2021--A Year in Review

Many of us take time at the end of each year to look back, reflect, think over the good, the bad, the ugly. Today is December 28th and it's that time of the year.

Let's see. 2021. Somehow 2020 runs into 2021, but I will do my best to focus solely on 2021.

Clergy Convocation was online in February. The focus was on Sabbath rest.

My first residency for the Spiritual Direction program was online in April. They did a superb job of connecting us in worship, in sending us to our different groups, and bringing us back together for our sessions. 

I continued preaching solely online until Pentecost Sunday, May 23rd, on which we began our both/and services on in person and online worship.

Lots of hiking, bicycling, and walking allowed for outdoor time throughout the year.

Highlights of the year: 

*getting to know some of the community folks in St. Elmo through the "Sparkle St. Elmo" clean up day

*putting together a "Stations of the Cross" for St. Elmo UMC and community, using St. Elmo Ave. and the Virginia Greenway as the path

*an anniversary get-away in March

*my brother got married in April

*representing for PFLAG Athens in June at MooFest

*glamping in our friends' backyard in August

*getting to go to Chautauqua Institution over the summer to be chaplain at the Methodist House for a week. 

*preaching a series on faith and mental health, loosely based on my friend Steve's book, Hiding in the Pews. I say "loosely" because I picked four themes and Scriptures to go with them, and chose some quotes from the chapters to go along. 

*attending a 5 Day Academy in NC in October

*Trunk or Treat and goin all out with the Sponge Bob theme for my car

*attending an in-person residency for the Spiritual Direction program for the first time on the Columbia Theological Seminary campus in November

*offering an Advent study and preaching series from God Broke Through at Christmas

*participating in the St. Elmo Luminaria and Stroll by providing caroling and hot chocolate at St. Elmo UMC

*offering a 'come and go' Longest Night Service for people who wanted/needed time and space for quiet, reflection, and prayer

*Christmas Eve Candlelight Service

*spending lots of quality time with our "kids" when they were in town, cooking dinner together, eating outdoors at restaurants

*being able to see my parents at my home and at theirs

My writing this past year hasn't been as constant as I would like for it to have been. I haven't written any Haikus recently.  I need time, energy, and space to write. Most of my writing tends to be encouraging thoughts / posts on my Instagram/Facebook pages that are written during my morning quiet times.

My CEUs (continuing education units) have focused on how to do ministry during an ongoing pandemic, discipleship, enhancing ZOOM skills, Sabbath, doing creative ministry, etc.

There has been much loss in 2021. Loss of life primarily. I have walked with many as they said goodbye to their loved ones. Though that isn't an easy journey, it is a big part of my calling and one that is sacred. 

Walking with others, no matter their path, is a part of my calling that is life giving. Listening to others share their journey, asking questions, sharing my journey, allowing the Divine to meet us where we are-- all of it is sacred.

There is probably more that I'm not remembering about 2021. I'm doing this from my memories and that doesn't always cover everything.

Of course there is Cliff (our dog). And Charlie being home for both the summer and now Christmas vacation. Charlie home for the summer was a big part of our family cooking sessions and gatherings. 

As 2021 comes to a close and 2022 will begin sooner than later, I wonder what adventures are ahead. 

Whatever the adventures may be on the journey, I'm looking forward to sharing life with others and to making the best of whatever comes.

Peace to all as the new year comes, 

Rev. Deb

Some photos from 2021:

Shine Your Light

Yesterday I spent some time in the hammock resting. It was 70 something degrees Fahrenheit here in Tennessee. It would have been a great day to get into the woods, but I was too worn out from all the activity last week. Hammock time allowed me to rest and reflect.

From a week ago Sunday to yesterday, we had our regular Sunday service for Advent 4. I stayed at church all day preparing for the luminaria stroll in the community because we were offering caroling and hot chocolate. That was lots of fun. 

The luminary bags lit the pathway for the walkers on the Greenway and we enjoyed all those who joined us in singing and hot chocolate.

Then on Tuesday I had planned a Longest Night "come and go" service from 4:30-7:00 p.m., allowing people a time and space for lament, prayer, and silence. It turned out to be a special time and I am glad it came to be. 

We took a quick trip to Nashville to do an exchange at the airport of our kids-- one set leaving and another coming in. We were able to see some lights in Nashville.

Friday night was our Christmas Eve Candlelight Service with Cantata music. We were able to go outside to light our candles and sing "Silent Night" and "Joy to the World". It was a beautiful experience.

On Christmas Day evening we took a drive into a neighborhood that we had been told had great lights throughout. We weren't disappointed. I especially enjoyed the Grinch-themed decorations and the trees.

As I reflected on the past week of lights, services and the death of Archbishop Desmond Tutu, I wrote this: "One light can make a difference. Be that light. Allow your unique brightness to offer light for others until it is no more. Let us be lights for one another." I posted my reflective quote with this photo of mine from the candlelight service: 

Archbishop Desmond Tutu was a bright light. He shined truth, justice, and love into many places. His light will continue to shine as his words are shared and as his actions are remembered. That is how light continues to shine when people are gone. We remember them and their impact on us. One of the many quotes being shared upon his passing is this one: "Hope is being able to see that there is light despite all the darkness."

Who are the lights in your life that are no longer with you, yet they continue to shine because you remember their words and their actions? Name them. Give thanks for them. They have made a difference in your life. 

Who are the lights in your life that are still with you, shining a way in the darkness, offering you hope? Name them. Give thanks for them. They are making a difference in your life.

You, too, can be a light. I can be a light. Again, my quote from yesterday: "One light can make a difference. Be that light. Allow your unique brightness to offer light for others until it is no more. Let us be lights for one another."

Shine your light!

Rev. Deb

Refiner's Fire / Sancti-fire

April 9, 2016 firepit DD

This morning I listened to the Advent devotional hosted by the Sound District of the North Carolina Conference  and Jon the Methodist. At the end, there was a statement that caught my attention (paraphrased): 'the deepest thing within us is not sin, as some would have us believe, but rather the image of the Divine, the Creator. And that is the what the Refiner continues to work to reveal.'

Pause. The Refiner is working to reveal the image of the Divine that is deep within us. Soak that in.  Breathe it. 

The song "Refiner's Fire" was played.

I have been chewing on these thoughts as well as some others. It is an ongoing journey to be me, to become me, to live into who and whose I am. And, to do so with love and acceptance. The sign says, "love and acceptance practiced here". 

Yet, I tend to practice it better for others. However, if I cannot practice it for myself, then I cannot do so for others. I know that. I teach that. I don't always get it right. It is what it is. I recognize it and move forward with the recognition and knowledge. 

With all those thoughts swimming around in my mind, I read these precious words by Carol Collier:

"Death has come for someone who showed me great kindness when Suzanne died.

This woman knew a certain hell on earth and was an overcomer. Her hell did not strip her of her kind and generous heart. 

Again, I weep. 

I am no stranger to death. It has come into my house and stolen from me. 

It has taken the young, and the old, and the in-between people who have graced my life. 

Too many, too soon. 

My heart has been tendered by death and sorrow is a companion of mine. Death has not made me hard and cold. 

It is a warm fire that draws me close and makes me more open to its light.

How? How is it that the horror of death would be a light in my life?

I chose not to turn away or hide in a holy huddle. I chose not to bypass with a spirituality that does not make space for lament. 

Funerals are not happy-clappy parties. 

Death is a sancti-fire. It burns away self-centered ness, self-reliance, self-sufficiency, self-exaltation. 

It leaves you face down on the ground anguished in body and soul. 

I think about a Christianity that is rooted in the Sermon on the Mount. The blessed ones are those who mourn, who are poor, who are meek, who are hungry for things to be made right. 

Things to be made right. No more death. No more suffering. No more hell on earth. 

This is not a Christianity of wealth and power and might. You know, an Americanized Christianity. 

It is a Christianity that identifies with Jesus who came for the poor, the captives, the blind and the oppressed. 

Death is the most honest thing in life. 

And, as a Christian, it is the place where I come into the most intimate times with Christ Jesus. 

I am disrobed of all my pretense in the loving presence of my Savior. 

One day all will be made right. 

As we wait, may we be sanctified by our grief. May we be more meek and merciful. May we lay down our weapons and walk in the likeness of Christ."

Wow. Beautiful. Powerful. Words from the depths. 

The word "sancti-fire" caught my attention. "Death is a sancti-fire"."  Pause. No, hard stop. Breathe in the fullness of that statement. Death is a holy fire, a refiner's fire.

Carol continues: "It burns away self-centered ness, self-reliance, self-sufficiency, self-exaltation."

The sancti-fire of death burns away dross that keeps us from living our fullest, as we are created to be, in the image of the Creator. 

Oh, there are other things that burn this dross away, true. Death comes not only in physical loss of loved ones,  but in many forms. Yet this eloquently written piece captured my attention and connected me with the earlier message I had heard.

This season of Advent, this season of waiting and lament, is not to be rushed through or ignored. It offers many gifts, if we have eyes to see and ears to hear.

May it be so.

Rev. Deb

P.S. if you are needing or wanting space and time for reflection this Advent season, I encourage you to find a Longest Night/Blue Christmas service online or in person.  Many are held on December 21st, the longest night of the year.  I created a document for our 'come and go ' time at St. Elmo UMC that offers reflective readings. I will post that in a separate post.