Sleep Wrestling

My newest spiritual practice is to read a daily entry of Celtic Treasure: Daily Scripture and Prayer by J. Philip Newell each morning.

This morning's entry focused on the biblical story of Jacob wrestling with God. In the context of the story (Genesis 28-33), I remember the complexity of human relationships. The parental favoritism shown by Abraham toward their son Esau and Sarah toward their son Jacob. The brotherly feud between Esau and Jacob. The trickery, manipulation, and power struggles. And in the midst of the human messiness, Jacob wrestles with God. In his sleep, Jacob is worried about confronting his brother Esau and he wrestles with his fears and with God. By the end he's desperately asking for God's blessing and protection in the day ahead.

Reading this story this morning is the first time I've really connected with Jacob's wrestling in his sleep. My own worries and fears can dominate my subconscious and take over my dream world. In these dreams, I find my subconscious working out daily interactions and processing deep emotional issues. It feels like wrestling with my fears and with God. A wrestling match between my own free will and with God's will.  I wrestle by wanting to cling so strongly to the control I have (or perceive to have) and my own desires for how things should work out.

At the end of the scripture passage, Jacob does encounter his brother. And the big event he feared turns into a joyous event of reconciliation. Jacob, wounded by his fitful slumber, limps toward Esau and Esau runs to him, kisses him and together they weep. Jacob says to his brother, "Seeing your face is like seeing the face of God, for you have welcomed me back with love."

Waking from a fitful night's rest is never fun. It sometimes makes the day ahead incredibly hard to face. Reflection on this scripture has made me ready to look for the ways the events I fear become events full of joy. For God's will is always better than my own.

when relationships fall apart

Most of us experience our relationship with God through our relationships with other humans.

Particularly through the relationships closest to us - a partner, a parent, a best friend. In a lot of ways, this makes sense. It is through our spouse, our family members, our closest friends, that we share intimate love. We depend on each other to understand - and even love - ourselves.

Covenant relationships - where we both commit to care for each other - can be great windows into our faith with God.

But what happens when they fall short or worse, fall apart? What happens when a parent ISN'T God-like in the way they love you? Or a partner diminishes your self worth.... Or a best friend closes you out...

Then these relationships are no longer helpful windows through which to experience and know God. Often in ministry, I have to remind myself and those I care for that human relationships are flawed. That though our faith may be built upon close, intimate relationships, it must be more. Because God is more. God accepts us, loves us unconditionally, and will never EVER leave us alone.

Humans aren't perfect and therefore our relationships with one another aren't perfect. We will make mistakes, we will hurt each other, we will create wounds for each other that sometimes feel too deep to heal. And though we certainly will make mistakes and create wounds in our relationship with God, God will be our rock. God will grant forgiveness and radical love.

Prayers for all those mending relationship wounds. It's really hard, but trust me, God is still there.

Christmas Cards

As I prepare for our Christmas Cards to be sent out, I realize how many of my friends have moved in the last 6 months - 1 year. Seriously, it is over half! Not only does it make me work in a frenzy to stay up to date on their current addresses, but it also makes me think about how transient my generation can be. Moving for jobs or further education grants us lots of opportunities, but at the cost of leaving familiar territory - friends and family and land that we've called "home."

Tim and I are obviously no different from our friends. We've moved apartments (and sometimes cities) every year for the past 7 years. We  have grown accustomed to change and have learned not to get attached to an apartment.

It makes me wonder what the effects of constant transition will have on our generation. Will we suffer from chronic anxiety over not knowing what is next? Will our families have a harder time staying involved in each other's lives? Will we ever feel grounded and a sense of belonging to a community and land?

These are certainly some of my fears with constant transition.

Tim and I moved to San Francisco in June and were quickly greeted with open arms by my new Presbyterian minister colleagues and Mission Bay Community Church. We are lucky. We found a place to live and after a few months of excruciating anxiety over what work Tim would find, God placed Tim in a wonderful work environment working on things that bring him home happy and fulfilled. My heart is BEYOND grateful for this gift.

Still, it hasn't been until recently that I've felt a little of what I've been yearning for. Just over Thanksgiving I was sharing with Tim how I finally feel grounded here. I'm just beginning to feel like I know more or less what to expect from work, from this city, from new friends. I feel like I'm finding my rhythm here and don't wake each day with anxiety of what will come next. Each day I fall deeper in love with my church community and am amazed by how God works through them. I've been able to enjoy this city, this land more as my home. God is granting us a sense of belonging here.

The more I lean into my experience of this transition and the deepening of my faith through it, I'm convinced that our transient generation has a merriad of opportunities to grow closer to God. Several wise people told me and Tim that as we moved far from family we would need to cling to God and to each other. This has been so true. My transition of uncertainty and excitement threw me closer to God as I was more aware of my dependency on God to provide for our most basic needs. It brought me closer to Tim as we had to voice our fears and expectations of each other and of the transition in order to make it through.

As I address cards, I pray for all my friends and all people going through transition. I'm acutely aware of the roller coaster of emotions - balancing exciting new opportunities with the sadness of leaving familiarity. I pray that in the moments of loneliness and fear, we seek out intentional community that grounds us in this new place and helps us to look beyond ourselves to find the inner peace and sense of belonging we so deeply need.

Life isn't fair

Life is just not fair.

This is a truth we all learn in life. As a pastor, I'm finding that I'm reminded of this truth all too often.

As I step into the vulnerable lives of those I know and love, I see time and time again how bad things happen to good people and good things happen to bad people. I read the news and watch people advance in their careers by lying and cheating their way through the system, while honest and talented people can't even get interviews for a job. I watch my friends in Haiti get pummeled by natural disaster after natural disaster having to rebuild with no resources as I sit here in comfort not affected by disaster at all. I see parents ache to have a child only to be met with barrenness and miscarriages while other couples are surprised and even terrified with unexpected pregnancies.

I see an elderly person wanting their family to see and accept that their time has come to die and I see lives taken all too soon.

What are we to do as people of faith in the face of unfairness? How are we to seek guidance and help from our God when we feel God is being a parent who won't play fair?

It's a daily struggle to find peace in all the chaos and to trust that God is in control. It's hard to know how we are to fight for justice in the system when it doesn't feel like justice is even an option. Today, I pray for those who experience the unfairness of our world. I pray that God might provide a sense of comfort, hope, and joy amidst their pain.