Where do we go from here?

Tomorrow is it.

The day I have been dreading since last year when my small congregation made the decision that 2015 would be the last year our church doors would stay open.  A firm date wasn't chosen until this spring and that date is now tomorrow.  It seemed so far away when we talked.....

It wasn't.
It isn't.....

October 25, 2015

In the Lutheran Church, this year October 25th is celebrated as Reformation Day.  For those of you (like me - a little Methodist girl) who didn't learn the significance of Reformation Day, I'll outline it quickly for you.

Martin Luther, born to a Roman Catholic family, became an Augustinian monk and was ordained to the priesthood in 1507.  While studying theology at the University of Wittenberg, he found the theology teachings began to clash with the teachings of the Catholic church.  He wrote that salvation came not by any human work, but by absolute faith in God's promise of forgiveness because of Jesus Christ. In 1517, he nailed a document - known as the 95 Theses - to the church door at Wittenburg and thus started the Protestant Reformation.

We chose to close our doors on Reformation Sunday....

I went to my church this morning, to drop off the mail in Pastor's office. I noticed the sunlight coming in from the windows, falling across the honey-colored paneling.  I opened doors to old classrooms that have been empty of children learning about the Trinity for more years than I'd like to say.  I walked the hallway back towards the sanctuary, each footfall bring me closer to the end of an era.

I stood in front of the alter.



Head bowed. Tears flowing.

Memories of my children being confirmed, my in-laws being married, the singing for funerals, the multiple times of taking communion came washing over me.

In my ear I heard, "Jesus wept."

I turned and my hands gently touched each pew as I walked toward "our pew".  I turned in the last pew (yes, it's a Lutheran thing to sit at the very back) and sat.  Not on the end - that's Robie's spot, but one space in - my spot.

I sat and took in the entire chancel.  From the cross and the candlesticks on the alter; the large Bible that sits just off center, to the two chancel chairs where past Pastors and guest Pastors have sat, to the pulpit where it seemed most Sundays that Pastor was talking directly to my heart.



The pew....

The pew where my children bickered between themselves and got "the look" from me and would quiet down.  The pew that has held my family as my son grew tall enough that his knees now touch the pew in front of us, whereas it seems just like yesterday, his feet barely touched the outdated, gold-flecked carpeting of the floor. The pew where I held my husband's hand, even though we might have argued just that morning over running late because of missing shoes or ties, because we were in God's house and we needed that reminder of love.

More tears.

I finally got up and walked down the few stairs, past the members' mail-boxes, the sign up sheets for ushering, communion, and alter flower duties with November and December crossed off, and I paused at the doors.


  I said a prayer for those of us "homeless" after Sunday.



As I locked the doors, I thought about Martin Luther and his 95 Theses.  I thought about the changes of the church and the world in the last 498 years since that fateful day in 1517.  I thought about the changes in our own church.

I prayed and wondered where we'll go from here...

"Good Grief, Charlie Brown!"

When I was younger, one of my favorite comic strips was Peanuts.  I even wrote to, and received a letter (that I'm sure is in a box somewhere because I don't throw ANYTHING away) back from Charles Schultz.

My holiday television pleasures were watching the gang deal with the Great Pumpkin, and A Charlie Brown Christmas.  The exasperation Lucy had with Charlie Brown over his handling or lack of handling situations, could always make me smile.  Sometimes I'm a lot like Lucy.

Shocking, right?!?!?  ;)

As I've aged and experienced life more, I've gone from the exclamation such as Lucy used, to the noun form of the word.

Grief.   (Greef)

NOUN

1.

keen mental suffering or distress over affliction or loss; sharp sorrow; painful regret.

2.

a cause or occasion of keen distress or sorrow.

IDIOMS

3.

come to grief to suffer disappointment, misfortune, or other trouble; fail: Their marriage came

 to grief after only two years.

4.

good grief (used as an exclamation of dismay, surprise, or relief): Good grief, it's started 

to rain again!

The church I am a member of is closing.  This is not news to any of you reading this.  Financially it's just not feasible to keep the doors open with only 12 attending members on a "good" Sunday.

Some months ago, the congregation met with our district president to find out what the process is to go about "decommissioning" a church.  After discussing the legalities, Pastor Paul wanted us to know we'd all probably go through the five stages of grief.  I was already in tears at this point, so it made sense to me that this would happen.  What I didn't realize is that I'd get stuck in one of the stages - or potentially do them out of order.

The stages of grief are: Denial, Anger, Bargaining, Depression, & Acceptance.

I blew right through denial, bargaining, and acceptance.  It's inevitable that we'll close.  Although my God can perform miracles, I don't believe keeping our doors open is one of them that warrants His time and attention.  Depression was a little more tricky for me.  I waiver between that one and anger.

But I am currently stuck in anger.  I AM VERY ANGRY....

I can list off a litany of things I'm angry about. (Funny, how the word litany came to mind - its' origin comes from the church.)   I'm not going to detail what I'm angry about because the list is between me and my Lord - and the Holy Spirit has been working diligently on my hardening heart.

The point is that this is the stage in which I am stuck.

This morning, in the quiet, pre-dawn moments of waking, when the house and my mind were both quiet, I was able to hear the Holy Spirit minister to my weary, angry self.   The words spoken on my heart were these:

Rita, Jesus's earthly father was a carpenter.  His hands were rough and calloused from years of work. Times when wood or fasteners created blisters that broke open and became wounds, only then to form harder skin over the area in which to protect it from further damage and/or create a scar in which Joseph was reminded of the fruits of his labors.  

You also form callouses in your life.  Your skin hardens a little bit after being hurt, so too, does your heart.   You can continue to let them harden or you can apply a balm to soften them.  You'll still see the fruits of your labors, but in a different Light.  The balm is His word and your faith.  Use the balm.

I didn't want to go to church today.  The anger was too great and too raw.  I feared Pastor would see it in my face and on my heart.

I went.

I listened, sat convicted, but then let the balm begin to work.

I'm still angry - I'm flawed and human.....but my heart is softening a bit more.

I have five more Sunday opportunities to sit in my church before the doors close.  I have two months in which to daily apply the balm.

I may not like this phase of grief I'm in.  It may take more time that I'd like, but I am absolutely certain this phase is the one that He will use to teach me the most.

What scares you?

I was a business woman, a mother of two young children, with a husband who was on the road as a salesman 3 days out of 4.  My closest family was a three & a half hour drive away.  I was hanging on.... keeping it all together.....

until....

That darn "C" word hit again.  Cancer.  In a matter of months I had lost four loved ones to the disease and a few more were diagnosed.  It was more than I could take.  I was cracking....

I called an old friend and asked her for a reference to a good Christian therapist in the Des Moines area.   Never did I think I would be sitting on a couch...never in a million years.  I was the one who helped...not the one who needed help.

His name was Dr. Dilly - and I met with him twice.  The first visit I sat on his couch with a box of kleenex and bawled like a baby for what seemed like an eternity.  I was embarrassed, shocked, and relieved all at the same time.  Talk about a wide range of emotions in a short period of time... Once I composed myself he asked me some tough questions.

The toughest question?

Name three things that scare you.

It turned out to be the easiest one to answer and the words came tumbling out rapidly...

1.) Confrontation
2.) Rejection
3.) Cancer

WOW!  I remember sitting there watching his reaction.  He was very calm as he looked down at my initial interview sheet I had filled out prior to our meeting.  Then he looked at me, shook his head, and with sincerity and a bit of humor in his voice said, "And you sell real estate for a living?".   I think I started laughing hysterically at this point....that laughter that leads to crying, and snorting, and more kleenex to wipe up the mess.

WOW!

I was in sales where, on any given day, I got to be a financial counselor, a marriage counselor, a babysitter, and sometimes, just a Realtor.  Talk about confrontation and rejection!

After my second meeting with Dr. D., I learned what my stressors were, how to effectively deal with them to keep my sanity, and I learned that I am not alone....ever....  and I'm human.  A sinner, an imperfect person with high aspirations of perfection that I'll never achieve.

Now don't get me wrong - I'll stand up for myself six days out of seven, but open confrontation isn't something I look for during my day.  I prefer to be the peace-maker.  There's always a way to resolve issues if you just take a breath and step back for a second.  Sometimes the only way is to agree to disagree - and that's okay.  I've evolved over the years....

I've made the choice to be a peace-maker for most of my adult life.  I've learned that throwing a fit doesn't solve anything except release anger that usually makes someone else feel like crap, and well, after that happens, I feel even worse.

Maybe it's because I'm married....

Maybe it's because I'm a mom....

Maybe it's because I'm a woman....

Maybe it's because I'm a Christian...


and just maybe it's because I am all of them.

I think Dr. Dilly would be proud of my progress.  I think he would laugh that I went from the frying pan into the fire - so to speak - being a business owner now, but I'm sure he would be proud.

Regardless, I still have those three fears...  The biggest difference now?

Those three fears don't have me anymore.

A Mississippi Man of God... and a little girl from NW Iowa...

 

I grew up in an old white church.

 

The outside was white, the inside was white, and the congregation was....well, white. 

 

My favorite minister of that Methodist Church was Reverend Nicholson.  He was originally from Mississippi (not at all, all white) and served our NW Iowa church in the late 70's and early 80's.  He had the most amazing sounding voice to this little girl who hung on his every word.... 

 

That southern drawl, mixed with a little, strike that, A LOT of southern sass, and God's love held my attention for many years. 

 

That voice cut through a fog I was in the other day while I was feeling pretty low. I heard his voice as clearly as if I was sitting in the same pew wearing my Sunday dress and Mary-Jane's in 1978.

 

I heard his voice saying the benediction he said every Sunday that I can remember - it goes a little like this (You can imagine the drawl):  And now, unto Him, who is able to keep you from falling; and to present you faultless before His throne of Glory.  To Him be dominion and power both now and forever more. Amen. 

 

Those words.... they comforted me for more years than I can tell you, but the other day?  Well, the other day they actually sunk in to me - to the very core, and tapped on that little girl's heart that still beats in a 44 year old woman's body. 

 

I know they come from the book of Jude 1:24-25 -  The King James version:  Now unto him that is able to keep you from falling, and to present you faultless before the presence of his glory with exceeding joy, to the only wise God our Saviour, be glory and majesty, dominion and power, both now and ever. Amen

 

That voice....

That voice and the twinkling eyes that went along with it and the smile. 

Able to keep you from falling...

Man, it feels like I've done a lot of falling since I first heard those words.  Stresses of family - feeling like I've failed as a wife and mother.  Stresses of work and finances, bad decisions, indecisions, you name it, I've felt it.  Felt like I couldn't stop falling, yet HE is able to keep me from falling....

Faultless.... present ME faultless? 

I'm a fan of the Mr. Clean Magic Eraser....I mean, I've raised kids, right?!?  That little tool is amazing at making marks disappear.  Color on the wall?  Poof!  Gone.  Football helmet needs to be shined up? Poof!  Good as new. 

Now I'm not saying being presented faultless before God is like a magic eraser, but maybe there IS a bit of a comparison there....   That horrible decision I made that made me lose sleep?  Give it to Jesus.  Poof!  It's gone.   Cleansed, and able to be presented faultless....

To Him be Glory....  YOU BET!  

I went to the good old web and found Rev. Nicholson's obituary.... you see, he died in 2009 - on Christmas Day.  Pretty cool for a minister.  I found out some interesting things about this man whose voice is written on my heart.... things that I wanted to share with you. Things that a young girl from conservative northwest Iowa didn't have a clue about back in the day.  Things that make my heart smile knowing that the same man that did amazing work in Mississippi, did amazing work in me.

James B, Nicholson, 86, a retired United Methodist minister and one of the original 28 United Methodist ministers in Mississippi who signed the document "Born of Conviction", taking a stand against racism, went to his Heavenly home on Christmas Day.

In January 1963, Rev. Nicholson, along with the 27 other clergy, drafted, signed and published a document titled "Born of Conviction" which helped fuel the civil rights movement that began to take place in Mississippi. At that time they faced wide criticism for their actions; "some were ousted from their congregation and faced death threats, some left freely, and some stayed and fought". The Mississippi United Methodist Annual Conference publicly welcomed twenty of the remaining members of the group in 2005 honoring them and the changes made in the United Methodist Church in the last four decades.

Rev. Nicholson or "Big Daddy" as he was fondly called, shared his love of the outdoors and was instrumental in the Iowa United Methodist camping program as he helped develop many adventure camps for the Iowa Conference during the 70s and 80s. He had a spiritual impact on hundreds of Iowa youth as they fished and canoed through the Canadian waters learning about love and faith through Jesus Christ.


I'll say he had a HUGE impact on me during the 70's and 80's - enough so, that 30 years later his words still comfort me.  

Hopefully, they can comfort you.

One last thing.... every so often he had an extra tid-bit of information that in his words, "I just threw that in for nothin'.  Won't cost you a penny."  So in that spirit, here's a picture of the man who shaped my early faith and still speaks to me when I need to be reminded that yes, HE will keep me from falling into the depths of despair and depression, and yes, HE will present me faultless before the throne of Glory.

 Until we meet again at the great banquet....