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McCommunion

It’s the first Sunday of the month, which means communion in our church. We do it by “intinction” (the less reverent of us refer to it as “rip and dip”) and end with a song. It’s a significant moment in the worship service. 

Then as a family, we went to McDonalds with 2 other families to let the kids run wild, in preparation of the looming storm. And there, I took part in communion again, this time – I believe – closer to the intentions of Jesus. 
Image source, please don’t sue me
Not that “church communion” is wrong or bad or unnecessary. I would very VERY much miss it if the traditional act disappeared from our order of worship. I need those times of being reminded of Jesus’ sacrifice. While at JSUMC, I came to dwell on the liturgy that says Make them be for us the body and blood of Christ so that we may be for the world the body of Christ, redeemed by his blood.  
But while at McDonald’s, over french fries and diet coke, the body of Christ became real to me. Josh was picking up the french fries I spilled. Maddie helped get Miss M’s boot from behind the shoe rack. Jen invited me to feed my family (as well as my soul) in a crockpot cooking date and Lindsay lifted my spirits by making me feel a little more normal. We talked about nothing and everything, probably at the same time. I left in much better shape than I arrived. 
Now, irony that we indulged in McDonald’s aside, some thoughts: You know that phrase, “you are what you eat”? Well, that phrase is old. Like, really really old. Old Testament old. My friend Pastor Trevor, who would probably punch me in the neck if I called him by that title to his face, told me about this. 
Back in “the day” when people ate whatever they killed and found,  it was very un-kosher to eat something that still had the blood in it. Not just because drinking blood was gross, but because they believed if you consumed the blood, you took on the essence of that which was bleeding. If you ate a bleeding goat, you took on the life of that goat. Hence all the food laws and women-in-tents laws and open/gushing-sores laws. So blood was quite the no-no, especially to the most devout. 
And then Jesus says “Drink my blood.” Freak. Right? 
Unless he really meant something by that. Drink the blood because you’re to become like its source. Take on its essence. Allow the blood to live and move through you. 
The way in which you take on his essence is by allowing God to move in the most inner parts of your being. You absorb Him and become like him. 
I propose, also, it’s not just what you eat, but with whom you eat it. Jesus didn’t give the Last Supper to the disciples solo – it was part of a communal meal. It was a coming together. I believe that if we’re to take part in true communion* then we need to eliminate the drive-thru spirituality and start sitting down at the table. Allow a friend to hold your baby and get a refill for someone else while you’re getting up. 
Because you don’t learn how to love others and become like Jesus in solitary confinement. We get a picture of what we’re looking at by reading the scriptures, but we practice living that out in the presence of others. And when those other people are striving towards a life centered on Jesus, those habits and patterns and acts will begin to rub off onto the ways in which you’re living out Christ’s work in your life. You are what you eat and you become like those around you. 
Greater love has no one than this: to lay his life down for his friends (John 15:13).
*And I do prefer the juice to the McNuggets pink ooze.

“God’s timing is perfect” and other things we tell ourselves

Disclaimer: I’m chewing on this concept. This is a blog, not a a theological tome. I think your expectations will match the content. 

Once a ponce a time – last week – the weather was perfect and the kids were driving us crazy, so JJ took them to the park. Correction: he took half of them. The baby isn’t really into the park yet (and JJ couldn’t carry him) and Lady C… well, that’s the point of this post. 
“Go potty and put on your boots and you can go with Daddy to the park,” I said no less than 27 million times. With reminders. Go potty. Hurry up, daddy’s ready to leave. Let’s go potty. And yet, she refused. So when the van pulled away she learned yet another lesson on listening to mommy and daddy. She chippered up relatively quickly and helped me make dinner. 
Then I made the mistake of going to the bathroom. Of course, since she had not went earlier, she wanted to join me. And then she pranced out of the bathroom (she rarely does anything without prancing) and put on her boots and coat. She opened the door and couldn’t find daddy
She’s going to thank me for this picture someday.
She believed that when she was ready, Daddy would be there waiting on her to take her to the park. True, the offer was “if you go potty and put on your boots, you can go with daddy to the park.” She just didn’t realize Daddy wasn’t going to wait to the detriment of the other 2 kids buckled in the car. 
When things don’t work out for us in life, it’s tempting to make God the mean daddy who didn’t wait for you to put on your boots when you were asked. Note: asked repeatedly. Encouraged. Spoken to with love and care. Warned. Exhorted. 
We open up the door to the garage and see that the car has left and we missed the trip to the park. But it’s not because God had the departure time wrong – it’s because of our own stubbornness. It’s a trip to the park – not the dentist – so our driver generously invites us along but doesn’t force us into the car seat, kicking and screaming. 
And God doesn’t stop the world from turning while we learn. Other children get to enjoy the ride while we get our act together and, yes, that’s completely fair. This makes God seem like quite the stick-in-the-mud, doesn’t it? So… inflexible. Unreasonable. 
But God’s generosity isn’t found in giving us what we want, when we want it. It’s found in his willingness to allow us to participate in his action with the world. We get to ride along. We’re invited. That’s the grace. That’s the gift. Putting the offer on our timetable simply because we’re just not into listening to instructions pretty much says, “mmm, thanks but no thanks.” 
Fortunately, we have a God that returns from the trip to the park and promises a new offer tomorrow. The park isn’t closed forever and missing one trip doesn’t exclude us from a future of slides and swings. Yesterday’s stubbornness doesn’t count against tomorrow’s plans. 
So after an afternoon of fighting and ignoring instructions, if you find yourself opening the door to an empty garage, please don’t blame God. He had the timing right. The best thing to do is be ready for tomorrow’s trip. 

The List: 2014

Before composing this year’s list, I decided to take a stroll down memory bloggy lane and read my previous attempts. I’m seeing some themes:

1. I never take pictures, no matter how much I resolve to. 
2. I suck at following through, because that seems to make the lists repeatedly. 
3. I keep trying to be a better wife. I’m choosing to think that I can’t reach perfection and that’s why it’s making the list, but I suppose I’ll have to ask the primary judge in the situation. 
4. In 2009 I wanted to live more “joyfully and generously.” Those 2 words have dominated my last 6-12 months of life and I can’t believe the were growing roots waaaay back when. Note: when something sprouts in your mind, deal with it then. 
5. Dental hygiene seems to keep popping up. **Bashful eyes**
I’m just going to go ahead and ban those 5 things from this and future lists and move on. I can have a separate life list of Things I Suck At But I’m Trying To Improve. Fair? 
How I hope to make 2014 better than 2013:
  1. Proofread. I posted a blog with the wrong freaking year. (Fortunately I’m over the hope that some high up editorial staffer is perusing blogger for up-and-coming talent. So, other than the person who pointed it out on facebook, no one probably cared, noticed or a combo of both). It’s time I do a little bit more re-reading. 
  2. Live generously. I know, I just said I’m not re-adding anything from the above list, but this has been very close to my heart and I really want to make that happen. I need to open my tight fists if I ever hope to receive goodness. 
  3. Sing more, yell less. I really do try to control THE VOLUME OF MY VOICE (Sorry. I had to.) in conjunction with my children, but I think I could do better at choosing to move past my frustration and think creatively on how to engage them and move forward in challenging situations. My default is anger and frustration. I don’t want to ignore behavior. But there must be a third way. I shared with my group of GIRLfriends (plug!) about how I started singing to the kids to get them to do what I needed – and it worked! Now, not only practically but philosophically, I want to sing more. No more noise. No more unnecessary anger. 
  4. Live honestly. Not in a your-pants-are-too-tight kind of way, but in a you-add-to-my-life kind of way. I tend to hold on to a lot of thoughts and emotion, especially gratitude, but also honesty in my own shortcomings, fears and failures. I might be able to share them freely to the faceless abyss of the interwebs, but to people I know and love? Not so much. So, here’s to it. 
  5. Take a class or tutorial on the Adobe suite. I’ve been ignoring this professional deficiency for far too long. 
So, that’s it. But I think doing these things will bring me to a much different place on December 31, 2014. 
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