Trust Me Preacher Lady

I love Laundry Love--and it's not because I love doing laundry and holding babies--both of which I love to and get to do when I'm there. No, it's because of the people, the people who minister to me every time. And if I'm totally honest, one in particular--Darren.

I met Darren 3 years ago. Boss had just arrived home from Montana. He went with me and also met Darren. But he didn't stay. It was a hard time for him and he just didn't want to be around people very much or for very long. We had planned to go to dinner afterwards, instead Darren ran across the street to his apartment and brought me some of his homemade bbque. "I know you'd rather go eat with your son," Darren told me, "but this is pretty good too. And trust me Preacher Lady, your boy is going to be alright."


Spring 2017 I was back at Laundry Love. Darren shows up. I begin helping him fold his clothes. "How's your boy?" he asks. I think I might have teared up a little bit. "He's having a hard time right now," I responded. "Trust me Preacher Lady," Darren said as he nudged me, "Your boy is going to be alright." (Thanks to that comment I didn't ball up and destroy the SEVEN Florida Gator t-shirts I was helping him to fold.)

Darren and I have seen each other at least 1/2 dozen times since then. Every time we talk football smack and EVERY TIME he asks about "my boy." EVERY. SINGLE. TIME.

That may not seem like a big deal to some, but it was and is HUGE for me. Some of my closest "friends" stopped asking about Boss a long time ago--others stopped talking to me--others spend enormous amounts of time and energy trying to avoid me. But not Darren. Darren asks. Darren cares. Darren doesn’t judge. Darren just has faith. Darren just loves.

Last Thursday I was at Laundry Love and no Darren. I had a great time but was disappointed. Have no fear! Seven forty five (we end at 8) in walks Darren. We hugged each other as he said, "I don't have any laundry tonight, but I was looking out my window and saw you so had to run over here. How's your boy?" I know my smile could have lit up the laundromat if the power went out. "He's great!" I told him. "Living back here in Louisville and working. I get to see him and he calls or texts me every morning. He's awesome." Darren just smiled, gave me a wink and said, "See I told you to trust me. I knew he was going to be alright; I never doubted it from the day I met him. Just got to have a little faith." Then he gave me a big hug and said, "And here you're the Preacher Lady."

Darren walked me to my car as we closed up ("No one's going to mess with you if I'm around," he

told me.) He hugged me again, opened my door and I slid in with a heart exploding with love for this man and his faith.

Then, Darren knocked on the window. I rolled it down. "Go Gators!" he yelled.

Well mostly love....

A Sermon for Maddie

I think I can safely say and be 100% accurate that not one of us planned on being here this Monday

morning. I think it's probably also very accurate no one wants to be here. I don't think Maddie wanted us to have to be here. And yet here we are surrounding her family with our love and prayers as they begin the journey of the unimaginable. We don't want to be here, they don't want to be here. The journey has begun; the journey that we all can only travel because the power of God working within us can do infinitely more than we can ask or imagine.

Our liturgy today is an Easter liturgy. It is the liturgy of the resurrection remembering and celebrating that God came, lived and died for us so that we would have eternal life. God has conquered death and we know Maddie now rests in the loving arms of God. Maddie is finally at peace. But we also hurt. Our hearts are troubled even though as the Gospel tells us there is a place for us all, a place where Maddie now is, a place with many rooms, which let's be honest is a good thing because Maddie would rather move to another room than clean up the one she's in.

Our hearts are troubled because while we know Maddie is at peace and in God's loving arms we want her here with us. Our arms ache to hold her. God knows that. God understands that. God weeps and grieves with us while at the same time he lovingly holds Maddie.

God loves us completely, fully, unconditionally. God loves ALL of us no exceptions. That's how Maddie loved. Look around today and you can see that unconditional love. People are gathered here --people who may otherwise never cross paths--Maddie brought people together. And we loved Maddie. God loves Maddie and God loves each of us. Sometimes you may not feel that, you may feel so distant from God, and that's okay. Feel our love--let us wrap our arms around you and be the hands and feet of Christ here in the flesh. Let us be the love of God for you.

God loves us so very much that God came to live among us and to journey to the cross and beyond for us. Jesus lived a short 33 years, but during that time he too felt deep pain. He felt the pain of the betrayal of his friends, those he thought knew and loved him most. He felt unbearable grief at the grave of his friend. Jesus felt loneliness, betrayal, and fear. He cried out to God in his anguish expressing how he felt forsaken even by God. God understands the darkness that can overtake us.

There is nothing God desires more for us than complete and total wholeness. God desires that we all live into the people God created us to be--complete and whole. God journeys with us on our journey towards that wholeness beginning at our baptism and continuing until we are united with God for all of eternity. For some the journey is a long one and for others it is much shorter. Maddie's journey began here at her baptism and, for us, her journey was far too short. She is now complete and whole, pain free and resting in God's arms.

I need to say this very clearly. God does NOT cause, allow whatever verb you want to use, tragedies to happen to teach us or someone else a lesson. God does NOT want us to experience the pain we are feeling so something good will come out of it. God is loving and forgiving and merciful and full of grace.

Thursday morning I walked out to my front yard to look at what I call my resurrection garden. Every year I plant the lilies we have placed on the altar at Easter for my grandparents and my husbands grandparents and every year they bloom just when I need to be reminded of God's eternal love and of the resurrection. Thursday I looked down and noticed they were different sizes and heights. Some were very tall reminding me some people have long lives, others were very short. But they were all blooming--there is always resurrection. I looked down again and saw all the weeds crowding them (I'm not so good at keeping up with that). I thought that's the world we live in--a world that is broken and messy--a world of weeds but out of that, despite that resurrection does always comes. Always.

Alleluia the Lord is risen.

Dogs, Shells, and People--My Balm in Gilead

If you're sick of me droning on and on about loss and grief, join the

club. I am the President of the "get over yourself and move on" Club. The problem is I'm doing a really lousy job--the impeachment process has probably already started...

I haven't felt like writing because I don't like to write when I can't tie it all up--you know in a pretty package with a great big, cost more than the present, bow. And like other writers (sometimes I pretend I'm one of those) I know it's not really a good idea to write until you're through the experience--learned that in EFM too. But this morning two things happened....

The second--I was reading a blog by someone I'd never read before, but I was hooked. She is a real writer, funny, honest, sincere, and deep. I highly recommend you follow her Justifying Jane. (an aside--I was trying to click on one of her blogs a smart wise friend had posted on facebook. The link wouldn't work so if it doesn't work for you try typing it into your browser. I have no idea why I worked so hard to read that post that I spent 15 minutes trying to figure it out, hmmmm.....maybe that's a third thing) Anyway she wrote this in one of her posts, "And that’s where I’m at right now. I’m in the midst of a very specific and painful storm. The worst part about this storm, is that it didn’t just happen to me. I wasn’t minding my own business when all of a sudden the clouds rolled in and started screwing with my life. There’s no fundraisers or meals or Hallmark cards for this kind of storm."

So that's where the first part came in....

Even though I can't run or even walk down the beach, I get up every morning and head down there so the dogs can run and I can pray or cry or scroll through facebook or read leadership books--basically so the dogs won't drive me crazy all day.  Just like when I used to run, some of the same people pass every day, many with dogs. Winnie and Bobby LOVE their new friends.

Two days ago one woman with her 8 month tri-colored springer was passing one way and a couple with their mutt and 8 week springer puppy were passing the other. This was the first day they passed at the same time. Everyone stopped in front of me. I didn't get up--y'all it's not pretty trying to get up off the sand at 51 years of age with a knee that won't bend or straighten, and if truth be told, I was hoping they'd just say hello and chop

chop walk on.  They didn't.

Not only did they not quickly leave, the gentleman came over to me. At this point my raised in the south to always be polite and overly explain took over, "I'm sorry I'm not getting up. I just had total knee replacement 6 weeks ago and it's hard to get up and down." I'm not really sure how the conversation continued. What I do remember is his wife joining us as the other woman continued on (why couldn't they do that too?). Somehow running came up, and God help me I don't want to be a broken record pity party, but I said something to the effect of how sad I was about not being able to run on the beach--as though they'd care.

They did.

The man said, "We totally understand. We were marathon runners. I had to have both hips replaced and she had breast cancer and broke her femur. Now we just walk." Tears sprang to my eyes (you saw that coming didn't you?), I literally started spewing forth all my sadness, pointing to the pier, and moving my feet back and forth in the sand like I was running. They both just kept nodding. Finally I said, "What did you find to take the place of running?" She said, "Beer" while he said, "Nothing." Then they laughed. He continued, "No here's the honest truth, we have found nothing that replaces it. We still wish we could run marathons or even a 5K. We still get sad and angry. But for now we just walk and meet people like you." WOW! And I've been wanting to write about that for two days, but here's the thing. I wanted it to be life changing and to get me out of my funk. I wanted it to be my balm in Gilead--no that's not true, I wanted it to miraculously cure me.

A balm in Gilead is medicine that heals, but we all know it doesn't cure after one dose...

This morning I saw my friends walking towards me. About 10 yards from me the man bent down and picked something up. As they got closer he said, "Do you ever collect shells? We do. We like to find beautiful ones. I found this one just down there near you. I'd like you to have it." Tears again...."Thank you," I responded. "I'm going to put it on my desk at work to remind me of this time."

So three not two things:
1. God works through dogs and people and shells--
2. God works through technology
3. God works through writers like Justifying Jane

God works--God is never finished. I may never be completely over being sad about not running, but I believe it will get better (sooner rather than later would be good). God is working on it....