reminiscence about “the good ole days.” But then, I also emptied 4 boxes of books that needed to be put on the shelves, and several of them were journals from the past. I opened the green one first and as I read through I was surprised to come across an entry from August 26, 2007, it read: 

“It’s the night before classes begin again. I am not really nervous but I am. I am nervous about the online classes. Lord, tonight Bud talked about being the presence of Christ. What does that mean? I mean to me personally? What am I supposed to be? I really feel like I am going where I do feel led to go, but while he was talking tonight it was like he was speaking directly to me. I don’t know what to do! I am at a dead end, I don’t know if I should turn right or left. I feel lost. I need your help.”

What I didn’t know is that God had answered that prayer. God had already shown me the way, I just hadn’t found it yet. I would spend that semester trying to figure out what to do with my life and trying to figure out why adults think that a college student should make a decision that would determine the rest of her life while she is in college. I mean, seriously! It was during this semester that I would join the UMC, taking all that I had learned growing up and spreading my wings. It was that semester that I would find a new church home in a retirement community 40 minutes away from Cookeville because they felt like home. It was that semester that I would wrestle with this idea of being a pastor and I would go back and forth and spend numerous hours talking to Bud, Lanita, Max, and so many others and trying to convince myself that I was wrong or that I misheard.

God began something in me a long time ago, something that I didn’t even know existed inside of me. A love for God and a love for people and God showed me that the best way to combine those two loves was to be a pastor. I would never have been prepared to listen to God if God hadn't begun calling me through other people who allowed God to move through them.

This morning in worship, I had the honor of baptizing a beautiful little girl. As I read questions to her parents and baptized her and prayed over her “The Holy Spirit work within you, that having been born through water and the Spirit, you may live as a faithful disciple of Jesus Christ,” I couldn’t help but wonder how will God use her over all of the years of her life. And how now I can't help but wonder how many people would God use to speak to her and how many times would God use her to speak to other people.

I don't tell this story so that you can tell me if I made the right choice or even as any praise to me. I tell this story because we need to be reminded that God uses people every day to change the trajectory of our lives by speaking through a person. I tell this story also to remind us that one day, there will be another little girl or boy who will grow up and God will speak to them through you, just as there will be people in the congregation this morning that God will use to speak to that little girl. Please don’t be afraid to allow God to use you to speak to another. God will use you, be open to it.

I’m Not Ready...

This afternoon, I got home and just wanted to watch something silly. So I turned on Netflix and was flipping through the available movies, and settled on Dr. Strange. I realize that Dr. Strange isn’t silly, and I found that it was actually very stressful (but so good!!), and so profound on so many levels, but there was one scene that took me by surprise (shocker, I know)):

Dr. Stephen Strange: I’m not ready.
The Ancient One: No one ever is. We don’t get to choose our time. Death is what gives life meaning. To know your days are numbered. Your time is short.
[she holds Strange’s hand]
The Ancient One: You’d think after all this time I’d be ready, but look at me. Stretching one moment out into a thousand just so that I can watch the snow.

While the Ancient One was talking about death, and Dr. Strange was talking about fighting the powerful Dormammu, I believe that that the phrase, “I’m not ready” could be said about so many things in life, not just about death or in a fight. Over my 30 years, I don’t know how many times I have found myself saying that same statement, “I’m not ready,” nor do I know how many times I have heard it from other people. To be fully ready for anything takes preparation. Some preparation is easy, but some is difficult and hard. Some preparation can bring you to tears and some can bring you to laughter. There is this idea that for us to accomplish anything or be anything means that we have to be ready. At this point in the film, Dr. Strange had gone through so much preparation, but never felt like it was enough. Is there ever enough time to prepare? Will you ever be ready for that exam that you studied like crazy for? Will you ever be ready for something new? Or will we will always be wanting more time to prepare, more time to be ready?

One of the profound time that I remember saying “I am not ready” was when I told the pastor at the church that I was serving in, that I did not want to to become the youth director after it suddenly became available. He came to me a few days later and asked me to consider taking the role. By the end of the day, I had agreed to become the new Youth director at the church. To say I was nervous was an understatement. I was Terrified! There were many moments in that role that I had no idea what I was doing, but what I learned was that each time I found myself not knowing what to do, God placed people in my life to help me learn. In fact, looking back, God has consistently placed people in my life to help me find my way when I didn’t know where to go or what to do. I will forever be thankful to that Pastor because in many ways he was allowing God to use him so that I could find my way, just as God has used so many others.

This doesn’t mean that one should never prepare, nor does it mean that I want to just be thrown into something without the preparation that I actually need for whatever is ahead. It also doesn’t mean that I will never use the words “I am not ready” again, because the reality is there will be many moments when I don’t feel ready. But what this scene reminds me of is that even in the moments when I don’t feel ready, I know that I am not alone in feeling unprepared (no matter how prepared I really am). But I also see how even when we think we aren’t ready, we are still put in the game, and somehow we survive, even if we fail, we survive and we try again. 

So maybe one will never be ready no matter how prepared you are... or maybe we are more ready than we think we are, we just have to take the leap. 

For me, in those moments in the past and those moments that will be in the future where I will find myself feeling not ready, it’s often taking a leap of faith knowing that no matter where I land, God has me, that can be hard. The thing is, no matter how young or old you are, no matter how much life you have lived, no matter how many times God has brought you through those moments sometimes having faith to take the leap is scary... but in the end is so worth it. 

So, Here’s to us all taking a leap even in, especially in, the moments when we are so NOT ready!e

P.S. If you are reading this terrified of what is in front of you... know that you aren’t alone, we all have our moments! Your allowed to have your moment.

I wait...

Typically, on this night, Holy Saturday, the night before Resurrection, I would have already been asleep by now. For the last several years I have awoken at around 3:30 on Easter Morning so that I could get to the church by about 4:30, have my first Coca-Cola of the day, and make sure that all the scripts and folders were in order for the youth that were coming to lead us in the Sunrise service. By the time they got there at 5:30, I was ready to go. On most of those Easter mornings, I would literally sit and watch the sunrise and think how different the day would be from the day before. I remember one of those mornings so clearly, I had gotten to the park early and the youth hadn’t come from warm-ups at the church, it was so cold, but I sat on the edge of the amphitheater and watched the sunrise over the concession stand in the park. All I could think was “I dreaded this moment because it was early, but I am so glad I made it.”

Tonight, however, I am sitting on my porch in one of my favorite rocking chairs drinking hot tea as I prepare for bed and thinking about how different this year is. Now, hear me say that I am grateful for different and I am grateful to not have to be up at 3:30 in the morning, but it is different, and I will wake up to experience a whole new Easter Sunday with a people that I have grown to love and care for deeply.

This season of lent that ends in a few hours, is a season that began with us remembering our humanity. As we receive the ashes upon our foreheads we are told, “from dust, you came to dust you shall return,” reminding us of our need for repentance and for forgiveness. This season of lent has done just that for me. There have been great moments where everything just fell into place, but there have been other moments where I have either fallen flat on my face or have been put in my place, and rightly so. But as each day ended, we found ourselves moving closer and closer to Palm Sunday, which begins Holy Week and ends at a cross. For three long days, it seems like all of the darkness in the world will overcome the light that it blew out.

So, for now, I sit, in the darkness that is night, and wait. I wait anxiously for the coming morning. I wait for the light that will enter into the sanctuary as we proclaim, “Christ is Risen!” I wait for the joy that comes with each new morning, but specifically for the joy that comes with remembering that Christ is alive and that Christ lives within us and moves among us. I wait for tomorrow. I long for tomorrow.

But for tonight, I wait. Maybe it’s a good thing to wait. I live in a world where I could have anything and everything if I wanted it. I could place an online order with a restaurant and it would be at my door within 40 minutes. I could buy/rent a book or a movie with one click. I can talk to friends without actually having to talk to them. Maybe it’s a good thing to learn to wait. Maybe it’s good to long for something and it not be instantly given to you. Maybe it’s good to be open to sitting in the longing that you have. Maybe it’s good to feel the longing, to experience the waiting.

I can’t imagine what it must have been like for the disciples and those who followed Jesus. The one person who they thought was going to change everything is now lying in a tomb and to top it all off, they are terrified that they are coming for them next. They just sit waiting, not having a clue what to do, and grieving the loss of their dear friend and leader. I wait knowing that Christ is risen, they waited not knowing. They waited in anguish and sadness and heartache. I wait with anticipation. They waited in fear that everything is over. I wait knowing that it isn’t over. They waited.

Tomorrow is my favorite day of the year, and it is the day where it all continues in ways that the disciples never saw coming. It is a day where trumpets will play, the hallelujah chorus will be sung, and joy will be on everyone’s faces. It is a day where the darkness cannot overcome the light. It is a day where I can’t help but smile. I can’t help but laugh. I can’t help but be in awe. I can’t help but feel just a bit closer to God. I can’t help but be excited… because I know that tomorrow the story continues with the ultimate plot twist.

But tonight. I wait. Recognizing my own darkness in my life, and praying that the light will shine upon it… and that the darkness within my soul can dissipate, and that the light can fill it.

Thank you, Katherine Graham.

It should come as no surprise to anyone who knows me that I love the movies. I love the smell of the theater, the sometimes uncomfortable seats, and the hustle and bustle that evening at the movies can sometimes produce. But more than anything, I love the way the stories are told. Sometimes they are fantasy, sometimes animated, sometimes dramatic, sometimes romantic, sometimes scary (I don’t enjoy those…), and sometimes they are real and raw. Movies can tell the stories of those who came before us that have been forgotten and encourage us to look back at our history so that we can see where we have been and what has brought us to today.

Yesterday afternoon, I watched one of those real and raw movies, I saw “The Post.” I must admit when the trailer first came out, I found it intriguing but I really wanted to see the movie because two of favorite performers were acting in it: Meryl Streep and Tom Hanks. I didn’t realize when I walked into the theater and sat down in the surprisingly comfortable seat that the next two hours would not only capture my imagination but make me grieve the many parts of history that I didn’t know.

Knowing my love of story, you can probably guess that I love to read. I have read many history books, biographies, and autobiographies just to be able to soak up stories of real-life people. You see, I believe, history tells us where we have been, how we have gotten here, and sometimes it can tell us where we must go from here.  As I watched this film play out in front of me, I tried to find in my memory this story. I tried to think back on all of the history classes that I have taken over my lifetime and the books that I have read, and I could not place this story and it grieved me. By the end of the film, one thought was in my mind, “It is because of this woman and women like her that I have the ability to do what I do. It is because of their willingness to give of themselves to risk everything that they had for something they believed in.” Why do we only hear about these stories once Hollywood decides to write a screenplay about their life?

Yes, this film was a film that was probably a little bit dramatized but it told the story of one woman who was willing to risk her entire company and her life for something that she believed in. Growing up, I heard that women fought for their rights, that they fought for the right to vote, for the right to work, for the right to have equal pay (something that we still work for), and in the church, for the right to be ordained. But I didn’t grow up in the time that this story of Katherine Graham actually existed, so to me, it has always just been a story, been a part of who I am, yes, but a story nonetheless. But yesterday, as I watched the difficulty and the way that Katherine was treated, not just by her adversaries but by those whom she called friends, it allowed me to grasp just a moment of what it was like. It allowed me to see just how much she was risking. It made me think about all that I have taken for granted in my life. I took for granted that I was able to be educated and receive a college degree; I have taken for granted that I have the ability to vote; I have taken for granted the fact that I could be an ordained Elder in the United Methodist Church. While Katherine Graham may not have directly affected any of these things, it is because of people like Katherine Graham that I can take these things for granted, not that I should.

I stated earlier that I didn’t grow up living in that time, I didn’t have to fight for any of my rights, I didn’t have to fight for my ordination, but I have friends who did. I have friends who like Katherine Graham, gave all that they had so that I and so many others could. And it is those friends and Katherine Graham that I have to thank. Thank you for being willing to teach those who would come after you how to stand up for what you believe in, even if it means risking your job, your company, your relationships, or even your life.

Katherine Graham was a pioneer. She, along with other women set a precedent that would lead us to where we are today. While I didn't grow up in that time, I am growing up in this time and even in the last 30 years, I have watched the roles of women change and I can see that there is still a long way to go, and it makes me wonder, do I have the courage to give of myself for something I believe in? Would I have been willing to say, “publish it,” knowing that I could lose everything? Will I have the courage to stand even when others say I shouldn't? May we not take for granted that which has been gifted to us by the many others that have come before us. May we live in such a way that their gift isn’t forgotten or taken for granted, but celebrated.

Thank you, Katherine Graham.