I believe

In preparation for a worship series this fall inspired by the NPR series This I Believe, I've been thinking a lot about my faith and how it has evolved over the past 9 years since my ordination.  Here's where I am now:

I believe that God created the world in all its mystery and beauty, and in the culmination of creation, made us in God's own image.  As such, we are co-creators, tasked with the responsibility of the ongoing re-creation, renewal, and nurturing of our world.

I believe that God is bigger and yet closer than we will ever understand.  Our attempts to get a grasp on who God is sometimes results in us making God in our image and limits the vastness of God, or neglects the intimacy God shares with us.

I believe God is Love, and is, by nature, welcoming to all.  I believe God loves us all as God's dearly beloved creation, and seeks relationships with us, calling us to become children of God.

I believe that Jesus is the incarnation of God, the greatest example of that Love and the steps that God takes to be present with us.  Jesus was divine and human.  As he lived on earth, he was an example to us on how to live in relationship with God and with others through his radical hospitality and compassion, as he also fiercely challenged the religious systems and leaders of his day, a challenge that still echos today.  In his sacrificial death, he showed us the extent of God's love, the forgiveness of our sins, and the hope of eternal life.  His invitation was simply, "Follow me", and he pointed to the greatest commandments: "Love God.  Love one another".

I believe the Gospel is the good news that God continues to reach out and embrace us, broken and sinful though we are.  Through the many sources of God's revelation and presence (God's Word, the prophets, Jesus, the Holy Spirit, and our personal and communal experiences and relationship), God calls us to be reconciled and connected to the Love that is always present for all those who seek it.

I believe that we each have unique gifts to share as the body of Christ and as God's creations, and our diversity is a strength.  We serve in different ways but towards the same purpose.  When we listen to one another, we understand how we are united in our common mission, and how our similarities far outweigh our differences.  When we serve one another out of respect, we learn more about the greatness of God.

I believe that we are given the freedom to seek God (or not), and that we are all created with a desire to seek meaning and purpose that comes from our innate connection to the Divine.  Our own creativity and gifts are part of that Divine spark, and our passions and gifts point us to our calling.  We discover our vocation as we find what makes us feel more alive, and how we can use our skills to serve others.

I believe that we each have the freedom and the understand and interpret God's revelation to us through our reading of scripture, prayer, and the experiences we've been given.  I believe that faith is deeply personal, but is also meant to be lived out in community so that we can find support and boundaries as we live out the command to love our neighbors as ourselves.  I believe that we are all neighbors, and have the God-given responsibility to love and care for one another, in spite of our differences.

I believe that I don't have all the answers and my beliefs may not all be "correct", but growing in faith is a journey that continues throughout our lives as God is continually revealed to us in new ways.  I will never have it all figured out, and I pray that I will never believe that I do.  I believe that God is revealed to others in different ways and that doesn't necessarily make them wrong or right, but gives us another framework in which to think about God.

I believe that people are lead to faith not through arguments or condemnation, but through relationships of mutual sharing, understanding, and love.  I believe that faith is a relationship with God, but also concerns how we live in relationship with others.  I believe that it is a commitment that requires community.

I believe that God is in all things if we have the eyes to see.

I believe because God's love has been my comfort, my hope, and my salvation, and the only thing that has gotten me through the most difficult points in my life, as well as the source of my greatest blessings.

Birth pangs in an empty womb

The sonogram was blank, as I expected it to be.  Any other result would have defeated the purpose of my OB-GYN visit to implant a new birth control device.  And yet, it was a little jarring as it triggered memories of other ultrasound visits, both joyous and anxious as we viewed snapshots of the life within, and growth was measured in the tiniest of increments.  I thought of friends who have recently experienced the devastating grief of miscarriage, those who long to have children and don't, and many other friends who are currently pregnant.  I grieve and celebrate with them, knowing both loss and blessing.  As for me now, I feel somewhat stuck in the middle.  I have chosen this spot and am grateful to have a choice in the size of my family, as I realize that many hope and dream and plan in vain.  After struggling through infertility for a couple of years and then experiencing the miracle of pregnancy (and the trauma of delivery) twice, I don't take it for granted.

The doctor warns there will be a little pinch, and some cramping (which is doctor-speak for intense and enduring pain), but it seems somewhat appropriate that I spend the day feeling like I did the day of Brady's birth, not knowing then that my cramps were actually the beginning contractions of labor.
We experience birth pangs in the strangest of places:  in those transitions of life between beginnings and endings, those times of uncertain change, and in the relentless march through the stages of life.  We feel the pain in the death of dreams that we didn't realize we had.  We mourn the loss of things not turning out like the picture in our mind.  We feel the bittersweet tug of dreams that have come true, and realize that they, too, are fleeting.  There is a time for everything, even surrender, and the great truth of parenthood is that it's more about letting go than holding on.

While John and I initially dreamed of a larger family, the realities of parenting two amazing yet demanding children often exceeds the resources (patience, time, space, finances) that we feel we have to offer.  That, along with the memory of our fear of losing both of them and me during their emergency deliveries was enough to bring us to a consensus in the hospital room after Maryn's birth that she would, God-willing, be our last baby.  I thought I would grieve that loss as she has grown, but I've celebrated the milestones of her growing independence and have been content to rid our home of the baby equipment as each stage has passed.  And yet, sometimes I'm hit with the reality that a phase of my life is over.  My increasing doctors' appointments these days are about illness and prevention, not new life.  Although thirty-six doesn't feel that old, in the closing of this door, it seems like I'm now on the downward part of my journey.

Although we never know with certainty what is ahead, in the earlier phases of my life, I knew what steps I was working towards...education, marriage, career, family.  My identity has been tied up in these roles and will continue to be.  But the blank screen of the ultrasound machine foreshadows the blank page ahead.  While it is not as intimidating as it would have been to me earlier in my life, the unknown does bring pangs of fear.  What will be birthed in me in the coming years, and what do I have to deliver to the world?  Can I hold on to the dream that there is new life still within me, that I have gifts to offer beyond nurturing my own children as their needs change and their dependence on me lessens?  Even when it hurts, will I have the grace to let go and let them become who God, not I, created them to be?

 I consider that the sufferings of this present time are not worth comparing with the glory about to be revealed to us. For the creation waits with eager longing for the revealing of the children of God; for the creation was subjected to futility, not of its own will but by the will of the one who subjected it, in hope that the creation itself will be set free from its bondage to decay and will obtain the freedom of the glory of the children of God. We know that the whole creation has been groaning in labour pains until now; and not only the creation, but we ourselves, who have the first fruits of the Spirit, groan inwardly while we wait for adoption, the redemption of our bodies. For in hope we were saved. Now hope that is seen is not hope. For who hopes for what is seen? But if we hope for what we do not see, we wait for it with patience.

 Likewise the Spirit helps us in our weakness; for we do not know how to pray as we ought, but that very Spirit intercedes with sighs too deep for words. And God, who searches the heart, knows what is the mind of the Spirit, because the Spirit intercedes for the saints according to the will of God.

 We know that all things work together for good for those who love God, who are called according to his purpose. For those whom he foreknew he also predestined to be conformed to the image of his Son, in order that he might be the firstborn within a large family. And those whom he predestined he also called; and those whom he called he also justified; and those whom he justified he also glorified. (Romans 8:18-30)

Beloved

He's been a part of my life for 13 years now, 11 of them as my husband, and I can't remember who I was before him.  The number seems small in relation to the impact he's had on my life.  He has been such an affirming, supportive presence that has encouraged me to grow into who I am now, and who we are together.  We can joke around with the line, "You complete me," but there's a truth in it that's different from the sappy idea that we were not whole before.  Instead, I've learned that our completeness as a couple comes from challenging each other to be our best selves, and ultimately accepting the reality of who we are.  I am most at home in myself with him, as he sees me, faults and all, and embraces me.  With him, I can put away the masks, let down my defenses, and be completely broken, healed, vulnerable, strong, beloved.

I give him most of the credit for the seamless flow of our lives.  It is his sense of humor, his strength that carries us through the day to day monotony into the moments of joy.  He is my partner, my rock, and my best friend, and I find my greatest sense of pride in that he sees me in the same ways.

We've been through richer and poorer, and sickness and health, and have learned that our bond is not based on our circumstances, but instead, that our love can transform them.

Today, we'll likely spend our anniversary referring the same fights between the kids, eating out at a family-friendly establishment, working (as at least one of us has done for nearly every anniversary), and sighing over how every day is the same.  But we'll say it with a smile, because we wouldn't want it any other way.