A post about jello

My mother cannot make jello.  She can make a flourless chocolate cake that will blow your mind, amazing chili, fabulous enchiladas and rolls that melt in your mouth.  I told her the other night that she has ruined applesauce...because I will never be able to buy it in the store again.  My godsons will go through a jar of her homemade jam in a morning if they are left alone with the jar.  My Mother, though, cannot make jello.  It's a mystery.  One day years (and years and years and years) from now I will put the following on her headstone--"a great wife, mom, grandma, friend and cook but could not make jello.  That darn jello just would not jell".

Okay, maybe I exaggerate a little...about the headstone.  I don't hold it against Mom that her jello won't jell.  It's become a joke but I hope she knows we just like to joke with her about her jello.  We don't mean anything by it. She's fabulous at so much more, the non-jelling jello is doesn't even matter.

Besides cooking, my Mother is an amazing quilter, has the ability to make small talk with just about anyone and was an excellent Youth Director's Mom.  She went on many youth trips and they all loved her.  She could walk into a room on youth group night and the kids would rush her for hugs.  That is an inherent gift.

We all have talents and gifts, things that we are inherently good at and things we have worked really hard to become good at.  There are times, though, when we lose sight of the things we are good at and just focus on the things we struggle with, the talents and gifts that don't come naturally, that take a lot out of us and the things we berate ourselves for in the middle of the night when we wake up from a sound sleep to stare into the darkness for hours.

 I've had a few of those nights in the last 11 months.  Nights when I woke up and knew I had messed something up, really bad, and dreaded going into work.  There was one week where I worked myself up so much, I had a full blown panic attack on the way to work.  I used a cultivated talent to figure out it was a panic attack...I looked it up on the internet.  :)

Working outside of my gifting and natural talents isn't so much a bad thing.  There are days when I definitely feel stretched beyond my limits and I am quick to point out when I don't feel secure with something.  But those moments when I work within my gifting and talents, those moments are priceless.  Unfortunately, I don't wake up in the middle of the night thinking about the worship service that flowed so smoothly because I operated out of what I knew and with the talent I've been given and didn't worry about anything.  No, I wake up worrying about things that do not come easy, things I work hard to perfect and things that I spend time berating myself not being good at.  This is my humanity.

Today, I pulled out my recipe book and began the process of making a King Cake.  I love to bake and tackling a yeasty King Cake is a fun challenge.  I get a little nervous using yeast but there were four extra packets so if packet one didn't work I would try again.  The yeast bloomed, the mixture came together and soon I was kneading the dough.  For 10 minutes I pushed and pulled and used a lot of wrist and forearm to smooth out the dough.  As I write, the dough is rising, I hope, and soon I will form and fill the cake and let it rise again. I have no control over the rising process.  I just sit back and wait, hoping the skills I am perfecting have done the work needed for a successful outcome.

As I was kneading the dough I started talking to God.  I started with words that are familiar to our conversations and moved into unexplored territory.  The words stopped flowing when I said aloud that which has been niggling at the back of my conscious...words reminding me of the gifts and talents I have that have been pushed to the background while I try to, well, make jello.  It's just not jelling.

My revelation for today isn't new, it's a reminder of who I am, of who God created me to be and is a piece of the puzzle I am working at putting together on this journey...somewhere down the road.

A post from the desert

A wise friend said recently, "Brittany, you've been wandering in the desert for a long time and it seems to me that you keep trying to return to Egypt."

CRAP.

Today the new Pastor spoke about the Israelites traveling through the desert and how God provided manna (bread) for them EVERY DAY while they wandered in the desert.

CRAP.


There is truth to what my wise friend said (don't tell him I called him that, okay?  He'll get a big head)...there is a part of me that longs to return to Egypt.

There is truth to the what the Pastor said...God is providing manna for me EVERY DAY as I wander in the desert.

So, y'all, will you pray for me to:

A.) let go of Egypt
B.) remember that God is providing
C.) be open to whatever is next?

Because my fears are definitely ruling my judgement and my eyes have been blinded but are beginning to clear and the numb lump of something that has been my heart is beginning to feel again.

This growing up stuff is hard.

When all you can do is pray

I have been feeling a little disconnected and numb from the latest cycle horror...until today and a post from a RevGal on Facebook.  Her simple prayer request:  "Please pray for my friend M who will be participating in 5 (so far) of the memorial services this week."  That's when the prayers started flowing.

Praying for the families.  For the teachers.  For the school and district administration   For the survivors.  For the first responders.  For the town.  For the country.  For the pastors.  For the children's directors/pastors.  For the youth directors/pastors.  For the counselors.  For the church administrative assistants.  For the funeral parlors.  For the organists, pianists and soloists.  Just simply praying because right now, that's all I can do.

A post in which I am thankful

I have a job.

I have a car that runs.

I can take public transportation to work.

I have a family that loves me.

I have parents that enable me...or let me live with them, you choose.

I have friends.

I have really good friends.

I have food to eat.

I have clothes to wear.

I have shoes.

I have a lot.

I am thankful.

I am thankful that I live in a country where I can:

Vote.

Speak in public.

Go to church...if I choose.

Travel with few restrictions.

I am thankful that I have been empowered by people within the church to:

Teach men, women and children alike.

Speak freely and openly about my faith journey.

Read scripture.

Sit in the front row...though I usually choose to sit in the back.

Stand in front of the church and share my thoughts, feelings and interpretation of scripture.

Walk through the doors and join others in worship and life even when I'm "not clean"...though sometimes I should just keep my grumpy b-u-t-t at home.

I am thankful for all of this and so much more.

What are you thankful for?

A post about change

Yesterday I went to the Post Office.  I parked my car and got out and there on the ground was a dime.  I normally would leave pennies on the ground but a dime seemed significant.  I picked it up and pocketed it.  Someday soon it will go into the soda machine at work.  This is not a post about that kind of change.

This is a post about change that happens in life.  Tonight, I stood at the sink in my purposely darkened house looking out over the neighborhood where I grew up thinking about how the neighborhood has changed.  It's Halloween. When I was a kid this neighborhood my Mom would throw a Halloween party and our friends would come over for nachos and beer...the beer was for the Dad's who would take all of us kids around the neighborhood and drive us over into other neighborhoods and over to Grandma and Boompa's and Grandma Catherine's house.  The lady across the street gave out dimes.  The people in the house down the hill gave out full size candy bars. We would walk up and down the hills, passing by all the other kids in the neighborhood and having a great time.  Tonight, as I looked out over the neighborhood I noticed that most of the homes were dark.  There aren't that many kids in the neighborhood anymore.  This change isn't good or bad, it's just different.

A couple of weeks ago, a friend got married.  I was blessed to be the officiant at the ceremony and spent some time thinking about how her life has changed in two seemingly short but kinda long years.  Some of the changes were unexpected, many of them were difficult but as I stood there looking at her on her wedding day, I knew this change was good.

I spent some time reflecting, this last weekend, over the last year of my life.  I've said goodbye to some friends, hello to new friends.  Goodbye to an old job, hello to a new job.  I've done a lot of soul searching and still feel lost.  I've felt myself slipping further and further away from what is called "Christianity" today and further away from the churches around me.  There are some changes that have been good...some changes that have been tough...some changes that were just different.

Through it all, I know that change means growth.  Change can mean the death of one thing so that something new can grow.  Change means what I've taken for granted becomes apparent and the things I fear become vividly clear.  Change means there will be times to mourn and times to rejoice.  I can fight it or embrace it or ignore it but one way or another change will happen. 

I'm looking out over the neighborhood tonight seeing a whole lotta change.

A post about hiding

Do you ever have moments where you just want to hide?  I was going to write "hide under a rock" but that statement doesn't really make sense.  There is no hiding under a rock for this girl...I would be seen.

I have favorite places to hide.  My room is one.  It does kind of resemble a cave at times, especially at this time of the year when the light is harder to find and the cool air streams through the window.  It's one of my favorite hiding places.

I like to hide in Tahoe.  I've found a couple of places, close to the water where I can hear the waves lapping against the rocks, with some sun and some shade.  They aren't the most comfortable places unless I bring my own chair but they are calming, quieting, places where I can find God.

I've found a new place to hide.  A place to be in the same building, worshiping with people but a place where I can hide just the same.  It's in the balcony.  High up above the main floor, where I can sing, where I can listen, where I can use my cell phone to send text messages if the sermon is really boring, where I can chew gum and blow bubbles and not have anybody see me.

I also like to hide in plain sight.  Be there, with people, but not really joining in the moment.  I do that a lot.  It's not healthy, to be honest.  It's a protective mode, keeping myself "hidden" from the people around me so they don't really see all that is going on beneath the surface.  It's a mess under there.

Which is really the problem, right now.  There's a mess under the surface of the exterior of me.  There's a disconnect.  It's something that has been growing and growing and growing, getting so large and overwhelming.  I want to deal with it and yet, I just don't want to either.  So I'm in hiding, of sorts, trying to keep one foot in front of the other, nodding and smiling at the right moments but just feeling numb on the inside, distracted, disconnected and just tired.

Here I am...

































and here is God.

We've been here before, God and I.  God hasn't left me, I haven't really left God.  There is just this wide chasm in me that feels miles apart from God...and I'm not really sure what I want to do about that.

I'm in hiding.  Sitting at the top of the balcony, watching the goings on, not really participating, if I'm honest, and not really sure that I want to participate all that much.  I'll just sit up there, chew my bubble gum and blow bubbles, all the while wondering where to go from here.

A post about Monday

I woke up in a blah-mood.

I got on the bus in a not-so-gracious mood.

I sat across from a smiling girl and her little brother on the light rail.  My mood got a little better.

I walked into work in a I-kinda-don't-want-to-be-here-but-I'll-make-the-best-of-it-mood.

I opened my emails and was BLASTED with a barrage of angry emails.

Not necessarily directed at me but angry still the same.

My mood plummeted back to not-so-gracious.

I sent out a not-so-flattering picture of my boss (at his request) to the masses.

The attention getting method worked.

One of the masses emailed back and laughter ensued.

My mood lightened again.

I have a feeling it's going to be "one of those days."

Happy Monday.  How's your mood?