Need for creative writing

One of my key roles is to be a story teller. It is my job to convey the stories and significance of the Bible in meaningful and relatable ways.  One of the best ways to do that is storytelling.  Some scriptures come alive easily and readily and others require that you mine the significance.  Often, as a preacher, I can recognize my preaching as a true gift from God in how easily the words come.  And, I know I’m struggling when I have to fight to write.  It may be that my spirit is dry, or that my mind is distracted. But, clearly, one way or the other I have something to work on. 

I often have multiple writing commitments (sermons, articles, FB postings…) those things can be fun, but they can also be a drag. And often I struggle to get those done if I’m not writing freely without expectations or constraints.  My hope is to revive my blog a bit to help stir that creative energy that I miss on a day to day basis.  

Prayer for Focus

Dear Lord, 

Help me to be centered on you. 

Give me energy. 

Give me inspiration. 

Give me insight into your people and your Word. 

Help me to listen. 

I lay my burdens at your feet. 

You have far greater wisdom and care for them than I. 

I leave them with you so I may focus on the work at hand.  

When it’s time to pick them up again, 

show me how to follow you.  

In Jesus’ name, 

amen.  

Susie's Surprise

This is a classic in our house…the stories…not the recipes.  lol.  I can hardly say “Susie’s surprise” without laughing. And if you have my brother, sister, and or dad and I together, we can generally all start to giggle, at least a little, at the memories.  

Let me start by saying my mom was a good cook. She cooked a lot of meals for all of us for a lot of years.  Most of those very good meals left no imprint on my brain.  I’m sorry mom.  

The meals that will live forever (in infamy) are those called “Susie’s Surprise”.  These were generally meals that came together as my mom tried to use up leftovers and clean out the fridge.  Maybe mom’s downfall was that she could find a use for just about anything…including a montage of food.  

I was particularly mindful of Susie’s Surprise yesterday as I excitedly planned meals to use our ham leftovers from Easter. I could make fried rice, mac-n-cheese and ham, split pea soup, quiche and navy bean soup.  I look forward to each of those meals and consider each of them fairly normal in the food categories.  I’m certain my mom made similar meals with left overs.  Sadly, I don’t remember those.  

I can’t even tell you all the weird Susie’s surprise concoctions she made. Just that they were weird.  Really weird.  Not like pot pie, or fried rice, or turkey soup….weird…like some odd combination of already combined foods (like casseroles) re-combined to be a “Surprise!”  I do remember a salad with all kinds of things including tuna, olives, and kidney beans.  I’m not even sure what else.  None of us were thrilled to eat it and we definitely thought it was too weird to be shared with the neighbor.  Sorry Ada.  

Cleaning Out Old Skeletons

Somehow the least appealing boxes to unpack are ones that have a random assortment of paperwork.  With every move there are boxes that have a hodgepodge of items and I’ll regularly open the box, look in, see the smattering of items and close it right back up with no desire to sort through all that randomness.  Well, the purging bug bit last week and I spent a good bit of time sorting through those boxes.  I got through at least 11 and have 5 of them refilled with items for a yard sale. Not bad for a day’s work.  

As I sorted I found lots of old files…sermons, seminary papers, tax documents, cards, letters and more.  One of the things I found was a 5 page document outlining the list of egregious (in my opinion) actions of a former boss.  I had written the list at the end of my employment there and shared it with our supervisor so that if something happened in the future, our supervisor would know it wasn’t an isolated incident.  This particular person had a habit of being hurtful, mean spirited, and spiteful.  I turned in one copy and saved one for myself.  And as I sifted through paperwork I found those pages all over again.  A skeleton of sorts that hangs in out in the closet.  

Over the years, I recovered it a handful of times.  I read through the report and am often surprised at just how bad it was.  My memory has had a way of softening the harshness of those months under his awful leadership.  But when I re-read my notes and am reminded of the pain I endured.  Each time I’ve been reluctant to throw it out.  It’s seemed necessary to hold onto it. 

But this time was different. This time it seems I need to be done reliving those wounds.  At this point I know it was hard to work with him and that he was awful to me.  And that’s enough. I don’t need to keep revisiting the details. 

So I bid farewell to that ugly old skeleton.  

Spirit of Helping

My mom was a helper. She enjoyed filling a need and could step in to most any task at any point and help it be successful.  Do you need a cook? She could do that. Do you need a florist? She could do that! Do you need a childcare provider? She could do that. Do you need a prayer person? She could do that.  Do you need a scripture reader? She could do that. Do you need your pants hemmed? She could do that.  She could do most anything and she would to help most anybody.

My list of the ways she helped me over the years could go on and on (and probably should).  But in this Holy Week, I am thinking of her help in leading worship.  My first appointment was to Hemet UMC. In my first year, I was assigned to leading Palm/Passion Sunday.  Liturgically, the Sunday before Easter can go either way...focused on Palm Sunday or focused on the Passion.  I hated to choose.  I didn't want to skip Palm Sunday and I hated that people wouldn't come to Maundy Thursday or Good Friday and wanted them to have to sit with the sorrow of the Passion.  So, I did "Palm to Passion Sunday" and used the liturgy to explore the various events of that week.  The final element was to turn off the lights and hammer nails into a cross and let the sound echo in the sanctuary.  Then it was silent.

My mom was there for that service and was more than happy to help. So she hammered the nails.  The liturgy had been powerful and then the darkness, the silence, the hammering, and more silence, it really spoke to people.  And I remember how it spoke to her and how even in the busyness of orchestrating the liturgy, she was touched.  I am grateful she was always supportive of my ministry and willing to lend a hand in so many ways.

For the saints

On October 6th of 2016, we held a gathering of saints (yes, the living ones) to say goodbye to my mom. It was held at my home church, Bishop First UMC.  And, truth be told, it was an amazing reunion of beautiful people from my mom's life. There was family from all over the country and there were friends dating back to her childhood. Over the years, her friends, of course, became our friends and extended family.  There were people from every stage of my life.  People we had traveled with, camped with, done 4th of July with, worshipped with, done mission work with, done ministry with, prayed with, and shared many many meals with.  They were the people who helped form and shape me--pastor, Sunday School teacher, my mom's prayer partners, aunts, uncles, teachers, and more.  They comprise the tapestry of my childhood (and beyond).  


I'm not sure I can properly convey how precious it was to hug them and tell them hi.  And I so wished my mom could have been there to enjoy it. She would have adored having time with each of them. She easily could have talked until midnight as she caught up with each and every one. 

I am so very thankful for each of these people and the love they have shared with my family over the years.  And I am thankful for my mom who loved them and nurtured relationships that span a lifetime.  

Give of Yourself

Mom was always thinking of others. Always.  I don’t know that she knew another way of operating.  (One ironic and poignant example was when she was needing to be up and walking and exercising in order to gain back strength.  Yet, we could barely find a single way to motivate her.  At the same time my husband was needing to push himself to do more exercise.  In true Sue fashion, she volunteered to do a measure of walking for every measure of walking Rick did.  They weren’t equal, but in an attempt to encourage and motivate him, she offered to be an exercise buddy of sorts.  She wasn’t ready to do it for herself. But she was ready to do it for him.).  She always was thinking about how to do what would be good for another.  

One particular blessing she gave me was when I was a new mom with Ruth home from the hospital.  Each night I would nurse her and then my mom would take her and rock her for a few hours until she was ready to nurse again. Then she would bring Ruth into my room so I could nurse and put her down.  You could argue it was selfish (or at least not totally self-less) since she got to hold her granddaughter.  But her true motivation was to help me and let me get some good sleep.  Sure, she enjoyed it, but she was thinking of me.  

I am grateful for that gift and the memory of her holding Ruth and rocking her to sleep.   

Do the unexpected

As a parent, my mom was wonderful because she was consistent and, in most ways, predictable.  If you were refusing to finish your dinner, she would ask you your age and after you replied, say "5", that was how many bites she assigned (if you were particularly lacking, she might assign 5 bites of meat, and 5 bites of vegetables.  But, it was still consistent (and seemingly fair since 5 is a good number for 5 year olds).  Similarly, if you were acting out, you might earn 5 minutes of time out (unless you were 8, then it would be 8).  It was predictable and consistent.  It wasn't based on how well or poorly her day had gone, but on a specific strategy of parenting.

Then, sometimes, she would do something totally unexpected. Like the one time she served us waffle cone bowls and let us make ice cream sundaes for dinner. Not dessert. That was dinner.  Once.  It only happened once, but man did it stick!  It was a beautiful thing.

She did special things for us and by making them out of the ordinary, they became extraordinary and that was awesome!

Remembering the markers

Happy anniversary!  

Today would have been this lovely couple's 46th anniversary.  

I can hardly imagine what it would be like to spend the day, after over 46 years together, without your beloved.  What I do know is that they shared a lot of love over the years, both with each other and with others.  In 2015, then into 2016, she spent about 6 months in rehab, then a little time in the sun in San Diego before heading home. They'd only been home a couple of days and she still managed to arrange a surprise party/dinner with friends at a local restaurant.  She loved to plan surprises (though really preferred to anticipate the joy for herself), to buy gifts, and to spend time with friends.  

I'm grateful for the amazing example of love, care, support, encouragement, trust, generosity, and service that I have in my parents.  They didn't fight in front of us.  They communicated regularly and openly. They were intentional in showing love in various *languages. They proved that marriage takes work and it's worth it.

Parenting advice

Parenting is hard work. If you’re a parent, you know that.  If you’re not, you should know why the parents around you are exhausted and sometimes at their wits-end!  There is love, snuggles, cuteness, and laughter—all of which are awesome.  And there are tantrums, power struggles, food battles, and learning wars that are not so awesome.  

I have to say my parents (yes, both of them) are amazing, stellar, cream of the crop parents.  They are amazing people too. But as parents, they rocked it.  They were consistent, even keel, affirming, loving, kind, and a wonderful example.  I cannot remember one instance where either of them yelled. Not once.  As a parent myself, that’s pretty miraculous.  I wish I could say the same about myself as a parent.  Instead I’ll just say I’m a work in progress.  

Before I was a parent, I was a youth leader, youth counselor and youth pastor. I worked with teens at summer camp and in the church for years. And from time to time I would need advice about how to work with one.  Regularly, I’d call my parents to ask for their input.  Almost without fail, if I asked my dad, he’d say something like, “You should ask your mother; I learned everything I know from her.” And he’d pass the phone to my mom.  

Always, she’d have an answer. She was an educator who had both her masters and extensive continuing education training.  She and my dad took ELEVEN parenting classes before my brother was born.  (He was the firstborn).  ELEVEN classes.  That’s a lot.  I mean, parenting is hard, I get that, I’m grateful I’ve had 3 classes.  I could benefit from 11, maybe it’d help the yelling thing…anyway.  She knew a lot. She understood behavior from a developmental perspective, as well as a social one, and even an intelligence level one.  She could identify the underlying issues and offer a dozen options for how to handle it and work with the student.  

And then once I had Ruth, she continued to offer good wisdom.  It’s a bit different as a grandparent because you don’t want to stick your nose in where it doesn’t belong (or isn’t solicited) and as a parent you don’t want to be seen as a failure (or at least that’s my issue) and so you (I) don’t always ask for advice when you should.  

In January we started a new stage, it’s super *fun*.  I don’t know which stage it is exactly…my mom would have been the one to tell me that.  But it’s where my kid asserts her independence by ignoring, arguing, or defying most every bit of instruction I give.  I wish I understood it so I had more patience for it.  And, I wish I had my mom’s dozen options for how to curb it before it drives me insane.  

I miss her. I wish I could call.  It makes me sad she’s not on the other end of a phone ready to answer.  But it also makes me grateful that I was raised by someone so amazing.  

Missing My Mom

My grief has been hitting particularly hard.  The day my mom passed, I sobbed. Hard. For a long time.  While her death wasn’t unexpected, it was unreal that she was actually gone.  And then I quickly fell into the doing…thinking about her service, writing liturgy, helping sort at the house.  The busy work of grief.  And I didn’t feel it much.  I missed her, but it didn’t sting like grief often does.  And then January came and my grief hit like a ton of bricks.  Grief is funny that way. It comes in all kinds of shapes and sizes, often unpredictably for things we’d never imagine.  

I’ve been remembering a lot and savoring various memories.  And still the sadness lingers.  And that’s ok. I’d certainly tell someone I counsel at the church that it’s ok to be sad.  At the same time, I hope for something beyond the sadness.  So, I thought I’d start writing and sharing memories, hoping that something more fruitful might happen, or at least that it would provoke the tears to do the healing work. 

It will likely be a series of posts, memories and lessons from my mom.  I like assonance as a communication tool, so I’ll stick with “Momma Mondays” and share my stories of her.  

Guided Meditation

Make yourself comfortable. Close your eyes. Take a deep breath.  Relax your shoulders.  Lay your hands in your lap.  Take a deep breath.  Breathe in the breath of God. Breathe out your worries,  your fears,  your pain and your doubt.  

You find yourself sitting in a comfortable, overstuffed arm chair in front of a big picture window.  To your right is a big fire in the fire place. In front of you through the window, are the rolling hills of the Palouse, covered in fresh snow.  

You are comfortable. You are warm and you are relaxed. 

You have a hot drink and can simply enjoy the beauty of the scene in front of you.  

As you look out you notice a handful of robins just outside the window,  eating berries from a tree. You are reminded of God's word to trust in God's provision as God even provides for the birds in the dead of winter.  How true it is.  Most of the plants are covered in snow,  and yet here are the birds eating what God has provided.

You are encouraged to trust God...even when things seem barren.  The Holy Spirit speaks into your heart showing you how God wants you to trust.  

Take a deep breath and listen to what the Spirit is telling you.  (Pause 15 seconds)

You focus on the birds awhile longer.  They play and eat and the simplicity of their task makes you smile.  You yearn for some of that simplicity in your own life.  If only you had less on your plate.  

You take a sip of your drink, savoring the flavor.  Then another deep breath. Breathe in the Holy Spirit. Breathe out your stress. You invite God to show you what you might let go of.  

Listen to God’s answer.  

Take another deep breath. Notice the air in your lungs. Take a moment to reflect on what God has shown you today.  

Breathe deeply. As you are ready, open your eyes.  

Will they even know?

Christmas brings lots of traditions….many of which involve decorations.  We put up lights. We put up trees. We put up nativities. We put up wreaths.  We put out special Christmas dishes. We put up all kinds of things to signal the season and celebrate the coming of Christ.  But often we do those things for ourselves.  We do them inside, but are we bothering to do anything outside?  Ok, maybe a few strands of lights at the house, but what about the church?  Would someone who doesn’t attend have any idea of the festivities inside based on what has changed during Advent?  

What is it that tells the world Jesus is coming?  We could put lights on the outside of the church and pretend it’s the lights and the ornaments and the decorations…but that actually only highlights what people already know (culturally, that is, Christmas is a time of shopping, baking, and decorating).  But, as Christians, Christmas is meant to be more than what the culture knows. Christmas is about the indwelling of Emmanuel—God with us.  We’re called to celebrate Christmas over and again, not just to remember (though that’s certainly part of it) that God came once, but to know and share that God is Emmanuel every day, not just on that one day.

As people called to follow and imitate Christ, God is with us.  And, for many, we become the “only Christ they will know.”  We aren’t just supposed to wait for him to do something. But we are called to be do-ers of the Word who live like Christ and share his gifts with others.  in many ways, we are invited to give rise to the Kingdom of God here on earth.  

So, the question becomes, how are we doing that? How are we a living example of what Christ has done, but also what he is doing, and will do in the future?  Are our lives a proclamation of the Good News?  Do people feel the love of Christ when they are with us?  Do they feel known and accepted for who they are? Loved? Appreciated? Not just the people who know us and love us, but the strangers and the outsiders. How do they encounter us? What about our witness tells them that Jesus is coming and that’s a good thing?  

I’ve been encouraged by the outpouring of jackets, coats, and blankets for those living on the street in Spokane—that’s a living witness to Jesus’ generosity.  The gifts you are getting for Christmas for Kids will tell children they are important, valued, and loved.  The cards you will send and the cookies you will make tell people they are remembered and cherished. Each of those things are a living witness.  God is with us in those places.  And God has the potential to be even more present in our lives and in our witness. It doesn’t have to involve spending money or giving tangible gifts. It also involves time, care, inclusion, and intentionality.  

Christmas is just 3 weeks away.  That time may go quickly, but it will provide plenty of moments in which we can show grace, love, and kindness that mimics Christ. Will people know Christ through you?  

Cheer for them all

Yesterday Ruth had the "Turkey Trot" at school.  The kids (k-5) are divided into teams with a child from each grade.  Then each grade group is taken one at a time to run their leg of the race.  At "go!" They run the perimeter of the school yard and as they finish they're given a popsicle stick with their finishing place (Ruth got 11th out of nearly 75 kindergarteners). Each grade level runs together and at the end,  their stick numbers are added up to find the team with the lowest score. 

The night before we were talking to Ruth about it and encouraging her.  She, of course, wanted to win the free turkey,  which we said would be great,  but we offered that the most important thing would be for her to be a good team mate and cheer for her team no matter what. 

As the kids gathered and lined up,  they were full of excitement and anticipation.  When they were called, the kindergarteners ran up the hill to the starting point.  And then when the coach yelled "go!" They charged down the hill and along the path. And I started to cry. I have no idea why.  Maybe their exuberance?  Their joy?  Their little legs running?  And then I saw Ruth about 3/4 of the way back running along.  And I cried more.  She just kept running and she kept passing other kids and got all the way up to 11th. My heart burst with joy. I was so proud of her. 

As she ran by me I shouted, "Go Ruthie, go! You can do it!  Keep going!" And it was like hearing my mother straight out of my mouth.  She was a cheerleader.  Not the pom pom kind (though she acquired those along the way) but the cheer-them-on loud,  crazy kind.  She cheered and she cheered for everyone. And she just kept cheering right from my heart for all the kids behind Ruth.  "Good job guys! You can do it!  Keep it up!  You're doing great!  You're almost there! Just a little farther!"

And my heart bust with pride for how my mom cheered on everyone and it broke with grief that she is gone.  It made me miss her so much.  And it made me overwhelmingly grateful for her example and who she raised me to be. 

I hate to say it

Lots of people ask how I'm doing in dealing with my mom's death.  Most of the time I can say "I'm fine" or "About like you'd expect." And when I do I can keep it together and hardly feel the weight of the grief. I'm good at compartmentalizing and at deflecting. It's a practiced art. But sometimes I'm forced to name it outloud. I'll be sharing with someone who doesn't know and I'll have to say it.  Actaully say it.

"My mom died this summer."

And that's when it's hard.  That's when it's really real and I can't just gloss over it and pretend I'll be able to call her up tomorrow.  And I hate it.  I hate to say it because then the wall that holds all those emotions at bay cracks wide open and there they are in all their teary snotty splendor.

And yet as much as I hate it,  I know it's important and necessary and good. ..it's a part of the grief.  And my reality,  our reality,  is she's gone.  She's not with us.  She's not there for advice,  or support, or encouragement. And I hate that even more than I hate saying it. 

Espire: a place of sanctuary

When I was in seminary, a friend invited me to go with her to serve a hot meal to the homeless.  We got up early one morning, shared a meal with folks downtown who had spent the night on the street and then we went to a different room to hand out hats, dry socks, and toiletry items.  

If someone asked for a beanie, I randomly gave them one.  One man said he didn't want the random one I had pulled, instead he wanted one of a different color.  In my head, I sort of balked at his request thinking "beggars can't be choosers" but I gave him the hat anyway.

As we finished distributing items, my thoughts gnawed at me.  It was just a hat and we had plenty, what did it matter to me if he chose blue over grey?  Why had I been so harsh in my mind?  After all the guests had left, the workers sat down for reflection and devotion and I confessed my hard-hearted thoughts.  It hurt me that I had been so harsh (even if I didn't say it out-loud) to someone who had spent the night on the cold wet streets of Atlanta and simply wanted a different colored hat.  

After our breakfast volunteering, my friend Jessie and I returned weekly for an evening meal and then "foot clinic" where we washed people's feet, cutting out corns, scrapping away calluses, massaging their feet, lotioning them and then giving them clean dry socks.  It was beautiful and challenging all at the same time.  And I learned a lot as I heard stories from those (mostly) men.  I learned to see them as people and not problems.  I tried to learned the nuances of their struggles and the challenges of living on the street.  

Throughout my years of ministry, I have worked with and encountered hundreds of people who have spent the night or lived on the street.  I have shared meals, opened the showers, given clothes, distributed Bibles, offered a bottle of water or a granola bar, taken people to the bus depot, or arranged for a night in a hotel.  And I've heard many many stories of trials, job losses, family disputes, and battles with addiction.  

The issues that lead to homelessness are often complex and the solutions take time.  The churches I have served have faced various challenges in offering a place of sanctuary and grace.  Which is why I am so grateful to partner with an agency like Family Promise. I worked with them for 2 years in Valencia and now again in Moscow.  I am so appreciative of the ways they recognize the need in our community and equip lay volunteers to serve our neighbors in need.  It is a gift to work with people who care and who have a functioning structure and true accountability in their program.  

This Sunday we will begin our Fall week of hosting the families that are currently in the Family Promise Program.  It is an opportunity for us to share a meal, to help with kids (for parents who don't really get a break or have a simple "play room" where they can leave their kids while they cook dinner, or read a book, or make a phone call....when you're a parent on the streets, or even in the FP program, you are always "on"), to be a safe person to talk with, or simply be a presence in a warm place for them to stay.  

Prayer for preparation

Lord God,

Things are busy and my mind is racing.

 Life is full and there is always something more to do.  

There are lots of things to get done 

and it's hard to stop the noise and sense your power and presence for the work at hand. 

I invite your Spirit to move in my heart and my mind. 

Give me focus to see and hear the Christmas story anew.  

Guide my thoughts. Inspire my ideas.  

Renew my energies, 

so that the time of Advent would be a blessing and a gift in the life of the church.  

In your holy name I pray,

Amen. 

Forgiveness liturgy and meditations

We are in the middle of a forgiveness series and I had to be out for the second time in a month. Instead of lining up another guest speaker, I wrote out meditations to be read by laity as a way of walking people through different types of forgiveness.  

Prelude

Entrance of the light

Announcements

Introit

Call to worship:

L: From darkness and despair, from being lost and lonely, God calls us home.

P: Even though we have been selfish and let God down, we are still called beloved.
L: Remember the eternal love of God which has been poured out for you.

P: Our hearts rejoice at the wondrous ways in which God loves and forgives us.
L: Remember that in all your ways you can trust in God’s compassion.

Sharing Joys & Concerns

Prayers of the People

Offering

Hymn: What Wondrous Love Is This?

Last week, we began a series on Forgiveness.  Some of us might wonder, a series?  Why do we need more than one Sunday?  Can’t we just forgive and move on?  Generally not.  Most of us wonder if we can’t just move on when forgiving is difficult.  It’d be easier to stuff it down and move on, but it’s really not worth carrying that burden any further.  

One of the reasons we are often wary about forgiveness is we’ve heard mis-teachings.  The most popular false teaching  (at least as far as the scriptures are concerned) is “forgive and forget”.  How many of us believe or have been told that’s in the Bible?  (Hands raised).  Truth be told, the Bible is emphatic about our need for forgiveness, both as recipients and as those who grant it.  But nowhere does forgiveness hinge upon forgetting.  For many of us, especially those who have suffered betrayal, abuse, and manipulation, forgetting would push us back into bad or abusive relationships that are not good for us, and that is not what God wants for us.  

During this service, we want God to speak to each of us. To facilitate that, we invite you to do what is comfortable or necessary for you.  If you want to stay where you are, you may. If you want to come to the kneeling rail, you may. If you want to be the chapel area, you may.  If you want to pray during a hymn, you may.  If you need more time, please don’t feel rushed to move into the next section.  We trust the Spirit will move as it needs to.  If for some reason, a part of the service doesn’t speak to your heart, we invite you to pray for those around you or for someone you know.  

This morning, we are asking the Spirit to lead, inspire, and free us to forgive and be forgiven.  Let us pray:

Prayer: God of mercy and grace, fill us with your Holy Spirit.  Open our hearts, Lord, so we can hear you and respond to your movement in our lives.  Help us to do the work of forgiveness. Give us courage. Give us peace. Give us hope.  Soften the hardened places of our hearts.  Through Jesus Christ our Lord, amen.  

hymn: Turn Your Eyes Upon Jesus #349

Most of us have someone we need to forgive.  It may be a spouse, a child, a parent, or an extended family member.  It could be a co-worker or a boss.  It could be a neighbor or a friend.  It could be someone who has done something recent, or someone from a wrong committed long ago.  In this time of the service, we will focus on the other people we need to forgive. Maybe it is one name. Maybe it is many.  

In a moment, we will take a minute of silence to let God speak to us.  

O God, who is it we need to forgive?  Show us their face. Tell us their name.  Who is it who needs our forgiveness?  (Hold the silence for a minute.  It may feel like forever, but it is important to give God time to speak).  

God invites us to forgive.  It doesn’t mean forgetting. It doesn’t mean condoning what was done. It doesn’t mean we have to reconcile and be in relationship again.  It means we let go of the weight and burden of the anger, resentment, bitterness, and hurt that we carry around because of what happened.  You’re invited to forgive—to let go of your anger, hurt, and resentment toward the person on your mind.  

2 corinthians 5:17 tells us “So if anyone is in Christ, there is a new creation: everything old has passed away; see, everything has become new!”  That means, if we have Christ in our hearts, we are made new.  The old stuff…the waste that we often carry around, will be cleaned up if we let it go.  Will you let go today?  Let us pray: 

Prayer: O God, forgiveness isn’t easy.  We’re afraid that if we forgive we might be vulnerable to be hurt again.  Help us to see your will for us. Help us to know how good it will feel to be free from these burdens. Help us to give these people and situations over to you, so that we might be truly free.  Help us to let go. In Jesus’ name, amen. 

Hymn (or Anthem): Forgive Our Sins As We Forgive #390

Forgiving Yourself

Though we’ve done the work of forgiving others, there is still more forgiveness to be found.  During this part of the service, we will focus on forgiving ourselves.  Many of us have messed up. We’ve hurt others.  We’ve hurt ourselves.  We’ve been selfish.  We’ve been hard-hearted.  We’ve been greedy.  We’ve been tempted.  And for those things we bear the weight of shame, disappointment and unforgiveness.  

But the Word tells us that forgiveness is offered to us.  1 John 1:9 says, “But if we confess our sins to him, he is faithful and just to forgive us our sins and to cleanse us from all wickedness.”

A large part of forgiveness for ourselves is confession. We have to acknowledge we’ve done something sinful and wrong before we can or will ask for forgiveness.  So, in these moments, we are invited to confess our sins to God.  Be honest. I promise you won’t surprise God with what you say. But it is still necessary to identify that which is breaking our hearts.  Let us now confess to the Lord. 

(Allow for one minute of silence. Again, it may feel like a long time, but it important to create this space).  

Let us pray: 

Collective Prayer: Lord God, we’ve failed.  We’ve sinned. We’ve been hurtful.  And many of us feel like what we’ve done is far too awful to ever merit forgiveness. But you tell us it’s not about what we do, but about what you do.  So, we place our trust in you and your work on the cross.  Forgive us now as we’ve confessed our sins.  Free us from ourselves and from the weight of the past.  Give us strength and courage to walk forward in grace. Through Jesus Christ our Lord, amen. 

Hymn: Grace Greater Than Our Sin #365 (1, 2, 4)

Forgiving God

Having forgiven others, and forgiven ourselves, there is one more in need of forgiveness: God.  Supposedly our relationship with God should just be “good”. But we know better than that.  A lot of us believe God has inflicted illness, allowed bad things to happen, or failed to answer our prayers.  We struggle with the goodness of God.  It’s hard to trust with all our heart when things don’t always make sense.  

I wish I could offer you all the right answers to clear things up as far as God is concerned, but that’s not a thing any of us could properly do.  What I am here to do is encourage us to forgive God—for the things God has done (or seemingly done), and the things God has failed to do (or seemingly failed to do).  Many of us are holding onto a lot of anger, hurt, and resentment toward God and today we are invited to let go.  And maybe in letting God, we will feel some healing and restoration.  

In the following moments of silence, we ask that the Spirit would show us the things we’ve been holding against God.  Spirit of God, speak to us now: (hold silence for a minute).  

Let us pray:

Prayer: God, our hearts are heavy with the failures we see in our relationship with you.  We know we need you and we want to trust you.  So, today, we turn over our anger, hurt and resentment with the hope that we will be freed for greater faith.  Help us to see you at work in our midst. Help us to hear you speaking truth into our hearts. Through Christ our Lord.  Amen. 

Hymn: Leave It There #522 (1, 2, 3)

Final Thought: Forgiveness is important, and sometimes difficult, work.  As people of faith, we are called to do it 7 times 70 times…for each person.  Again, that doesn’t necessarily mean returning to an unhealthy relationship.  Pure and simply, forgiveness is letting go of the anger, hurt and resentment we harbor.  Hopefully, today has allowed us to take some steps, if only initial steps in some cases, toward forgiveness.  And may those steps shine a light in our hearts and free us for greater love and hope in our lives.  

Please join me now in the benediction:

Benediction: May our hearts be lighter as we leave this place and may we feel the blessing of God’s gifts of grace and forgiveness.  May God continue to move and speak throughout the week in a way that transforms and gives life to each of us. Amen. 

Sue Camphouse Eulogy

They say everyone has a crazy aunt. I don’t know if every family actually has one, but I do know that my family has one.  Only, I don’t have a crazy aunt, because the crazy aunt in our family happened to be my mother.  Now, if you don’t know me or don’t know us very well, please know I say that with the utmost love and respect, really I do.  She was crazy in that she was wild and gregarious and did things that made all the sense in the world to her but were often silly or zany or a little bit crazy.

As a child and a teen I often rolled my eyes at her crazy ways. But I will tell you those crazy things are some of the most memorable things about her.  She was spirited and full of life.  I don’t know that there was a Spirit Friday at Home Street Middle School where she didn’t wear red and white.  She always donned the school colors from her scrunchy, to her earrings, to her shirt, to her pants, to her shoes, and her socks.  Everything was red and white.   *and her zany ways made a big imprint on my memories and fill my heart with love as I mourn her absence.  

Truth be told, if you haven’t already guessed it,  she was a free-spirit stuck in straight-laced world.  My mom was creative to the n-th degree.  She could find a purpose for pretty much anything…from peach pits in advent wreaths, to pill bottles for jewelry or camp affirmations, or most anything…those little orange bottles come in awfully handy, there’s about 1000 and 1 uses for them, to shreds of fabric for a baby blanket.  

She was thoughtful and bright and she could brainstorm most any issue and offer at least a dozen options for solutions.  And she was both wildly creative and incredibly educated when it came to parenting and to teaching.  She could approach a student, or one of the three of us to diffuse most any tantrum, or argument or trial.  From choosing to walk, skip, run, jump, or crawl from the house to the car if that was an issue, to various ways to draw a picture, or complete a project.  I remember in 6th grade, I was in Mr McGuire’s class and we were working our polyhedraville math project.  We needed trees. So I called my mom and asked for trees. Now, I don’t know what you might have thought of, maybe a magazine clipping or maybe you would have had us draw them.  Sue Camphouse brought brocolli.  My mom thought outside the box…it’s part of what made her crazy. She could surprise you with her ideas, or questions, or outlandish requests.  

Honestly, I could share a lot about my mom. She was truly remarkable, but I think the thing that is most inspiring is how she valued people.  Everyone was important and valuable and worthy. There was no one worth giving up on. I remember when I worked with the youth here at the church in the summer of 2000, Kaitlyn Orr was sharing a testimony and she referred to “bad people”.  That was when we had two services, so between services my mom talked to me and then to Kaitlyn to clarify that “there are no bad people, only bad actions.”  She truly saw and believed the best about people. She taught me to “look over the other person’s shoulder” to see where they were coming from.  She taught me to love like Christ in a way no other ever has.  She was a woman of tremendous faith. Please don't think she was just “a good person”. She was who she was because of her faith and I learned faith from her. I learned how to pray. I learned how to pray over the phone. I learned to study the Bible. And I learned how to love people. 

She wanted me to look beyond the present moment or problematic action and see where they were coming from, to understand them and have greater compassion toward them. She loved being with people, caring for them, cooking for them, gifting them things….she was truly a people person.  And she had a remarkable gift of empathy.  She could feel for another person in ways I could only dream of.  The morning after Dwight and Josh Heslep were killed, she went down to Back Street Parlor to answer questions and answer phones so Shelley and DeAnn wouldn’t have to.  She anticipated what would be needed and helpful before most others even considered it.  

Today I am filled with gratitude for who she was as a mother, a friend, and as a person. I am grateful for who she was to each of you and for how your relationship with her has nurtured and enriched my own life and experience.  

*Italics indicate I initial wrote this portion but left it out during the service, either  because of memory, timing, or flow.

**this is the written manuscript, which I followed loosely. I tried to add back in the pieces I added, but it is not a verbatim account of what I said.