Spiritual Lessons from lawn mowing

I know that y’all know that I am a bit challenged when it comes to cooking and basically, anything that has to do with a kitchen. But I used to pride myself on the fact that I was good with mechanical stuff. Well, not any more. There is an old saying that pride goes before the fall. I must admit, the riding mower at the parsonage took my pride away a couple of weeks ago. You see, it was like this. The grass was as high as an elephant’s eye. The men of the church had been sweethearts mowing the lawn for me, but it was time for me to stand on my own two feet and take care of that which the congregation had entrusted me with. So off I go out to the shed to start the mower. Now I know that Danny Hill had just tuned up the mower. I just had to figure out how to start it. There was a little knob that you were supposed to turn to start it. Sounds easier than it was. You see I always thought that a choke was a wrestling hold, and a throttle was something your mom threatened to do to you when she was mad at you. So, when I couldn’t get the mower to start, and I called Danny Hill on the cell phone for help, hearing him say adjust the choke and the throttle was of no help what so ever. Poor Danny is probably thinking that crazy preacher girl is going to kill herself on the mower. I’m thinking, I should stop before I cut something off that I need. Lesson #1 – when you don’t know what you are doing, call an expert. He will verify that you don’t know what you are doing.

Danny talked me through getting the mower started (via the cell phone), and I know he had to be laughing his head off, trying to tell me what to do with each thingajobber to make it start, but it roared to life and I said, “Ok Danny, I got it now.” I was off to the races. It is a wonder that the neighbors didn’t bring out lawn chairs to watch the free entertainment. I did mention the grass was as high as an elephant’s eye didn’t I? Super efficient Ellen decides to set the mower at the lowest setting. Cut it way back and then I might not have to cut it so often. It seemed logical. Unfortunately, this was a bit much for the mower to handle. I was leaving enough grass behind me in piles that we really needed a hay baler to pick it up. Meanwhile, the mower was making this screeching sound that I just tried to ignore. It’s old. My knees screech every time I bend them, but they still work. I found I was paying too much attention to the screeching sound and should have been watching the terrain more. Actually, I should have walked the lot before I mowed it. I would have known then that while the grass seemed all the same height, by the power lines there was actually a bit of a ditch. A rapidly falling 1 foot deep and wide ditch. Just enough to get the mower stuck in and almost flipped over. You guessed it. I got stuck in the ditch. I found myself singing “Deep and Wide” for no particular reason, other than it was better than crying. There is a strange joy that you get when you finally get out of a ditch. It’s was a victory celebration that occurred after I constantly switched gears and the mower limped out of the ditch. Not something you want to do everyday, but a victory none the less. Lesson #2 – Before you start a job, always walk the terrain and look out for ditches and vole moles that will turn your ankles and ruin your day. No matter how much you think you know the ground because you have been there before, still walk it and look for surprises.

I celebrated not having to call a tow truck, and not being on the front page of the Eastern Wake news ("Preacher stuck in ditch - news at 11). Soon I was back to cutting the lawn. Then, this wonderful red truck drives up, with the driver shaking his head and trying not to laugh. Danny said “Preacher Girl you’re a mess.” OK, maybe I was, but…. What kind of way is that to start a conversation? He said he wanted to make sure I didn’t kill myself on “that thing” before he went to the beach for the weekend. Frankly, I appreciated his concern. At least someone would have found me pinned under the mower if I had flipped it in the ditch. I think Danny also wanted a laugh. But that’s just a hunch. So he said, “Preacher Girl, let me watch you drive that thing.”

I thought “I’m going to show him. I’ve got the hang of this.” I cranked it into 4th gear, lowered the cutting blade, sat up proudly, and drove. The mower goes really, really fast in 4th, and starts off like a bucking bronco. I almost lost my hat and my seat when it kicked into gear. Danny was just shaking his head as I went roaring by and on the next lap, he stopped me and said “Slow down!” I admit that confused me. The only thing fun about mowing the lawn was the speed! Danny’s next words were Lesson #3 – You have to slow down if you are going to cut the grass right, and you can’t cut it all at once.

Danny was right. Slow down. Cut it over and over until you get it to the right length. I think my grass mowing adventure applies to more than grass mowing. When in doubt, talk to an expert. Know the terrain before you start moving in high speed. Slow and easy is better than fast.
Psalm 86:15 says “But you, O Lord, are a God merciful and gracious, slow to anger and abounding in steadfast love and faithfulness.” God seems slow, but is consistent. God doesn’t cut us off at the roots and leave the scraps on the ground to be baled. God is the expert to talk to, and directs us to other experts. God wants to direct us around the terrain that God sends us to minister to. God is slow to anger and abounding in steadfast love and faithfulness. God cares if I get stuck in a ditch and has numerous ways for me to get out of the ditch. God has a sense of humor, and often sends experts with a sense of humor to bail us out of trouble. Grass can grow back, damaged lawns can be fixed. God helps us grow and helps us fix the stuff we damage. Thanks be to God.

The least among us

Yesterday when Maggie and I were taking our early morning walk (ok it’s her walk, I’m just along to supervise) we encountered a visitor. It was a little white with grey blotches dog who obviously had been living on the streets for a while. A neighbor pointed him out to me as he came running towards us. Since rabies is widespread in this part of the country, I’m not near as friendly to strays as I was when I was a child. However, I still must generate a “I’m a soft touch, come play with me” aura because every stray cat and dog in the world seems to come see me. The neighbor said that she had been leaving water out, but it was obvious that the poor pup was just skin and bones. Yet, he was friendly and wanted to meet me, sniff Maggie, and he followed us all the way home to the parsonage. By this time, my heart is melting. However, I’m not going to let a flea ridden dog into the parsonage, as the fleas would take over in a matter of minutes. I had a doctor’s appointment to get to. What to do?? Fortunately I had a couple of extra bowls and filled one with water and one with food and put it out for the dog.

Talk about appreciative! He even showed me his belly. He walked into the garage and curled up. He tried to stop the car from leaving the garage. This was not good. The little guy was going to get run over by the soft touch preacher girl. It took some work, but I got him out of the way and went off to my full day of appointments. However, I couldn’t get the little guy out of my mind. As the day progressed, I was picking out names for him. I even was picturing him all cleaned up, brushed, and ready for a new home. I even knew another preacher girl in Cary the home that would love Rocky (yes, I thought the little guy needed a tough name that indicated what a survivor he was) as well as a loving home in the Bent Tree subdivision in Ocean Isle that would love a lap dog. I made up my mind that if he was still on the deck when I got home, he was going to the vet to see if he had a chip embedded in him. If not, I was going to get him his shots, shaved, and bring him home temporarily at least with Maggie and me. He was already neutered.


I was disappointed. Rocky was not home when I got home that evening. He was not there this morning either. Did I miss my chance to save a little one or was I just called to offer a cup of water and a bowl of food to a creature in distress? I guess I will never know. I do know that the thought of a new friend for Maggie and me, and the knowledge of several homes that would benefit from the unconditional love of a dog brought me comfort.


All this about a stray dog. Oh that we would love and think about the stray, homeless people as much as I thought about that dog. Unconditional love – that’s the calling of a Christian. I have a lot to learn. Thanks be to God for teaching me through a dog.

Settling In

Settling in. Those are two wonderful words to describe the last month of my life. July 25th I will have been in Wendell for exactly one month. One can tell a lot about a church by the way it welcomes its new pastor. I was blessed to have my adopted moms from Seaside help pack me up, and my sisters at Wendell to unpack me. If it wasn’t for those wonderful church members, I would still be living out of my suitcase, the dog would be sick from my anxiety, and I would be a mess. Not that I’m not a mess, but that’s a different story. How exactly does one settle in? Many would say it is the unpacking and decorating that gets one settled. I think they are wrong. For me, I am settled when I feel I am loved. I can live out of boxes forever. I am very unsettled without friends. The move has been a blessing because I carry my friends from Sunset Beach in my heart, in my cell phone, and in my email address book The move has been a blessing as I have reconnected with the people who supported my call to ministry from IBM, Cary, and Wendell. I am blessed. My prayers for my ministry here are simple. I want to receive God’s wisdom so I know how to lead Wendell where God wants. On moving day, the church bought 17 acres to build on in the future. That’s a lot of land. That’s a sign of God moving in the congregation. So as I settle in, part of my call is to help lead a congregation to move out in mission and ministry in this location and in a new location in the future. That’s exciting and unsettling. Perhaps as I attempt to settle in, God is telling me that a Christian should never be too settled. Is it possible that the more we settle in, the harder it is to respond to God’s call to be flexible and go where God sends us? What do you think? Does God call us to get settled in?

Twittering in church??? Give me a break

I read on the Ruach mailing list today about pastors that encourage their parishioners to twitter in church. Thirty years ago someone would have thought that was dirty. Today, we know twitter to be a social networking tool. It lets you keep in touch with what your friends are doing via short messages. It's like the status line on facebook. As geeky and computer trendy as I am, I must admit that communicating via twitter in church is the stupidest thing I have ever heard of. I guess I am officially an old fogie now. Suffice it to say that when I am preaching, I would like your attention to the words I have prayed and obsessed over for weeks in advance. Yes, I would love your feedback, but wait until after the sermon when you have had time to digest what I said, and God has had some time to work on your heart. Twittering during church is as distracting as texting while driving.

Maybe I need to put my sermons up on the blog each week and let discussions happen there, but please, please don't do it during the church service!

Grace and Peace,
Ellen
PS Here is what Curtis Honeycutt has to say on the matter: http://justwallpaper.wordpress.com/2009/05/04/4-reasons-to-stop-twittering-in-church/

The value of girlfriends

It was an unusual Saturday night. I went out. I never do that on Saturday night. Saturday nights are spent making sure everything is ready for Sunday, and trying to just rest up. But I wasn’t preaching on Sunday and this was a Sunday school class party to celebrate Karen’s birthday. Since I never get to attend Sunday School, this sounded like the party to attend! As I pulled up to Carol’s house, Karen pulled up and parked in front of me. She got out of her house, and something looked wrong. She was in a trenchcoat with a scarf on her head and curlers in her hair. Bedroom slippers adorned her feet. Something was up. Either I was overdressed or Karen had lost her mind. We walked into Carol’s together, and everyone celebrated her arrival. Karen looked around and saw she was the only one in her nightie. It seems the Sunday School class had told her this was a girls night out, slumber party style. It was a good laugh and Karen is a great sport. I started to think about the power of girlfriends. We all have the emails that talk about how girlfriends are with us for our whole lives, and how thankful we should be for those friends. They have a way of making us laugh when we are down, crying with us, and then fixing our makeup when the boo hoo is over. They can hug us, and kick us when we need a good swift kick. Girlfriends and God have a lot in common. God helps us to laugh at ourselves (like when we are so nervous at a new church our dress is on inside out), created the tear ducts that allow flowing tears to heal us, and inspires us to live the life of discipleship. God will never leave us. I’m glad God created girlfriends, and that I learned never to trust Dina about how to dress for a party. Blogspot is giving me grief about uploading photos. Stay tuned.
God bless,
Ellen

Why Ash Wednesday?

Finally -- a question in my anonymous questions envelope outside of my office! Thank you Anonymous! The question is "When did the placing of Ashes on Ash Wednesday start? I never went to a church that had it until Seaside? Where is it in the Bible?

These are all great questions. As a lifelong United Methodist, I don't remember going to Ash Wednesday, Maundy Thursday, or Good Friday services until I was in high school. Those were things my Roman Catholic friends and family did. Sometimes I felt a little bit jealous, but that is a subject for another entry. Ash Wednesday does not appear in the Bible as such. It has come through centuries of church tradition. First, let's look at the use of ashes in the bible. Jeremiah 6:26 tells the people to repent and roll in ashes, symbolic of their repentance. Isaiah 58:5 says that sackcloth and ashes really don't cut it when it comes to repentance, but his very mentioning of the practice indicates that it was a common practice for Jews. The prophet Daniel (9:3) fasted, wore sackcloth and ashes when trying to convince God to rescue Israel. Finally, the king of Nineveh was so convicted by Jonah's preaching that he repented and sat in ashes. So ashes have been associated with repentance for a long time. Jesus mentions the use of ashes with respect to repentance in Matthew 11:21 and Luke 10:13
The earliest reference to Ash Wednesday that I know of is from the year 960. Prior to that time, the church had a ritual that involved ashes for the Order of Penitents. Those who had really messed up confessed their sins to the bishop or his representative, and then assigned penance that had to be performed over a set time period. When they completed their assignment, the bishop would pray a prayer of absolution in public over them. However, for the time period between the confession and absolution, the penitents sat in a designated area of the church, and wore special clothes that indicated their status. Over time, the Order of the Penitents disappeared (can you imagine me telling a parishioner that they messed up and had to sit in the corner?), and the Lent rituals appeared.
The church season of Lent became a time to acknowledge our sins, and repent. Ash Wednesday is the first day of Lent. The book of worship says it best so I'll quote (p 321) " The use of ashes as a sign of mortality and repentance has a long history in Jewish and Christian worship, and the Imposition of Ashes can be a powerful nonverbal and experiential way of participating in the call to repentance and reconciliation. ... It is traditional to save the palm branches from the previous Palm Sunday service and burn them ahead of time to produce the ashes for this service." I like to remember the funeral liturgy where we say ashes to ashes, dust to dust. The ashes are a sign of our mortality.
With the Protestant reformation, many of the Roman Catholic liturgies were discarded. basically, we threw out the baby with the bath water. Over time, with intense theological reflection, the seasons of the Christian year, and these symbolic acts in the seasons help us to remember the gospel story, confess our sins, and accept God's forgiveness. The pastor may say as they put the ashes on your forehead "Remember that you are dust and to dust you shall return" or "Repent and believe the gospel." I prefer the later saying.
I hope this answered your question. Keep those questions coming!
Ellen

First post to a new blog

I've spent the last hour trying to get control of my old blog (www.ellenmcc.blogspot.com). It seems like I am in a circular loop. The old blog was established under an old email id which is no longer available to me. So, blogspot keeps trying to send email to a dead mailbox. Someday I'll recapture my Holy Land blog to put out here. In the meantime, here we go again. I wonder if God feels this way sometimes. We get close to God as youth, and then forget to talk for a while. We come back to God, and have difficulty getting the communication started and often do not know where to go for help. Thanks be to God that God reaches out to us, versus google help, which doesn't seem to be letting me ask any questions right now!