Friday, August 21, 2015

Naming It: Presumptions and Answers

To describe writing as a skill, forte, spiritual gift, hobby, or even an over-all general interest of mine would be the definition of exaggeration.  In fact, to be blunt, I don't much enjoy the task or process at all.  Articulating my thoughts or opinions within the context of proper grammar and syntax is not something I am particularly good at, and I have no doubt my high school English teacher Ms. Parsons would agree.

Coupled with my disdain for the process and practice of pen to paper, I hold very little interest for the task of reading either.  Reading, either as hobby or pedagogical necessity, seldom makes it to the top of my to-do list.  I could blog on and on about the over-used excuses or reasons for disliking literary arts (i.e. being forced to read uninteresting material in school), but that seems petty.  Why not save time by naming a thing for what it is rather than seeking hypothetical, or even realistic, reasons to justify my preferences?

Done.  I don't like to read.  Or write.

I can only assume the readers of this blog who know me will be nodding their head in agreement. That being said, for those who don't know me, I hope your interest is peaked, at least a little, and that you'll read on.

Now, allow me to be presumptuous:

If you don't like to read or write, then why the hell are you blogging?
It's a fair question. It really is.  I understand the curiosity and confusion behind practicing something I described as unenjoyable.  After all, it seems illogical and asinine to blatantly say "I don't like..." and then do it.  But when we're honest with ourselves, aren't we consumed with "I don't like....but watch me do it anyways" decisions.

For example, I don't like brussels sprouts or sauerkraut, but I'm willing to try them.  I don't like doing laundry, yet every week it seems I rinse and repeat the mundane process of cleaning my clothes.  I don't like to shave, but I do it.  I don't enjoy putting away the dishes, yet they seem to always return to their designate place.  Of course these are trite examples of necessary everyday tasks that must be completed.  And perhaps there is a significant difference between doing something that has to be done, and doing something out of choice, but I think every task (necessary or not) results with a similar outcome - a feeling of accomplishment.

I think I'm rambling.  The truth is, it's a great question, and I am still figuring out a perfect answer. The more I reflect on it, the more confident I am that the answer won't come in one sassy blog post. I think the answer will present itself sometime in the future as I continue (crossing my fingers) to blog.

As for now, in an attempt to fulfill the cultural need for instant gratification, I present you with three preliminary reasons for blogging:

  1. Discipline.  I'll even go so far as to say a spiritual discipline.  Blogging regularly will take discipline.  Here is my first confession: I created this blog on June 17, 2015.  I didn't publish my first post until today, July 24, 2015.  It took me a month to complete one blog post.  I think there are any number of reasons as to why it took so long, the first of which is likely procrastination, but I hope to flesh them out through posts in the coming weeks/months.
  2. Practice.  I know a lot of pastors who regularly post blogs and sermons, and with today's social media it is becoming a popular form of communication and reflection.  Specifically, one of my pastoral mentors recently took a new call, and as part of her call papers, the committee required that she post weekly blogs and reflections.  This was something she has not previously done, and I remember her sharing with me her struggles in beginning a new practice 15 years into ministry.  So, this blog is also for you, future call committee, who may one day ask me to blog about my experiences and reflect on the life of the congregation.
  3. Growth - Personal and Professional.  I'm not too naive to know that writing your thoughts daily, or reflecting in more ways than just silence is a healthy thing to do (shout out to my CPE supervisor).  I learned quickly in CPE (although I argued that I was very self aware to begin with) that there are more thoughts and memories, experiences and observations inside my head than I can contain for myself.  Sharing them is healthy.  Talking about the person who pissed me off on the train or the heart wrenching story of the homeless woman I met is healthy to share.  Writing about the joys and (seldom) struggles of my marriage or the adventures we take is a good thing to do.  Articulating the experiences of my life, both good and bad will undoubtedly provide growth.  Finally, as a future pastor, part of my job is to help connect our stories with God's stories.  If I can't do that for myself first, then what does that say about my ability to fulfill my call.
These are the three answers/reasons for blogging that are currently on my mind.  One day I'll look back and say, "Wow I was wrong," or "Looks like I still have some work to do."

Why should I follow your blog?  Why should I care?
The truth is, I don't know.  You each have your own reason for clicking on the link to see what I had to say.  Maybe you're a family member who feels obligate to follow along, a colleague waiting with anticipation for me to say something stupid, or someone who supports me.  Regardless of the reason, welcome.

I hope that your time spent reading my blog is worthwhile, but I have to be honest from the start and say that every post won't be written for your benefit.  If I am truly taking on this task of blogging for the purposes of personal, professional, and spiritual growth, then we can agree that this blog is not just for pure entertainment.

That being said, you're invited to follow for three reasons.

  1. Accompaniment.  For whatever reason you click on the blog link and started reading, you are a part of my story.  You may be directly by my side (Sarah) or far away, but you are a part of my story.  Growth doesn't always happen individually- after all, we are the body of Christ. The old phrase, "It takes a village" comes to mind.  I welcome your insights and reflections.  I encourage you to call me out and challenge me on things.  
  2. Accountability.  I need your help.  At the beginning of my internship in August 2014, I started journaling.  I was journaling steadily for about a month.  Then, all of a sudden, I stopped.  I don't know why.  I need help keeping myself accountable.  I want to see this through.  Even though I may be kicking and screaming, I am committed to this process.  I give you permission to call my bullshit, applaud my successes, name my failures, and ask me why I haven't written in a month.
  3. Adventure.  There is a lot happening in my life right now and it should be fun to follow along. I am a third year MDiv candidate for ordained ministry, I am getting married to the love of my life in 22 days, and We are traveling to Kuala Lumpur, Malaysia for a year in 30 days.  All of these adventures will help to shape this blog, and it should make for some good reads.

So there it is.  Naming something for what it is.

Daniel


Thursday, August 6, 2015

Love Oh So Well

I love you oh so well like a kid loves candy and fresh snow.
I love you oh so well enough to fill up heaven, overflow, and fill hell.
Love you oh so well.
On January 30, 2007 my mom died after a 4 year fight with kidney cancer.  Hands down, it was the worst day/night/week of my life.  There are so many unanswered questions about those four years, and I will forever be in pursuit of "why?"  I was 20 years old.  It sucked.  But this post is not meant to be a downer, it's meant to explain the title of my blog: Love Oh So Well.

Unconditionally.  My mom loved me unconditionally. There was never a doubt in my mind about how much my mom loved me, and there was no limit or measure of that love.  She did everything for my brother and me.   She drove me to and from school almost everyday.  She packed my lunch all through elementary school.  She volunteered for (more than her share of) class trips, outings, and parties.  Mom was always there for school events, PTO Meetings, book sales, and fundraisers.


One of my fondest memories of her showing her love was when I was in Mrs. Goforth's Kindergarten class.  I was obsessed with the circus and we were going on a class field trip to see Ringling Bros. Barnum and Bailey Circus, so she hand-made us ridiculous clown sweatshirts.  And instead of just letting me wear the loud clown shirt and look (what I now realize was dumb) awesome, she wore one too!   I still have that stupid-scary clown sweatshirt she made.

Beyond school she was so invested in my life. She supported all of my passions: theater, baseball, soccer, band, and scouts.   She drove me to and from every practice, concert, game, rehearsal, and meeting.   She made sure my uniform was washed, my bags were packed appropriately, my work was done, and my goals met.  I can't think of a single activity which she didn't support.  She loved loves me so much. Unconditionally.
 
One of my mom's favorite things in life was snow.  The most reliable source of a smile was a fresh snow fall.  Honestly, I don't know what initiated her love of snow, but I know without a doubt that she is the source of my own love for snow.  As much as snow, she loved snowmen.  She had an extensive collection of plush, porcelain, LED, and singing snowmen.  One of her favorite snowmen was a rock-n-roll snowmen, about 8 inches tall with a top hat and sunglasses, and when you pressed his belly he sang, I'm a snnnooowww man (Much like the Blues Brothers' I'm a soul man).

In 2013, a year into seminary, my dad and I were having a conversation about my mom.  The conversation was about both of us going through seminary to become pastors, and what mom would think.   Everything was going well until dad pulled the classic, "Well, you know what your mom told me before she died, don't ya?"  No, dad, I sure don't.  Dad then informed me that before mom died, she said I would go to seminary and become a pastor one day.  Well, if there wasn't enough pressure already.


Dave Matthews Band has a song called 'Oh'.  Dave wrote 'Oh' about his grandparents' love.  The verses juxtapose the chaotic cacophony of war, which Dave's grandfather experienced while fighting Rommel in North Africa, and the peaceful echos of his grandmother's voice in the old dusty home they once shared.  Years after she died, Dave's grandfather said that he could still feel the echo of his wife and her love in their house.  The lyrics declare that even in the hell of life, "you are here with me, (and that) makes it ok."  Invisible to the evils of the world, the chorus describes their innocent love like that of a "kid who loves candy and fresh snow."  Listen Here or a Live Version Here.

Anyone who knows me (somewhat well) knows that I love Dave Matthews Band.  They are my favorite band, and I think my mom would like them too.  The first time I heard the song 'Oh' was in college the year after my mom died.  I heard the line I love you oh so well like a kid loves candy and fresh snow and I was hooked.  Although the song speaks about the relationship of a husband and wife, it speaks more about love and love's ability to sing far beyond death.  Even Especially when the world sucks, love sings. Unconditional love sings.

My mom loved me and she is the motivation for almost everything I do.  I make a conscious effort to live every day to its fullest (although I often fail).  To be present in the monotonous things of life.  To sacrifice feeling dumb to help someone save face.  To care for those around me and help them get to where they're going.  To feed and nourish.  And most importantly, to love unconditionally.  To Love. To love oh so well, like a kid loves candy and fresh snow.