Receiving feedback

I've never exactly done well at taking compliments.  I like to think I receive feedback a little better, but compliments just make me uncomfortable.  The whole thing is especially weird when folks feel like they have to say something nice even when they really have nothing to say.  Whether it has to do with how I receive them or the impulse from which they emerge, compliments are just awkward for me.  Yet, sometimes you get something really fresh and totally unexpected.  I still don't know how to take it but I had to share it somewhere.  I didn't want to plaster it all over facebook, so perhaps this is as good a venue as any.

 I should preface this by saying I don't know when I have felt so dry in terms of having a word to preach.  Late Saturday, I was exhausted from a lock-in and the best I could manage were fragments of thoughts and no clear direction.  We had a couple of first-time visitors in worship today (praise be to God).  After the service, one of them approached me and said: "You have a gift.  When you get up there you just lose any of that southern boy persona and your face and everything is different.  You're just like Moses."  Now, I can honestly say, I've never received sermon or worship feedback quite so unique.  So what in the world are you supposed to do with something like that?

I'm still trying to figure out what is my southern-boy persona (never mind trying to figure out how they know or ever met Moses).  I guess somehow the spirit moved through and in spite of me.  I write all this on the eve of appearing before my PPRC committee for my annual review.  Here's hoping for some uniquely genuine feedback and for the wisdom to process it.

Flubbed

Ever had one of those days?  All you had to do was basically lace your shoes and it would be golden.  But, you couldn't even pull that off.  Those are even more frustrating than the days when nothing is going your way.  These are the days when you had only one thing you had to accomplish for the entire 24 hours and yet somehow you managed to flub that too.  It's sort of like when my wife spends the afternoon preparing a delicious treat, places it in the oven, and then asks me to pull it out an hour later.  I didn't have to prepare it or put in any effort of my own.  All I had to do was get up, reach down, and lift it out of the oven when the timer was up.  Yet, somehow, 75 minutes later it dawns on me that I had a task to do.  (So much for pound cake).

Presidential candidate Mitt Romney seemed to have one of those days this weekend.  Word was out that at a Saturday morning campaign appearance in Virginia, Mitt would announce his pick for a VP running mate.  Tons of work had gone on behind the scenes to make this pivotal moment come to fruition.  The only responsibility he had was to introduce Paul Ryan as the next VP of the United States.  Well, as you may have heard, Romney even flubbed that.  Mitt's speech hits a crescendo and everyone listening leans in for this proclamation, only to have him wind up introducing Paul Ryan as the next President of the US. 

Don't you just love those days?  You have one simple thing to accomplish and you can't even manage to get that right.  I've had my share.  I'm sure I'm in for many more before my days here on earth are done.  But, in the meantime, you just have to smile, shake your head, and laugh (a lot).  Thanks God for giving me what I truly need in life to fulfill your purposes for me and not what I want. 

Chris Hughes Renewal Series Aug 5-8!

Receiving a blessing

I just returned yesterday from a remarkable 7 day experiment in Christian community in Huntersville, NC by the name of Salkehatchie.  Awash with emotion and overwhelmed with fatigue, I'm trying to make sense or put to paper the awakenings that were stirred within me over those 168 hours.  It's almost an impossible task.  Yet,  this morning, a 15 year-old young man helped me do that.  He gave me a few words that I now give to you.  It may have been the best birthday gift I received.

I welcomed my birthday with a charge-wide service led by our youth who recounted the stories and experiences of a week in service and mission to the glory of God.  Not only did their stories become the message for the day, they each took a role in the regular order of service.  For the prayers of the people, one young man came forward, asked everyone to bow with him in prayer, knelt at the altar, and began to pray.  As he closed his prayer, he added these words:  "And thank you God for sending us such a great preacher who really cares about us, and wants to do stuff with us."  Normally, I avoid such praise or attention like the plague.  But today, it only added to this week-long awakening and it meant the world to a 32 year old preacher who is still trying to figure out what it means to live into his calling.  It meant the world and it also gave me some words for these past 7 days - words I wanted to share with you.

After ten years, ten weeks, and 1,680 hours of experimental Christian community, Salkehatchie- Huntersville closed a chapter in a life-transforming supplement to the greatest story ever told.  Ten years ago, Jerry & Mona Kita answered a call to ministry and today we are still trying to find the words to describe a ripple of resurrection that has spread across the Carolinas.  I wish I had a better way of saying thank you or of singing praises of thanksgiving to my God like never before.  Perhaps the only way I know of doing that is to offer a blessing.  So, receive this blessing:  "Thank you God for sending us such great preachers, like Jerry & Mona, who really care about us and want to do stuff with us."  The "service" has ended, the mission begins.

Breaking Dawn

        No, I can't say I'm actually a Twi-hard fan of the whole Twilight trilogy of books or movies.  (Alas, however, I did actually end up seeing this one, but that's another story entirely).  The title pun is actually in reference to my final morning on the Lake at Annual Conference this year.  We all see evidence of God's handiwork at sometime or another, and this just happened to be one of them.  Normally, I try to jog around the lakeshore.  But, I slowed down enough that morning to watch creation speak afresh.  Earlier than usual, I was treated to a majestic sunrise over the horizon that sat the hills aglow.  Approaching the wooden bridge over the dam, the temperature variation in the water and the cool 55 degree air gave way to a dense foggy mist cascading back over the bridge and surging across the lake's surface.  As the planks below my feet began to rattle with the steady rhythm of my strolling pace, I spotted atop the bridge railing a single, plump (what i believe to have been) robin.  She was gazing out across the fog marching in and wasn't startled in the slightest as I stood directly behind her.  For a moment, I wondered if she were okay because I could almost reach out and touch her, yet she was so stoic and still.  After gazing with her, I continued across to the other side of the bridge.  Looking skyward again, I was treated to the complete opposite of what I had witnessed minutes earlier.  There, atop a utility line strung across one edge of the shore to another, was a scene directly out the memorable Pixar short, "For the birds."  There had to have been at least 80 birds, (of what species I am uncertain), nesting on the line and bending it to an obtuse V-like angle hovering just above the water.  What a breathtaking morning!  And all the while, the reverse cascade of fog rolled in off the dam dancing toward the western shore.  It was a beautiful ending to an inspiring Annual Conference and a remarkable beginning to the Sabbath.  "He looks at the earth, and it trembles; He touches the mountains, and they smoke.  I will sing to the LORD as long as I live; I will sing praise to my God while I have my being."

How do you know?

        "How do you know if you’re called?  How do you know if you’re being called?  You’re a pastor, so what was it like for you?  How did you know you were called into ministry?"

        If you’ve ever had a house, then you know there’s always something that needs to be done.  Sometimes it’s something you can take care of yourself.  Other times, it requires the help of a skilled professional.  We’ve had a storm drain installed, a roof patched, trees removed.  You name it.  But, in my short-lived experience, I’ve never had a conversation with a repairman or contractor like that – that is, until about a month ago.  

        I’m on long distance with a young man who is sharing with me the details of a work estimate.  We’re discussing materials, labor, time, and all of those specifics.  I’m trying to ask informed questions.  And then, he asks me a question that leaves me stunned.  "I was looking at your card again," he says, "and I noticed you’re a pastor.  So I had something I was hoping to ask you."  (My mind immediately thought, "Uh-oh? There’s no telling where this is going.").  Then, he asked it.  "How do you know if you’re called?  You’re a pastor.  So what was it like for you?  How did you know you were called into ministry?  I feel like God’s been trying to show me something.  I keep having these dreams.  I keep feeling like he’s nudging me at church.  I think maybe he’s calling me to be in ministry.  But how do you know?"  
Stunned silence.

        I still haven’t recovered from that moment.  I don’t know if I’ll ever have a conversation like that again with a contractor, but I hope I do.  After I picked my jaw up off the floor, I did my best to try to affirm him and listen.  We have covenanted to be in prayer and meet to discuss this further.  And so, tonite I'm praying for a contractor and his wife.  God, use these materials to build your Kingdom.  Amen.

Everyone should have a child

          Last night my wife and I had a night to ourselves.  This might sound beyond belief but we went out for dinner at a restaurant!  I assure you it's true.  You see, we have a beautiful 14 month old daughter and last night she had a sleepover with the grandparents. 
          If there's one thing I've learned from this unbelievable, and at times crazy, experience of trying to be a dad, it's how incredibly selfish I am.  No one ever mentions this when you're expecting a child.  The closest thing people would say is "that changes everything."  Maybe that's what they actually meant, that you'll find out how incredibly selfish you are.  When a child comes into your life, it's no longer about you.  Instead, all your efforts, your schedule, and your energies are focused on caring, nurturing, and loving that child.  As I've looked back on my life, I've noticed just how much of my world revolved around me.  What I felt like, wanted to do, or decided to pursue.  Catching a matinee, hours of pick-up games, or 1am Target runs are a thing of the past.  Do I miss it?  Absolutely!  Would I change it?  No. 
           Having a child is priceless.  And it's something I wish everyone should have.  I think the world would be a better place if we were all awakened to the reality of our self-centeredness and invited to learn how to give our self for others.  Marriage is just the first step.  You begin to learn it's not all about you.  But fatherhood or motherhood?  Well, that's the gauntlet.  Because then you realize it was never about you.  Your true delight becomes emptying yourself so completely that someone else might thrive and grow and love.  My daughter gives me untold treasures.  (Not the least of which is her irresistible smile).  But, her best gift so far is teaching me how to be empty for others.

Real reason

          It's almost eight in the evening and the phone rings.  It's the county hospital.  Today was actually my assigned volunteer day.  The desk informs me that someone has requested a chaplain.  I try to trouble shoot to see if this was an emergency and I need to come in that evening.  It's possible this was just a routine request and someone new to the protocol just saw me listed and direct dialed this evening.  The receptionist is unaware of the situation, so she transfers me back to ER.  After a brief dialogue with an ER staffer, I'm no better off.  I make the call to go in anyway just in case this is an EOL (end of life) scenario.  By the time I check in and make my way to the ER, the gentleman who made the request (we'll call him John) is about to be moved to a room.  I enter, introduce myself, meet John, and attempt to diagnose his spiritual need that evening.  It turns out, John is more interested in the tv and food he will get that night than he is to talk with a chaplain.  He basically admits to just checking it off the addmittal form, along with a lot of other stuff.  John wasn't really looking for a chaplain that night.  He was just looking for anything.  Evidently, he wasn't used to the basic comforts we have each day like a room, a tv, a hot meal, and blankets.  I get John an extra blanket and we pray before I take my leave. 

          Since I'm already there, I move up to the second floor to see if anyone else needs a chaplain that evening.  A nurse refers me to 214 where I encounter a family that was actually entering the building the same time I did moments earlier.  There's a remarkably well-aged lady with long white hair resting in the bed, attached to oxygen, and largely unresponsive.   Her daughter, son-in-law, and only grandson are the only folks in the room.  Over the course of about 35 minutes, I discover the real reason I was called up there that night.  Sarah has lived a rich, full life for over 90 years but she's not expected to make it through the week.  Her grandson just got in after a 7.5 hour drive from WV.  He's likely in his late 30's but is getting married for the first time next week.  It's a unique meeting of beginnings and endings in the room that night.  For the next half hour, I'm privleged to share in it.  I leave grateful for what we encountered in that room that night in each other and in our prayers.  Shortly after Sarah comes off the machine the next morning, she dies.  Her grandson will head back to WV to wed his fiance.  John will have another night to enjoy in a room until they regulate his seizures and blood sugar.  And I'll remember that sometimes the real reason you are needed for something isn't always what you expect.

It's good to be seen

          Sam sits on the stairwell at the corner of an abandoned building in town. You can find him here most afternoons and mornings. There's nothing particularly significant about this building. Most buildings in town are vacant or abandoned. That seems to be the case now in most downtowns or Main Streets around the country. Sam of course isn't always confined to the stairwell either. Sometimes he's crouched by the doorway, sometimes leaning against a glass storefront, sometimes wandering the sidewalks on either side of the street. Most of you may even have a Sam in your town. Some would say he's homeless. While I'm fairly certain he doesn't have a house of his own, he certainly has a home - and I get to drive, jog, and stroll through it most any day of the week. He'll walk or hitch a ride to a residence each morning and evening. But the town, that's Sam's home. If you asked him, he might even tell you that. I don't know him well but I do know he has a heart. I do know his eyes light up when he smiles. He's actually a very intelligent individual and he has a mother still living in a local care facility. Sam is one of the few people I know who could tell you that the date for Christmas is probably closer to early Fall or late Summer. It has little to do with when Christ was actually born and more about offsetting pagan holidays and rituals. I know because we've had that conversation before. Sam is a man of faith for sure, and he's an informed one.

           This particular day is a rare occasion. I was on my way somewhere, or returning from something, so I was actually driving to check my PO Box instead of my usual 3 1/2 block walk. I left the car on and threw up a hand at Sam across the way as I dashed into the post office to grab my mail. A few seconds later, I step out, dart across the street, and personally shake Sam's hand to say hello. His eyes light up because he has one those big smiles on his face and we exchange a few pleasantries about the day or the weather. I ask about his mom briefly and he affirms she's doing well. Not knowing what else to add, and with the car still running, I give him a combination handshake/hug and tell him it's good to see him. Looking straight into my eyes, with his wide grin and laugh, he tells me "It's good to be seen." I dart back to the car and head on to wherever I was going or wherever I was coming from. I don't really remember. What I do remember is an authentic joy in Sam's smile and laugh that day and his words which echoed through my mind that afternoon: "It's good to be seen."

          I wonder how many had "seen" Sam that day? I wonder how many of us see Sam any day - in this town, or the next?   I wonder if Sam's words aren't an expression of every human being's desire - just to be seen, recognized, an acknowledgement of existence?  I try to remember that whenever I get where I'm going.  Whoever I find there probably just wants the same thing too.  "It's good to be seen."

Letter to a friend

I hope it’s okay that I’m writing. You’ve been in my thoughts and prayers for many months now and I felt led to offer a word of encouragement as you embark on a new beginning.

I’ve never dealt “personally” with the demons of addiction but I have known it in my own family. While I don’t know how it truly feels to wrestle with something like that day by day or hour by hour, I must say you came to mind as I prayed a prayer our DS recently shared with me.

In the new year I do not wish for you
that God will bless you,
since God already intends
only the deepest blessings for you.
I don't wish that good things will happen to you,
since I don't know
what will most beautifully shape your soul—
in what losses you will receive grace,
in what challenges you will gain wisdom,
in what struggles you will become more truly yourself.

It speaks a truth of uncertainty and admits that I don’t know “in what losses you will receive grace, in what challenges you will gain wisdom, in what struggles you will become more truly yourself.” And, it even proposes a scandalous idea that somehow there is blessing in our deepest valley and driest desert.

Never presuming to have walked in your shoes, I do however believe there is some truth to that prayer and idea. Perhaps on this side of the coin and the start of the new year, you too look back at those moments (as I often do) and find yourself pondering the question - “why?” Sometimes, I think I’ll never know and I’ve learned to be okay with that. And sometimes, I’ve found, as the prayer suggests, that those struggles have made me more truly myself.

I imagine David, the one whom OT writers identify as a person after God’s own heart, found himself asking the “why” question a great deal as well. Why he was to be king, why Saul hated him, why he couldn’t build the temple, why he could succumb to temptation so easily? You wouldn’t think of him as a man with uncertainty given the brash boldness he displays against a giant as young boy. With one swing of a sling and a pebble, he crushes an entire army. But, David is not always that certain.

We all have our own giants to face and most of them are not defeated with simply a quick swing of a sling. In the 61st Psalm, a psalm attributed to David, we find a much more uncertain and overwhelmed David. Here, he begins from a place of weakness and deep distress – from the end of the earth. Rock bottom. That’s the David I know more easily. Not simply a David crowned hero for his ability to wield a rock, but rather who knows what it’s like to hit rock bottom. And here’s the best part. This larger than life character, known the world over for what he did with a rock, cries out “lead me to the rock that is higher than I.”

I am so grateful for the points of light that are brightening your life this year. I’m proud of you for standing up to your giants. You are not alone. And my prayer for you in the months and years ahead are the exact words of David: “Lead me to the rock that is higher than I.”

God love you as He always has. And God use you up, day by day, for real ministry in His world. In the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit. Amen.

There and back again

Hello blog. Fancy meeting you here. :)
On March 27, 2011 life changed in a big way. I welcomed my daughter into the world in the wee hours of that morning. Since then, you can tell I've done very little in the way of posts. However, yesterday I had a spark that nudged me to return again. I've always been enriched in sharing a few thoughts in writing (even if no one else is reading). So, starting this month, expect to see some new posts very soon. Until then, may those to whom love is a stranger find in you a generous friend.