At church on Sunday, our pastor's sermon was entitled "Get the Rhythm." My son already had the rhythm before the sermon started because during the special music, he got up and danced. My husband tried to get him to sit down and be still, but it really tickled me to see him be moved to dance in church.
I do not dance. I am too self-conscience to dance. I have never been to a club and danced. I didn't dance at my wedding reception. I have square danced before, but it has been a long time ago--and I don't think I was all that good at it. However, there is one occasion that I am required to dance. Kindermusik.
My son has been going to Kindermusik since he was ten months old. He is almost 3 1/2 now. In the classes, a parent accompanies the child and participates in the activities. There is always a dance or two that we do every week. It is silly dancing: twirling, jumping, crawling, prancing, twisting, rocking. It brings a smile to my son's face. We listen to the CD that we receive in our materials, and we laugh and dance at home, too.
The sermon today focused on getting into the rhythm of dwelling in the Holy Spirit--serving with the Spirit, as well as, allowing the Holy Spirit to serve us. We are to allow God to take our offerings and bless them.
As I listened to the sermon and thought about how I only dance with my son, it occurred to me that I always look at his face when we dance. That smile, that glowing smile of total happiness, it attracts my attention and keeps me from being self-conscience.
God calls us to the dance, too. More focus on God is less focus on our own insecurities. Keeping our eyes on God helps us serve God better. It might even be a catchy rhythm.
Monday, February 20, 2006
Tuesday, February 07, 2006
What's this About Biblical Criticism?
In my last year of college, I was required to take a Senior seminar in my major. My major was religion, and we read and responded to a book on biblical criticism. I remember having to keep a journal about what I was reading. One of my responses was to question why anyone sitting in the pew was going to think critically about the Bible. I surmised that the average church attendee is more concerned with day-to-day life. And here I am.
On Sunday morning, I am more concerned with getting my two kids out of bed, dressed, and fed. I then must remind my husband about five times to get up and get ready instead of watching ESPN tucked warmly in the bed. My oldest son will want candy at some point before it is time to leave for church. And my youngest will have a dirty diaper just as everyone is ready to go out the door for the arduous process of getting car seats buckled properly.
We will arrive at church about 5 minutes before worship starts. My youngest will have to be placed in the care of the nursery workers, and my oldest will have to find a bag with crayons and paper in it that are placed near the sanctuary door. Then comes the task of trying to listen to the service and keep my oldest quiet by drawing various animals and tracing handprints while also keeping one ear listening for my youngest in the nursery who has just begun to feel the effects of separation anxiety. By the time my oldest leaves for children's church and the sermon begins, I am exhausted. So what was this about biblical criticism?
Seriously, I do listen to sermons. I love hearing sermons. I analyze sermons--oops, that is from having to grade my classmates' sermons in divinity school. It never fails to amaze me that among all the good and bad and wonderful and terrible sermons I have heard, I always manage to hear the Holy Spirit come to me with a message. Sometimes I even hear a message that I am sure the speaker is not intending me to hear like one time when I heard a very conservative pastor (one who is not supportive of those women preachers) and I heard an affirmation of my call to ministry (to preach!!).
When 11:30 on Sunday comes, my soul is hungry for that word from God. And even though I struggle with my very busy Sunday mornings, I want to be still and listen when that time comes. I would hope the average person in the pew would seek out that time and cherish it also, regardless of a knowledge of biblical criticism.
On Sunday morning, I am more concerned with getting my two kids out of bed, dressed, and fed. I then must remind my husband about five times to get up and get ready instead of watching ESPN tucked warmly in the bed. My oldest son will want candy at some point before it is time to leave for church. And my youngest will have a dirty diaper just as everyone is ready to go out the door for the arduous process of getting car seats buckled properly.
We will arrive at church about 5 minutes before worship starts. My youngest will have to be placed in the care of the nursery workers, and my oldest will have to find a bag with crayons and paper in it that are placed near the sanctuary door. Then comes the task of trying to listen to the service and keep my oldest quiet by drawing various animals and tracing handprints while also keeping one ear listening for my youngest in the nursery who has just begun to feel the effects of separation anxiety. By the time my oldest leaves for children's church and the sermon begins, I am exhausted. So what was this about biblical criticism?
Seriously, I do listen to sermons. I love hearing sermons. I analyze sermons--oops, that is from having to grade my classmates' sermons in divinity school. It never fails to amaze me that among all the good and bad and wonderful and terrible sermons I have heard, I always manage to hear the Holy Spirit come to me with a message. Sometimes I even hear a message that I am sure the speaker is not intending me to hear like one time when I heard a very conservative pastor (one who is not supportive of those women preachers) and I heard an affirmation of my call to ministry (to preach!!).
When 11:30 on Sunday comes, my soul is hungry for that word from God. And even though I struggle with my very busy Sunday mornings, I want to be still and listen when that time comes. I would hope the average person in the pew would seek out that time and cherish it also, regardless of a knowledge of biblical criticism.
Monday, January 30, 2006
Stay-at-Home Mom
I stay at home with my kids. One is three years old, and the other one is seven months. And I have to say that I am not particularly fond of the task. Whenever I tell a group of stay-at-home mothers about my dislike of being one of them, I usually hear a gasp. They tell me to think of what I would miss if I was not at home.
And so I sit at home, watching my three year old run circles around the kitchen in the late evenings as he is prone to do as he gets tired. And I nurse my seven month old very carefully because he has three teeth and three more that are almost cut. But I am not satisfied with this life.
I wonder how no one can know me. I went to seminary; I traveled, even worked on an archaeological dig; I can preach, and I love doing that--yet I am so unfulfilled. To focus solely on my children would be a denial of a part of me: a part of me that will be here when my kids have flown the coop.
In the past four years since my last semester in seminary, I have applied to many ministry jobs. And I have been rejected. Most days I feel quite useless. Most days I can not even tell you where the time has gone. They fly away as quickly as they come. Too many dirty diapers, too many cups of apple juice, too many episodes of the Wiggles--time passes quickly. Yet I feel that my personal struggles to find a place in ministry have not changed.
The sermon that was preached at my church on Sunday was about prayer. I was confronted with the fact that my spiritual life needs more prayer. Some days it seems as though I cannot find time to pray. So I guess I will become a praying stay-at-home mom for now. It might be that my education has not been completed yet, or it may be that God would like to communicate more with me to set me on the way.
I do not think that I have to like staying at home to raise my kids. There are times when you have to do things you do not like. So I will pray and see and wait for the opportunity to come. If God has truly called me to be a minister on this earth, then I will trust that the door (or window) of opportunity will open in the future.
And so I sit at home, watching my three year old run circles around the kitchen in the late evenings as he is prone to do as he gets tired. And I nurse my seven month old very carefully because he has three teeth and three more that are almost cut. But I am not satisfied with this life.
I wonder how no one can know me. I went to seminary; I traveled, even worked on an archaeological dig; I can preach, and I love doing that--yet I am so unfulfilled. To focus solely on my children would be a denial of a part of me: a part of me that will be here when my kids have flown the coop.
In the past four years since my last semester in seminary, I have applied to many ministry jobs. And I have been rejected. Most days I feel quite useless. Most days I can not even tell you where the time has gone. They fly away as quickly as they come. Too many dirty diapers, too many cups of apple juice, too many episodes of the Wiggles--time passes quickly. Yet I feel that my personal struggles to find a place in ministry have not changed.
The sermon that was preached at my church on Sunday was about prayer. I was confronted with the fact that my spiritual life needs more prayer. Some days it seems as though I cannot find time to pray. So I guess I will become a praying stay-at-home mom for now. It might be that my education has not been completed yet, or it may be that God would like to communicate more with me to set me on the way.
I do not think that I have to like staying at home to raise my kids. There are times when you have to do things you do not like. So I will pray and see and wait for the opportunity to come. If God has truly called me to be a minister on this earth, then I will trust that the door (or window) of opportunity will open in the future.
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