Brian Doerksen

I continue to catch myself grieving the loss of Brian Doerksen. He was not just someone who came one weekend in February to play at Butler Church, but was formative in my love for worship through his gentle spirit, authentic words, timeless voice, creative cinematography and expressive worship style since way back in my junior high years. In many ways, Brian's music has been one of many threads that have been woven into my lifestory.

Monday night, after I had read the updated news that Brian was being made comfortable - ready to meet his Savior, I couldn't sleep. 

I came downstairs, picked up my guitar and began playing some of my favorite Brian Doerksen songs, "Faithful One" "Eternity" "Refiner's Fire" "Father Me" "Psalm 121 (I Lift My Eyes Up)." So many of my favorite songs came from this man's genius and connection to the Spirit of God. I am deeply saddened at his passing, but also so, so grateful that these gifts of his songs and the memory of his voice remain with me. 

In 1990, I led my first worship song with Brian Doerksen's, "Refiner's Fire." It was the summer of my freshman year and my musical interest was shifting from classical (reading sheet music) to contemporary worship leading (aka: playing by chords). I had been on a Mexico mission trip that summer with Fresno Pacific College and Butler Church and discovered no one knew how to play the piano with the guitar music (the only music available to the group). I came home determined to master chords and inversions so I could play along with the guitarist.

My high school summers consisted of attending the Vineyard's week-long worship conferences, year-after-year, sitting in worship workshops, taking oodles of notes, and spending hours of worship with Brian and a variety of worship leaders from the Vinyeard movement. Such sweet memories.

Brian Doerksen's voice is one I can pick out from a crowd.

When my brother, sister and I began leading worship regularly at the Fresno Vineyard, we would play Brian's songs. He wrote his songs in excellent keys (well...except for Refiner's Fire which originally came out in E!). His songs also had a tension of depth of simplicity making them excellent songs to worship. He also involved Cindy Rethmeir and Daphne Radmaker to sing harmony with him which gave my sibling-worship team beautiful worshippers to follow as our passion for worship music continued to grow and develop.

The '90's was full of Refiner's Fire (1990), Light the Fire Again (1994), and Eternity (1994). I was leading worship as a freshman at Fresno Pacific when Light the Fire Again had just come out. I brought along my new CD and remember excitedly introducing it to my team - they loved it! (especially the unique drum entrance and the way his rhythm guitar would add that lovely rhythm). 

Then Brian released an album that paved a way to a live-musical, The Father's House (1995). As a commuter, I remember driving to and from school blasting the songs from The Father's House album as I drove. "There must be a place where dreams come true..." A story about the love of a Father - check it out, it's amazing! 

Brian went through a tough loss attempting to produce and release The Father's House. He recalled walking at night, praying, searching for God's direction in the midst of this dark night. It hurts for an artist to pour so much of themselves into a project that can't seem to get off the ground.

As he walked, he heard the melody for, "Come, Now is the Time to Worship" (1998) a reminder to us all that worship is not something we do only when everything is going right in our world. Though it's a fairly upbeat song, he wrote this song at one of the most difficult moments of his life. Let us follow Brian's lead and worship even in this hard time as well. I remember dancing around my house with my baby girl, Anna. She particularly loved this song - especially the sax solo!

The 2000's kept bringing more music with "Halleljuah" (Your Love is Amazing), in partnership with Brenton Brown.

I remember being at either a worship conference or pastor's conference when I first heard Brian play, "Creation Calls" (not sure the year). His keyboard patch came on and transported us to the horizon of Canada where he pictured for us Canadian geese flying south, crashing waves, running streams, and a night full of stars - "quiet, quiet, creation at rest." Brian had such a beautiful way with words and music to capture his listeners attention and guide them through an entire experience of music, senses and sound. "I love to stand on ocean's shore and feel the thundering breakers roar..."

Brian kept producing, but I stepped out of the Vineyard and leading worship and didn't keep up on Brian or his most recent songs. During COVID, the Vineyard began posting 30-minutes of worship everyday and Brian again entered my orbit. Brian participated in a few of these worship sets with his acoustic guitar and matchless voice which calmed our anxiousness and anchored our souls to the peace and presence of Jesus. He had such a way of escorting us into the presence of God. His compassionate explanations of songs and lyrics, intermixed with interludes and preludes, painted musical pictures. I felt carried by his music and his words.  

Then I got an invitation to a worship night last November. The worship leader? Brian Doerksen. I was SO excited to participate in a style of worship that touches the center of my being.

Brian sung many of my favorites and introduced us to many more. My favorite three new songs he sung were:

• Everlasting Arms https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=-7VMjKOHZSE
• Shelter https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=EiETS-WoMw0
• Psalm 13 (How Long Oh Lord) https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=bsybwJiCv9E

When the worship had ended, I decided to be brave and wait in line to tell Brian how much I appreciate his music and how formative he has been to my faith and worship development. Bret said I totally "fan-girled" being way too star-struck! Ha! Brian and I hit it off and I even met his friend, Marika Siewert! After some back-and-forth texting and emails, Brian and Marika were set for another visit to Fresno - this time coming to Butler Church and Fresno Pacific University!

I did my best not to swoon when I picked Brian up in Frebruary to drive him and Joyce, his wife, to FPU for Capax Dei. Was it even possible that Brian Doerksen was in my passenger seat!?!

But I could tell he was not 100%. He shared he's been in pain for a while now with no answers. The plan was to lead worship for the college students and then I'd drop him off at the hospital so he could have some tests run. He performed again the next day for a local school and then led a worship night at Butler Church on Saturday. I was on cloud 9 having him with us, but he was in great pain. They had a trip planned to head to Arizona to put to music some of the hymns from the First Nations Bible. Instead, they drove back to Canada - his pain was just too much.

I cannot express my deep sadness at his loss. I had hoped he would come back to Fresno and we could chat some more and maybe even worship together - maybe taste the chai latte he was bragging about making. I feel like I've lost a childhood friend. Though he just met me in November, I've known him for decades. I will always treasure his voice, his rhythm acoustic guitar, his piano music, his passion for God's presence, his creative storytelling and his inclusive, kind, encouraging presence. We have lost a great man. I am grateful for the gifts of worship he leaves behind and his role in forming me into the worshipper I am today. 

Thank you for the music, Brian. Thank you for sharing your pain - for being vulnerable with your whole self. Your music and your voice will always be with me.

Sadly Resting

*** Originally written 4/21/23

I'm a fairly private person. I love to pray for others and help others but I often omit my own struggles and needs which creates a one-way relationship with many people who attempt to to befriend me. I've become a professional at handling things on-my-own, and not "bothering others" with my problems or disappointments.

I encountered a situation today in which I have been debating: Do I write about it? Or do I keep it to myself?

I decided to write about it below. If I offend you, be offended. Since this is my blog, I am going to write regardless of who I offend.

I stepped out of my comfort zone two months ago and applied for a two-year cohort at the Transforming Community with Ruth Haley Barton in Illinois. I wouldn't move to Illinois, but would travel there eight times over the course of the two years, experiencing and learning about spiritual practices to better stay connected to Jesus. 

Of all the subjects on my bookshelf, spiritual formation is one that is near and dear to my heart. I've always wanted to spend more time developing the skills to help people connect with God, experience the presence of Jesus and listen to the voice of the Spirit. Some of my favorite writers are Dallas Willard, Henri Nouwen, Richard Rohr, Ruth Haley Barton, Robert Mulholland, Adele Calhoun, and Peter Scazzero. I have some favorite theologians too, but the names above are writers in whose books I tend to read multiple times because they're not only informational, they're also transformational. 

The program was going to cost a bit more money that I was comfortable about so I began thinking about ways to raise money. I thought a super-fun way to raise some extra funds would be to have a garden sale with all the proceeds going toward my spiritual formation experience. 

My son-in-laws mother gave me a huge collection of succulent cuttings. My mother-in-law gave me some pretty pots, my daughter and son-in-law kept my plants alive while I've been traveling, I divided perennials, and planted vegetable seeds into 6-packs - I literally planted seeds in the hope of offsetting the cost of my next adventure.

My application was received in mid-March and then the wait began to see if I would be chosen.

I wrestled for the definition of "chosen" and tried my best to not get too hopeful. 

The trick was that in order for me to have a garden sale, I needed to get planting before I heard if I was accepted into the program or not. I got to work and planting and dividing. 

I tried to keep my emotions in check.

I tried to not get my hopes up.

The more my plants grew, the more my hope grew.

Today I received word that I was not accepted. 

Was it because my title is one of "Children's Pastor" and not a "Lead Pastor?" No.

Was it because I'm too old or too young? No.

Was it because the program is too full? No.

Oddly enough, it is because I am a woman.

I have to be honest - I'm really struggling with this. 

From my perspective, men have the world at their fingertips. Anything and everything is offered to them. 

Want to be a high executive - go for it. 

Want to be a Lead Pastor of a church - go for it. 

Want to lead a missionary trip to a country oversees - go for it.

I didn't get in because they want to make space for more men to be able to attend. 

Logically - I understand. 

Spiritually - it's a low jab for a woman who has been told her ENTIRE LIFE that I am not enough, not the 'right' gender - and now it continues. 

I get it. Maintaining a male/female balance is important. But really? 

I would have rather my rejection was due to anything else but gender. 

(I did contact the Transforming Center and fought for myself - which I don't typically do - and was allowed to participate.)

Reflective Ramblings about Abuse & Power

** Written 4/21/25 but too scared to publish until today.

Yesterday was Easter Sunday and it was my first time to preach the Resurrection story - TO ADULTS! 

I didn't take this lightly.

I have been silenced enough times in my ministry to know the gift to preach on this special day!

I am, and will probably always be, recovering from emotional and psychological abuse at the hands of church leaders and power structures. For 13-years I worked in a church culture that oppressed voices, suppressed questions, and gave full-power to the 'man-at-the-top.' My abuse was never sexual, but because it was not sexual I did not classify it as abuse. My experiences, though shared more often by women on staff, also happened to men so it wasn't necessarily a male-female thing either. It was a power-thing. A power THAT SHOULD NOT be a characteristic of the Church!

I look back now and recognize that my love for the Church hindered my ability to recognize abusive structures and also inhibited me from being honest about my experiences. It kept me from calling people out for their actions and words. I had been gaslit for so long, I completely believed that everything was my fault.

Here are some reflections to aid my own healing as well as help others recognize signs that they may not be in a safe and healthy church environment. The good work of Sunday does not cancel mid-week abuse. I remember loving my Sunday ministry, everything from setting up to praying with people, I loved Sundays and I loved the people! Then the work-week would begin and my skin crawled and heart raced. This was not a healthy culture.

When I left, I chose to quietly slip away. I looked at the projectile of the church and recognized we were on the verge of a construction project which would attract attention and no doubt bring new growth. Moving into a permanent home would be a season of excitement and looking toward a new future. I knew the new church building could cast a shadow over my departure so I could slip away without being noticed and without hurting the church's future or reputation. 

Seven years later, I think back and am horrified at my accommodating posture which so intertwined church-abuse and God's Mission-in-the-world that I chose to protect an abusive structure rather than confront it. I chose to slip away silently rather than raise my voice. I wonder how many others have continued to be oppressed in this place.

But that's me TODAY being retrospective. 

Then I remember Connie in 2018, seven-years-ago, and I become less horrified and more sad. 

I remember my psychological, emotional, and physical health at that juncture in my life and remember I hardly had a voice left to use.

• I remember I was stuttering and would suddenly be unable to form sentences, especially under pressure and especially in certain people's presence. 
• I remember that my body kept breaking out in shingles. 
• I remember that I was using sticky notes everywhere because my brain was not working.
• I remember that my voice was literally quaking and growing quieter. 
• I remember feeling 'on-guard' at all times - like at any moment I would be attacked; ready to fight or flight at the drop of a hat.
• I remember I would physically shake and my heart would race when I parked my car, even before entering the office. I actually used a heart-monitor for a while for fear my heart was having problems.
• I remember I would pretend there was a waterfall between myself and my office doorway that would protect me.
• I remember I kept a baseball mitt on my desk to remind me to catch words that came in so I could consider the words before I allowed them to enter my heart - discarding the mean ones.
• I remember the loneliness of knowing I could not talk to anyone about what I was experiencing except my husband. (If I wanted to talk, I need to follow Matthew 18 guidelines of first confronting my boss which, of course, would spiral me into a panic).

No one asked why I was leaving. I was given no exit interview. People figured it was my choice to leave; I was the one 'grasping' for another opportunity so the decision was mine.

No one knew anything and no one wanted to know anything. Best to continue to charades, the system of oppression, 'for the glory of God.'

As I've been reading the accusations against Rick Joiner, I keep revisiting myself in 2018 wondering what else I could have done? What can a victim do? How does this ever change?

The frustrating reality is that when most people recognize the abuse and find courage to finally leave, we leave not just our jobs, but we also loose our communities. I read a quote from Danielle Strickland this morning that, honestly, is more frustrating than comforting:

"When you have to choose between allegiance to a powerful leader/friend or supporting a victim of abuse...you choose the victim. Every. Time."

That sounds nice but the reality is no one does this. AND if they do, they live a life of isolation and rejection. The Crowd of the Powerful is so large, the average person does not dare to mount an assault knowing the pathetic attempt will 100% fail and they will experience an even greater separation. To side with the victim means you will lose your friends, lose your community, and lose your reputation. AND the power-leader you leave will actually be given MORE power on your exit because he will amass a swell of sympathy from his community because of the 'meanness' (even though it was in silence!) of your departure. This structure is so incredibly toxic and disgusting. 

A few of my friends left when I left my church seven years ago. They chose to side with the victim (as Danielle would say). But our decisions left us outside community. 

People who "side" with the victim, really do feel for them and may even leave for a while, but our deep desire for community pulls people back in and we choose to ignore the abuse and power-structure for the sake of belonging.

Can Church ever be a place of belonging without the power-structure? 

As fickle people during Passion Week, the Crowd chose an insurrectionist and murderer over Jesus. The people of Israel wanted a king so they could be just like all the surrounding nations. Why does human nature chose power and oppression? Do we really think that is the only way?

Lord, hear my prayer. 

There has got to be another way... 

A Tragic Collision

Yesterday I left my house at 5:30 to drive to my parents for dinner.

When I turned onto Bullard heading toward Temperance I saw numerous emergency vehicles in the westbound lanes. Traffic going east (my direction) had slowed to a crawl and cars were hugging the southern most lane to stay out-of-the-way of whatever was happening in the other lanes. 

My daughter and her husband live at that intersection and were also meeting me for dinner at my parents. My heart dropped as I slowly scanned the people, the cars, the scene - looking to see if any of my kids' vehicles were involved. 

I noticed a handful of cars pulled over in the midst of all the ambulances and fire trucks, thankfully none of the cars belonged to my kids. Strangely, though, no cars looked damaged. There was no glass or car parts on the road. No real sign of collision. But yet there was a younger lady sitting on the curb bent over in grief, sitting with a few other people. Between her reaction and the amount of emergency personnel I knew I was missing something.

And then I saw him.

A young man lying in the road.

Professionals were performing active CPR on him. I could tell he was young by the size and type of his shoes. I've been certified in CPR enough times to hope I never have to perform it. I could feel the heaviness and urgency of this moment.

He was not "my son," but my compassion overwhelmed me and my wailing and fervent praying began. From deep within me my mother's cry rose up and could not be quieted. Tear flowed as I interceded on behalf of this teenager.

Ten years ago I held a mother as she wept for her son who had just been lost to suicide. 

If you've ever heard a mother's cry at the death of her child it is one like no other. It is a cry that resonates the ground, stops the earth from spinning, and pierces the soul. A sound that ignites a compassionate response from any human within sound-range. It is a horrible sound. I was praying for a miracle, but my 'grieving-mom' cry overwhelmed me. 

..................................................

On my way home, two hours later, the road was still blocked. 

It was now a crime scene.

The young man, who I learned later was riding his bicycle, did not survive his injuries. Lord, in Your mercy, be tangibly near this child's family. May they experience You through the love, support and compassion of people. Hold this child's mother, his father, his siblings. As we wait to learn his name, be close to his friends and peers as they begin their journey of grief.

.................................................

And then there is the driver. I am confident she was not driving with the intent to hit a bicyclist. What kind of weight must she be feeling? Lord, in Your mercy, surround this woman with a circle of support. May she not live forever in a prison of guilt - make a way for mercy.

.................................................

Two families collided yesterday, just before 5:30. Both families and their communities have been impacted. 

I find myself still heavy with sadness today for the life that has tragically ended and the other life that has also changed her course, carrying a life-long sentence of grief, guilt, and regret. 

I pray the compassion, forgiveness, and presence of Jesus, experienced through one another, would be woven through this story as time unfolds.

Please join with me in praying for the family, friends, and community of this young man and praying also for the driver. May they feel surrounded and supported in the face of tragedy. 

Ash Wednesday Encouragement

Ash Wednesday Encouragement for 2025

I have always been fascinated by the mysteries of God uncovered by women and men who create spiritual rhythms (even seasons like Lent and Advent) to help us step into these mysteries by giving us handles to guide us along the way.

The guides I have read and experienced around Ash Wednesday emphasize this idea of dust and its connection to Genesis 3:19 speaking the words, "For you are dust and to dust you shall return." (NASB)

During most Ash Wednesday services, participants are invited to receive the imposition of ashes - a time when ashes are wiped on a person's forehead or hand in the form of a cross accompanied by the words from Genesis, "For you are dust and to dust you shall return." In a very tangible way, this sign of the cross on our foreheads is an acknowledgement of our humanity and finitude. We all will again be dust. 

I did not attend a Catholic or Orthodox church growing up. In my early 30's, as a protestant, I wanted to explore different expressions of faith so I began attending Ash Wednesday services. It was a new practice for me in a strange church filled with people I did not know. As a recipient, I would sit through songs and liturgy and then, at the end, would receive the ashes with the verbal reminder that I will again return to dust. Then my day would continue as usual and I would mostly forget about the cross-shape on my forehead. I did this for years alone, being drawn into the mystery that is Ash Wednesday and the Lenten Season.

Seven years ago I was given the gift of bestowing the ashes for the first time in my own Protestant church. 

As the giver of the ashes this time, I noticed a change in my focus.

The symbol I formed on foreheads - the shape of the cross - began to hold more weight than the words. Participating in this Ash Wednesday practice as part of a community together meant that I didn't get my ashes and walk out the door, but I hung around and talked with people who also had crosses on their foreheads. Seeing the crosses on others, instead of simply hearing the words, opened my eyes to a new depth of Ash Wednesday that I hadn't before realized.

What my Ash Wednesday journey has taught me is this: The Good News of Ash Wednesday is not in the ashes, but is in the sign of the cross.

Oftentimes, creative pastors (like myself!) enjoy guiding people into these dark spaces of reflection to best feel and identify with the strong emotions of our frailty and brokenness evoked in these places. Especially in contexts where the dark, hard, and ugly things of life are swept under the carpet, intentionally stepping into these spaces is a good practice.

But what happens when we're in a season surrounded by darkness?

What about when we are feeling hopeless and discouraged?

How do our Ash Wednesday services hold us in these raw moments of life? 

The 'words of comfort' (to dust you will return) we so readily speak over people on Ash Wednesday are dooms-dayish and might possibly leave the participant hopeless and discourage if it is separated from the work of Jesus. Our Ash Wednesday observances MUST be experienced through the cross.

Ash Wednesday is not simply a cool, spiritual experience to add to a collection of experiences. No. This is an experience to help us drop low into the dust of the earth, connecting with our humanity, acknowledging our frailty, reminding us of our desperate need of a Savior, all the while knowing Jesus holds us in the palm of his hands and will not leave us in the dust.

I'm convinced our encouragement to step into these dark places can be crippling to people already in the dark if it is not linked to Jesus who can help guide us back out.

40-days is the time Jesus spent in the wilderness fasting and praying.

40-days is the time between Ash Wednesday and Easter (not including Sabbath/Sundays).

But 40-days is a long time in the dark.

As I reflect on the tension I feel between Ash Wednesday being a melancholy tradition and our hope found in Jesus Christ, the Spirit brought my attention to Ezekiel 37 - a story of bones. In this text, the Spirit of God brings the prophet Ezekiel out into the desert and shows him a valley of dry bones. The Spirit asks Ezekiel the question, "Son of man, can these bones live?"

Being smarter than most 21st-Century theologians, the wise Ezekiel answers, "Sovereign Lord, you alone know."

Within the next verses that transpire, the Spirit of God lifts these bones and ashes up from the ground. The Spirit attaches sinews, tendons, and muscle; covers the bodies with flesh and skin before finally breathing life into this giant army.

Years later, Jesus also died. Jesus let go of His Spirit on the cross and succumbed to the curse of death that all of us will one day confront. Jesus' body was laid in a tomb to endure the slow decomposing into dust - but something tremendously different and wonderful occurred.

Just like the army of bones Ezekiel saw in the Old Testament, Jesus also experienced the breath of God breathing life back into his bones.

The Spirit of God used Jesus' material matter of this earth and recycled him into a New Creation. One that looked like a gardener with fresh dirt under his fingernails; recognizably Jesus one minute and unidentifiable the next. The tomb was empty because resurrection uses up our earthly matter to transform us into a New Creation in Jesus Christ. Resurrection uses the 'stuff of earth.'

As I reflect on identifying with my humanity and the ashes to which I will one day return, I connect the hope I have in the resurrection and New Creation found with the salvific work of Jesus as part of my narrative. The ashes are in the shape of the cross, after all. The cross is a significant part of Ash Wednesday.

Celebrating Ash Wednesday, separated from the cross, is hopeless and morbid. 

Honoring Ash Wednesday as a way to lean into our humanity, we are held by the Cross that tempers our fear of tomorrow and gives us a grounding hope that returning to ash will not be the end of our story just as it was not the end of Jesus' story. Our hope is in Jesus and we are comforted with the reminder that God will make all things new.

What's my encouragement in all this rambling?

As you receive ashes today, let us remember the hope of the resurrection we have in Christ Jesus. Let's enter into the barrenness and darkness of the desert with Jesus as our guide this Lenten season with our ears open to hear the reminder of our humanity, but also our eyes open to see the hope of the cruciform on our foreheads/hands - reminders that from dust we shall indeed return...but dust is not the end of our story anchored in Jesus. 

I hope everyone sitting in darkness today will also choose to step into celebration on April 20th (Easter) when we celebrate Jesus' resurrection when God begins a recycling program of epic proportions!

Happy Ash Wednesday!

Practicing the Muscle of Thankfulness

Happy November!

For years I have tried to participate in the Facebook challenge to type something I am thankful for every day in the month of November. Typically in October, to save me time, I make a list of 30 things, people, experiences that have brought me joy or to whom I am thankful. Then I can easily, without even thinking, check off my list each day and add each item to my profile page.

This year, as I've been on a journey of slowing down and embodying my life, I have taken the "Be Thankful" booklet I created last year and paired it with a version of the spiritual practice of Examen.

Examen. The spiritual practice of Examen directs us to come to the end of our day and examen the ways we have partnered with Jesus, missed an opportunity to partner with Jesus, or did our own thing entirely. It is a chance to observe our day, giving ourselves permission to confess those things we did or didn't do. This practice is for the purpose of becoming more aware and attentive for God's activity with us and provides us a chance to realign ourselves in Christ with God before heading to bed. Each day, Examen helps us become a little more like Jesus. (This is a great way to prepare for sleep.)

This year, my challenge to myself (and others) is to put these two practices together in a way that helps us become more aware of the presence of God and the many gifts of our life to which we can be thankful.

Here's how this works: At the end of our day, examen our day, thinking back on what has occurred to which we can be thankful. I may have run into a friend I haven't seen, had an encounter with a stranger, tasted a delicious dish, smelled a fragrant flower, heard a unique piece of music, or seen a stunning bright orange leaf! The possibilities are endless! The challenge is to be aware of those things that catch our senses and quicken our hearts. What are the things that make us stop in the middle of our routine? What brings us joy?

For example, I could easily add my daughter Anna's name to my Facebook Challenge. Or...I can wait and watch for when we experience life together - meeting up for dinner, playing a game together, or sharing a croissant. Now writing Anna's name (and what we did together) in my book on that day is an embodied thankfulness, and not just a mental activity.

As we take up this challenge to daily examen our lives, we will discover that we become more awake during the day to the things, people, and experiences that can actually fill us with joy and gratitude - if we have eyes to see them.

A Note When Darkness Surrounds Us. In 1 Thessalonians 5:18, the apostle Paul writes, "...give thanks in all circumstances; for this is God's will for you in Christ Jesus..." Paul is not saying to give thanks for our circumstances, but in the midst of them. It is a human experience to have days in which we are at a loss for even one reason to be grateful. In the middle of loss (of a job, a loved one, identity), cancer treatment, or negative health diagnosis, for example, little gifts of God's goodness are still all around us, they just may be harder to see in the midst of our darkness. If we can learn to look for them (they may be small!) and be grateful, we will experience an enfolding of the peace of God and joy in the Spirit we didn't think was possible in our situation. Being grateful is food for our souls and an assault against the voices that attempt to diminish our belovedness and silence us into spaces of isolation and despair. 

May this month's thankfulness challenge open our eyes to the many, many blessings in our lives as we become more aware of the Spirit's daily interactions with us and become people of thankfulness. 

Peace.

"Give thanks to the Lord for he is good. His love endures forever."

P.S. The booklet is simply a place for us to keep a journal of our thankfulness. I have a few directions and scriptures to ponder, but you can do this challenge in your own journal without needing my particular booklet!

When Less is More

Today I am packing for my fifth retreat with the Transforming Community. 

The person who packed for her first retreat June 2023 was a very different person than the person who is packing today.

In June, my backpack weighed a TON. 

My neck got sore walking through the airports.

My backpack was too big to fit under the seat. I lost a lot of leg room and had a hard time managing around crowds of people on the plane and in the airport.

I packed:

• My laptop (my retreat last June was a week out from VBS so any idle time would be put to good use, plus I planned to take notes at the retreat).
• Pounds of snacks in plastic re-usable containers (trail mix, peanut butter pretzels, 2 cut apples, peanut butter to-go cases, peanut M&M's, fruit snacks - just in case I got hungry!)
• A variety of pens, pencils, and highlighters (for all my reading and note-taking).
• 5-books I wanted to read but still hadn't gotten the chance (my flight was going to be super-productive!)
• My NASB full-size Bible as well as two journals (one for reflection and one for notes).
• A lightweight jacket and knit cap (in case it rained)
• Sunglasses and ballcap (in case our plane landed somewhere unexpected and we had to walk a ways from the plane to the airport)
• Plus a handful of small traveling items like airpods and chargers.

Trust me, my backpack was a force to be reckoned with!

On my first retreat I discovered this was going to be a "tech-free" space. No laptops. That's okay, I was tired anyway. I also learned that I was not a travel snacker so all that food I packed was not touched. While I tried to read some books, I didn't get very far.

Each consecutive retreat, I've packed less-and-less. 

The last retreat I even left my laptop at home!

As I am packing my backpack today, I am omitting my books (!), leaving behind my laptop (!!), skipping the snacks (!!!), and even leaving behind my Bible (!!!!). 

I'm coming into this retreat without the extra baggage and without the need to prepare for all the "what ifs" of life. (what if I get hungry?, what if it rains?, what if its sunny?, what if the airplane is cold? what if I have free time? what if I'm bored? what if I want to look up a word in Greek/Hebrew?)

Instead, I am simply coming.

No load on my back.

No gruesome weight on my shoulders.

I plan, instead, to not be productive - well, at least not the kind of productive that is measured by our standards today. The biggest item I'm carrying: a pillow.

In many ways, this slow peeling away of items from my backpack is a metaphor to the spiritual releasing that has been going on in my this last year. The weight of my backpack as I head to the airport is a physical reminder of the work the Spirit has been doing in my life and the peace and freedom that has come from laying things aside and just being me - without the worries, the expectations, or the fears.

In Mark chapter 6, Jesus is sending out the 12 disciples for the first time and gives them a list of instructions to follow:

These were his instructions: "Take nothing for the journey except a staff- no bread, no bag, no money in your belts. Wear sandals but not an extra shirt..."

Jesus' instructions are the epitome of trust! The disciples knew God would be their provider and would guide them. Trusting God (or others in that case!) is no small feat. Intentionally packing less is my step toward trusting God who declares, "do not worry." It is also my declaration that my identity does not come from all those items (expectations, jobs, accomplishments, failures, etc...) I carry on my back. Instead, I am choosing to come to this retreat as Simply Connie.

As I depart for my journey, I leave with less weight and a (nearly!) empty backpack (closer to Jesus' disciples) in the hope that I will have more "space" to receive from God and come home with my heart, soul, spirit
and mind full. 

Let Retreat #5 begin!

To "Affinity" and Beyond

Tonight I began a 7-week course called, "Living Undivided." 

I've let the topic of race sit mostly untouched for a year and am feeling the need to press into it again. 

Choosing to discuss emotional, personal, and potentially conflict-inducing topics is not something my personality type enjoys, but is, I believe, something all followers of Jesus are called to do. Contrary to popular opinion, ignoring topics because they may be volatile or not addressing an obvious difference of perspective/experience does not build healthy communities nor generate good will among us. 

I've also learned that (for me), simply reading a book about 'racism in America' is not going to challenge me in the way I am desiring - I need people-interaction. I need conversation. I need to sit and talk with an Imago Dei - the image of God expressed in a person who has a different background and experience than me. 

The "easy" thing: read a book.

The "hard" thing: talk with a person different than me.

Hence: I signed up for this class hoping to get into some uncomfortable conversations. 

One topic on my mind recently is the struggle of ethnic segregation on Sunday mornings. Decades ago, Dr. Martin Luther King described 11 am on Sunday morning as, "one of the most segregated hours..." I dare say not much has changed. There may be a few more outliers here and there, but in general, we're just as segregated as we were 60-years ago. Over the last 9-months, Bret and I have attended white church, black church, Armenian church, Mennonite church, Lao church, Hispanic church, and Ukraine church. Though we enjoyed many of these experiences, I feel like we're missing something... 

I've been thinking a lot about church these days; reflecting on what 'works' and what doesn't, what needs to be thrown out and what needs to be saved, what needs revamping and what needs to be burnt up. The topic of ethnicity and how our ethnicity connects and divides us has been stirring in my heart. As I began this class tonight, with church structure and culture on my brain, I was not surprised to have an experience to further my processing.

Over the course of the 7-weeks, participants will experience three types of groups:

1. Large Group - in this space, all participants share with the whole group about the topic at hand.

2. Small Groups - participants are strategically placed into 'mixed' groups with multiple ethnicities so that a variety of voices and perspectives can be heard.

3. Affinity Groups - participants gather into groups of like-minded/shared-experienced people. 

I noticed a huge difference in my experience between the Small and Affinity Group. In the Small Group, I didn't talk too much - I didn't want to over-talk and I was also worried I would say something that might be offensive and/or say something that might be hurtful. Though my intentions were not to hurt anyone, I am well aware of my hidden bias but don't know when it will show itself. 

My remedy =  not to talk! 

Then no one gets hurt and I've done nothing, "wrong." WRONG! I'm not going to get any better at engaging other people from other cultures if I don't put my foot in my mouth from time-to-time and learn from my mistakes...which is the very purpose of this class: to provide a safe space to learn to interact with people from different backgrounds.

In the Affinity Group, I had a much easier time sharing. I felt relaxed and comfortable...which brought my thoughts back to our segregated churches.

Do we create these segregated spaces because of our weariness of the "Small Group" experience during our week? Constantly watching our words and being careful of feelings indeed gets tiring. It's no wonder when we create spaces to be with the 'Family of God' that we're going to want to be part of a group that allows us to come out from behind our walls, relax and be together without having to explain or give a back-story. 

But do we experience change in Affinity Groups?

I joined a Fit Body Bootcamp six weeks ago and the coach continues to challenge us to add more weight. "The results are in the burn," he's always saying. If we want to get results, we can't passively choose what is easy, but instead we must push ourselves into discomfort - sometimes even pain.

Ruth Haley Barton from my Transforming Community talks extensively about being aware of where we feel resistance. Oftentimes, God is in those places of resistance desiring to open a door to some part of us that has been closed off to God's presence and is in need of transformation. 

To put all these thoughts together then:

I came face-to-face with the reality that though Affinity Groups are easier, we will not be transformed in those spaces. 

Though going to church with like-minded, similar experienced people will feel like family, the Kingdom of God offers a different challenge, a challenge to be transformed into the image of God. This happens in our interactions and relationships with people different than us. 

My thoughts progress to Acts and Galatians and consider the Early Church's struggle of incorporating Gentiles into their communities. Being a Jewish-Christian was hard enough, but having to relate to a Gentile-Christian was an entirely different level. The addition of Galatian-Christians forced the early Christians to consider what part of their faith was embedded in their culture and what was truly the Gospel. Should there be, "Jewish-Christians" and "Gentile-Christians?" Roman-Christians and "Corinthian-Christians?" Are there commonalities that link the groups together? Shaking out faith and culture is a challenge for all of us and needs to be something we are constantly re-evaluating to be sure we're not limiting the Gospel to our own cultural distinctions.

Interesting that this, "Living Undivided" class incorporates both types of groups, Small Group and Affinity Group, recognizing we do have a need to connect with people similar to us - as a place to take a breath and encourage each other - but offering the space where the real work is done - in the Small Group with a mix of people from different places and different experiences learning to listen, to talk, and to share life together. 

Affinity groups are great and fill a need, but growth and transformation happens in "affinity and beyond..."

or at least, that's what I took home as my lesson tonight. :)

What are you giving up for Lent?

In just a few days, the season of Lent will begin. 

I'm wondering if you have considered what it is that you'll be giving up for the next 40 days? 

The season of Lent is a time when Christians remember Jesus' 40-days in the wilderness after his baptism. During these 40-days, Jesus fasted - he did not eat - he gave up basic needs to focus solely on his Father. He was "driven into the wilderness" where, one could argue, he also fasted from people, schedules, and demands of his life. Here in the wilderness, Jesus and the Father had focused time together. Jesus' wilderness was not a punishment. The Father had just told Jesus, "This is my son, whom I love, with him I am well pleased." The wilderness was not a place of punishment or abandonment, but really a place of centeredness, identity and mission. The wilderness was also a place of temptation and a place where Jesus' motives and desires were tested. 

The 40-days of Lent begin this Wednesday and take us up to Easter Sunday. (Fun side-note: if you count the days you'll discover we have more than 40 days between Ash Wednesday and Easter Sunday. Why? Early Christians held Sunday as a day of celebration - the day Jesus rose from the dead. So even as they fasted and prayed during the season leading up to the resurrection, they did not fast on Sunday. Sunday was celebration day!) 

One of the practices (traditions) of the Lenten season is to give up something. Some people choose to lay aside something simple like a food that they will not eat. Some people will consider habits that need to be better held in check (like drinking addictive drinks like coffee and/or alcohol) and will determine to set these aside or a 40-day detox. (Btw, if you do this, I'd recommend continuing to fast these even on your "Sunday" so your body does not get confused.) Some people choose to add something to their lives to better their relationship with God. Another idea, and what I would challenge us to do as we consider what to give up for Lent, is to focus on our relationship with God and question what we can adjust in our lifestyles to better posture ourselves to experience God.

May we consider: 

• What are those things that get in the way of our relationship with God? 
• What is something (an object, a relationship, a routine, a habit) that we turn to instead of turning toward God? 
• What is a comforting distraction we choose over attending to our souls? 
• What are those things that are holding us captive? 

I'm learning more and more that there is not much in our world that is "neutral." A good practice, relationship or routine can easily become a prison if we don't make space for self-examination and evaluation. 

Oftentimes, we desire God, but our distracted selves lean toward what is known and safe instead of following the Spirit's prompting to go into uncharted territory of quiet contemplation. 

Many of these objects, habits, routines, or relationships can be even be good, or at least began good, but may have deteriorated or spread into something unhealthy. One purpose of setting aside an object, habit, routine or relationship for a season (or adding limits to them) is to keep the Lordship of Christ above anything else that attempts to assume the title of Lord in our lives. Laying these aside for a season disarms their power and cuts their control from our life. If laying them aside is easy, then we can be reassured we are not under the grip of its power and that King Jesus has authority in our lives. More often, however, we'll feel the sting of separation and maybe even the temptation to blow off this "silly religious practice." The separation is painful for the first few days, to be sure, but the freedom we can experience is remarkable. With our space less cluttered and our souls less distracted, we find more time and focus to listen for the God's direction, behold God's beauty, or sit quietly in God's presence. During our 40-days when we feel tempted to pick back up our objects, habits, routines or relationships, may we instead choose to confess our weakness and need for our Savior, asking Jesus to once again rule in all aspects of our life.

(Note: if you choose to set aside a relationship, don't just cut someone off, but let the person know what is happening and why you are choosing to set aside or put limits on your relationship for the next 40-days. Adding healthy limits on your relationship is a way of making space for God to be part of that relationship.) 

Our Distractions are Limitless

I encourage you to be attentive to your habits, routines, and relationships these next few days as we head into Lent. Be aware of when you feel God's lead and how/where/when you choose something "easier" like watching TV, scrolling YouTube, or listening to Podcasts, instead of spending time with God. The amount of information with which we are daily assaulted clouds our ability to hear God speak. Even the simplest limit to our social media usage can make a large impact on our internal sense of God's presence and peace with us.

May God reveal to us an area of our lives that we can lay aside for His glory of these next 40-days.

Peace,

Connie

2024 Prayer & Fasting

This Monday, January 8th begins another season of praying and fasting. 

Join me and many others around the Fresno/Clovis area as we spend intentional time praying for our neighborhoods, communities, schools, workplaces and so much more.

I have been participating in this prayer rhythm for over ten years now. The first year I participated alone because my church was new to the idea of prayer and fasting. The second year I participated, I wanted to invite my church to join me but knew 21 days was a big commitment. So I challenged them to join me for "7-Days of Prayer & Fasting." They did! The next year I added another week: "14-Days" and then the following year the church engaged in all 21-Days. What a delight to know this church still continues to participate in praying as a community to begin their year. Whatever your stage in prayer - whether you've never really prayed before or you've been praying for years - we are all invited and encouraged to pray for our cities over the next 21 days. 

Prayer Guide

In partnering with people in their growth in prayer, I noticed sometimes it's hard to know how to pray or what to pray. With that in mind, I created a prayer guide for the purpose of scaffolding the learning stages of prayer as well as creating synergy and focus on a particular item/situation in which to pray. If you would like to follow along with a Prayer Guide that I wrote, you are welcome to download it. I created two different formats. If you have the capacity to print a booklet, use this link to download and print. (print both sides, flip short edge)

If you would like a more simple Word document (with a larger font size), use this link to download and print the 2024 Prayer Guide.

Prayer Nights

During each night of the 21 Days of Prayer & Fasting a church in the Fresno/Clovis area will open up their space for an evening of corporate prayer. If you would like to join others in praying for our city, use this link to see where prayer is happening on each of the 21 days. 

Fasting Brochure

If you're newer to fasting and want to find out more information about why and how to fast, use this link to download a brochure about fasting. Pastor Bob Willis from NorthPark wrote this brochure ten years ago and I have modified it through the years.

Community of Faith

Regardless of where you attend church, I believe we are part of a Story bigger than one person or even one church. It is the collective whole of all of us coming together to form the Body of Christ in our cities. You and I are welcomed and invited to participate in this season of prayer and fasting as a way to engage in something bigger than ourselves, be reminded that we are not alone in our faith and love of Jesus, and pray for God's mercy and grace on behalf of the cities in which we live.

Let me know if you have any questions.

May God make Himself known to you in this season of prayer, confession, repentance and healing. Let it be!

Peace, 

Connie

My Journey of Preaching

Mother's Day, May 12, 2013 was the day I preached my first sermon. 

I'll always remember coming off the stage and being exceptionally hot! I stood next to the Lead Pastor who patted me on the back and said, "Nice job, sheesh...you're burning up!" I literally had sweat dripping down my back. 

I had just transitioned out of my role as Children's Coordinator and was beginning as an Associate Pastor which included the opportunity to preach 2-3 times per year.

"Two or possibly three Sundays a year I get to preach!" I thought. "What an honor. What a blessing. What a gift."

It's strange how our perspectives change overtime.

I remained in my Associate Pastor role for over five years, delivering a total of 19 sermons.

I loved the process of studying for my sermon, of creating the slides, of crafting words and especially the experience of delivering it to a crowd of friends.

In 2018, I began pastoring within a new congregation - again for over five years. Within this time frame, I preached 14 times. 

With the second church came the challenge of balancing my full-time job as the Children & Families Pastor with the Sundays that I preached. At my previous church, my job entailed ministries to adults which kept me in the same sphere of the Sunday Service, so preaching wasn't quite as taxing as being the tandem preacher and Children's Pastor. At this new church, preaching included both my normal full-time responsibilities in addition to the extra time and energy to write and deliver a sermon. I love preaching so, of course, I eagerly jumped at every opportunity to preach that came my way.

Preaching, for me as a Children's Pastor, meant late night hours writing and creating. It meant recruiting a 'point-person' for Sunday so someone would lead in my absence. It meant setting up the kids area on Saturday to alleviate some of my job the next morning. It meant being the first to arrive on Sunday to turn on lights, heat, and unlock doors so that the kids area was ready to receive children when church began. It meant running back-and-forth between service design, prayer meetings, sound-checks and checking in with teachers and families as they arrived. It meant running upstairs to the supply closet and pulling out extra buttons for a craft the teacher wants to do before I ran back to the sanctuary, getting in just in time for the completion of the song before my sermon. Heart-pounding from my jog around campus, it was now time to preach.

I had to choose my shoes wisely on these days - I often found myself literally running behind the stage back-and-forth between the opening, worship, sermon, and benediction. It was crazy!  

Though I love preaching, I was also getting tired of the balancing act. Not just balancing of my time, but also my family. Most the sermon opportunities would be offered to me on holiday weekends - or weekends projected to be "quiet." My sacrifice of sleep and energy was one thing, but to have to prep a sermon on the weekend my out-of-town children would be home? 

It was getting harder and harder to see the opportunity to preach as a blessing. 

I remember one sermon I prepped on the Friday after Thanksgiving in my mother-in-law's closet in Carmel. It was the only place in the house that was quiet. While my family was bustling with games and fun downstairs, I was locked in a closet preparing a sermon for Sunday. This is a gift, right? 

When I stepped down from my job in June of this year, I knew I was potentially stepping away from one of the activities I loved to do the most - preach. The realization of my loss had already begun to sink-in months before as I was less and less invited to preach. I noticed the "better" I did my job, the less available I was to engage in adult conversations, attend the worship service, and be given opportunities to preach. It was a Catch-22 situation. To win was to lose. Perhaps I was simply in the wrong role to even have the desire to preach - but let's get real, I live in the Central Valley. Children's Ministry is one of the few positions available to women in our churches.

What's sad in this story is that no one seemed to notice when my voice was not included. No one noticed my exhaustion at the end of my Sundays on the days I preached. Some might argue that I didn't tell them it was too much. My fear, however, was that if I confessed that preaching was too much that one of the three possibilities would enfold:

1. I would no longer be asked to preach.

2. I would be told that my desire to preach was on me so I needed to suck it up. 

3. I would be told that my inability to do a full time job AND preach was an indicator of a woman's incapacity to preach.

I have always loved the preparing and preaching component of sermons - it was doing all of it and my full-time job that was getting wearisome. So instead, to prove a point and to keep preaching, I endured. I found I had no one to advocate for me to help me make this work better. Instead, the problem sat squarely on my shoulders and in my incapacity to do it all. 

News Flash: This is an unhealthy system!

My struggle for always feeling, "not enough" has come from these very much unrealistic expectations that have been put on me. I do not believe anyone can do what was expected of me. It is not a fault of mine, but a fault with the system.

While the youth pastor got to preach monthly, I needed to be content in my building, with my children, and with my own ministry. Was the problem with me and wanting too much? I was hired as the "Children and Families Pastor," after all. Why would I expect to be in church or asked to preach?  

That, my friends, is a hard pill to swallow. 

There's a discrepancy when a church has two full-time associate pastors and one preaches monthly and the other twice a year. "Yeah, but Connie, the youth pastor doesn't have responsibilities on a Sunday morning, so he has more time to devote to his sermon than you do." 

Answer: That's a systemic problem. Perhaps, there's a problem when one full-time pastor has free time and the other full-time pastor has too large of a load to be involved with the life of the church. 

I do not doubt the youth pastor (or other associates for that matter) have similar problems; I'm sure this is not my problem alone. But it also makes me wonder if this is why the typical associate pastor only lasts for 5-years. Is that just the norm, or could there be, perhaps, a different way? Could we navigate our churches differently in a way that anticipates our leaders to grow and grow with them?

Yesterday I got to preach again. 

I, honestly, wasn't sure if I'd ever get the chance to preach again after I left my place of employment, but Fresno Pacific University reached out and offered me a chance to speak for College Hour. 

I discovered that without a full-time job to attend to in addition to speaking, preparing a sermon was simple! My slides were in on Friday and then I had to wait....and wait....and wait for College Hour on Wednesday. I cannot express the strange peace and unhurried posture in which I found myself in the waiting on Monday and Tuesday. It was so very unlike me, and especially unlike how I normally functioned leading up to a sermon.

What I noticed this time was that I slept peacefully the night before (not my normal Saturday-night-before-my-sermon). My watch never notified me that my heart-rate soared and I didn't even feel nervous during my message. My pace was good - I didn't feel rushed like I was borrowing time and needed to wrap it up. There was this strange peace surrounding me. 

My topic was on "The Divine Cobbler," a bit of a play-on-words I got from my son when he had asked me if I knew anyone who can sew on his soul. He was actually referring to the sole of his tap shoe (ha!), but the idea of a soul-mender began forming deep within me. 

In my experience thus far with the Transforming Community, I've been praying that God would mend me back together: heart, mind, soul, and body. That my "doing for God" would extend out of my place of "being with God." 

I am realizing that the anxiety I felt when I preached in years past was due to an over-loaded plate and lack of support, as well as a busy, hurried spiritual life that made no room for resting in God. 

The "resting in God" piece I am doing well these days. I'm grateful for my growth but disappointed that my church couldn't grow with me. I find myself thinking different scenarios for ways things could have worked out, but know I need to let these fall to the ground and die. Thinking about the "what ifs" of life never works out well or does not lends itself to emotional health or spiritual vitality. 

At this point in my life, if someone where to tell me: "We so value your voice that we're going to allow you to preach two-three times a year." It feels more condescending than it does generous. 

We've got to do better. 

That bettering involves looking at our systems, our job descriptions, our relationships and noticing how they affect us - are they supportive or are they are diminishing? Are they laced with inequalities that we've become so accustomed to that we're blind to them? Within the church, are we handing out token opportunities to women, or actually creating spaces and ministries for women to thrive? We cannot give job descriptions designed for men to women and expect these jobs to work. Likewise, we cannot give women job descriptions that worked in the 80's and then be surprised when women feel unsupported. We need to be innovative in how we make space for all voices to be heard and thrive. We've GOT to get creative and we must move toward gift-based leadership positions over adhering to the straight-jacketed approach of job descriptions. Did both churches follow through with offering me a chance to speak twice a year? Yes. Did the churches create a place for my gifts to grow and flourish? No.

As I continue to wrestle with my own grief, I am also grateful for the healing that has come in my resting with Jesus. I also hope that, by God's grace, I can help create healthy solutions to systems that need to be reimagined because I know deep down that we can do better than this for the women and men who serve in our churches.

#equality

#untileverywomanisheard

The Practice of Gratefulness

I am an over-thinker. 

I'm the type of person who can sit in silence for hours considering a situation or topic and still not be able to make a decision. I have to consider every angle and every option before decision-making and even after all that consideration, may not be able to make a decision for fear of it being the 'wrong' decision. I've learned to put deadlines on my thinking and manage my over-processing tendencies, but I've also discovered a dark-side to my over-thinking. 

Especially these days when I tend to be alone more than ever before, I recognize the negative voices that begin to plant words and thoughts into my thinking. Without people around me to bounce my thoughts off, these negative ideas get mixed into my own thoughts and soon enough, I'm a mess of confusion and despair forgetting my belovedness while also beginning to see the world through glasses tainted with negativity and hopelessness.

I'm sure I'm not the only one who gets into this cycle!

One of the practices I have learned to help me combat this negative cycle is the practice of gratefulness. I know, I know, that sounds like a cheesy, "churchy" answer, but it really, truly works! 

Practicing gratitude opposes the voices that tells us, "no one cares," or "your life is horrible," or whatever other lie we're hearing. It also combats our woe-is-me outlook, reminding us of the many gifts and blessings bestowed to us each day. After two weeks of looking for reasons to be grateful, our brains will actually form new pathways and begin thinking differently! Our outlook on life will not begin despairingly, but will begin open to a day of possibilities, not expecting doom and gloom, but anticipating reminders of blessing and love notes of hope.

I recognize we are often in seasons when being thankful is hard. 

We go through times when the most we can do is just get out-of-bed. When we have experienced the loss of a loved one, are undergoing chemotherapy, or have lost our job, for example, we can quickly be pulled into a vacuum of despair. Our goal in these times is often survival. During these seasons we believe being thankful is a frivolous amenity gifted to others, but not to me. 

Telling someone in these places, "be grateful," feels like dousing a cut with lemon juice - it hurts! Please hear me say, I understand being in this place. In many ways, I am living in this season right now, which is why I need gratitude. 

Being grateful does not deny my current situation - it doesn't heal it or make it go away. It does, however, adjust my outlook, inspire my hope, and help me get through my difficult situation. 

Daily Examen

I like to pair my practice of gratitude with a practice called, "Daily Examen." The Daily Examen is often done in the evening and is a practice of considering our day, looking for places where we grew as people, places where we can now recognize God's activity but acknowledged we missed the invitation, and/or situations where we were reminded of God's presence and participation in our lives. This practice of reflecting on our day, how we missed it, where we blew it, where God showed up, and how I made decisions out of wholeness instead of gloom is a healing and healthy practice.

November Challenge

During the month of November, I'm challenging the people in my small group (and you as well!) to begin your day with the intention to keep your eyes opened (both our physical eyes and spiritual eyes) to something, someone, or a situation in which we can be thankful. 

I have done Thankfulness Journals before but I have to admit I was a bit of a cheater. I'd get busy for a week and then sit down and write out seven things/people I'm grateful for quickly to get 'caught up.'

Instead of brainstorming our reasons to be thankful, let's, instead, be daily looking for them to make themselves known to us. 

For example, I could be thankful for my daughter, Anna. I am very thankful for her so she would be a natural name to write on my page. How much more grateful, however, would it be if Anna happened to stop by just to say hi. Then, that evening, during my Daily Examen, my gratefulness wells up within me as I write Anna down as my person in which to be thankful. Not just someone I love, but someone who intersected my life today - my gift for the day.

See the difference?

There's a bit more trust to this challenge - trust that we will see a reason in which to be thankful AND trust that God, the giver of good gifts, will bring those gifts into our lives. This is also a partnership between us and God in that, I believe, God surrounds us with daily reminders of his love for us, it's often us who are too busy or blind to see the gifts around us.

Looking for reasons to be thankful is a powerful way to develop healthy, life-giving thinking habits.

Be Thankful Booklets

I created these little booklets for my small group, but you can use a journal or whatever paper you have available, to get into the practice of being grateful. Begin your day asking God to bring to your attention to a reason in which to be grateful. Sit with God in the evening asking God to remind you and then write down the name, situation, encounter on your paper. If you're a creative-type, perhaps you can experiment with other mediums to journal your experience. 

Let us combat our "stinking-thinking" (as my mom used to say) by opening ourselves to seeing reasons to be thankful for each day.

Have fun this November!

"Give thanks to the LORD, for he is good. His love endures forever."  

Halloween Comes Full-Circle

I have so much in my head and heart concerning Harvest/Halloween Carnivals, I decided to write them down. Perhaps if they're written here, I can let them go...

Opening our Front Lawn (1998-2005)

In 1998 we were leaders at the Fresno Vineyard. Our church met in a converted warehouse "behind Costco" on Shaw near Highway 99. Prior to 1998, my husband and I lived in an apartment, but in 1998 we purchased our first house in the block southeast of Fresno and Bullard. We were never "Halloween People," but the more neighbors I met that first year at my house, the more I wanted to host "something" to get to know the people who lived around me. In 1998 we hosted our first "Harvest Party" in our front yard. Children and parents were both delighted to play some games, drink some hot apple cider, and engage in friendly conversation as they passed our house on their way to trick-or-treat. We did front-yard "Harvest Parties" for eight years before closing our church. 

Developing my Neighborhood Theology.

In the late 90's, I was in the beginning stages of developing a theology of neighboring - a topic that has continued to be close to my heart. I began looking for more ways to either invite my neighbors to my house or look for opportunities for where my "neighbors" (or anyone in my community for that matter!) was gathering, and attempt to place myself in the middle of that gathering place. I began chewing on ideas to help churches increase their impact in neighborhoods. How can we move from a building-centric church to a community of house-churches? It "helped" that the Fresno Vineyard sold our worship center and began renting space on a Sunday morning. Nothing like being portable to force growth into the homes. Bret and I experienced one of our favorite church communities during this season: a broad swath of different people, coming together from different backgrounds (ages, life-stages, ethnicities, and economics) with the common goals of being formed into the image of God together. Hands down, the BEST small group we have ever been part of. Though our small group met near Fresno High, our Harvest Parties continued in my front yard until our church closed in 2005.

Challenging a Vision (2006-2017)

When I began the job of Children's Coordinator of a church in Clovis, one of my first major assignments was to participate in the church's annual Halloween Carnival on Halloween night. I was hit with a conflict because I had become so accustomed to my Front-Yard Harvest Parties, I felt like I was abandoning my neighborhood to do my church-job. Why would I willingly leave my house on the one night my neighbors would be coming to me? 

With no option to opt-out, I had to give up my neighborhood party and push my creativity into my church function. After just a few years, I was put in charge of the Halloween Carnival at the church and casted an alternative vision for why and how we could approach Halloween, centering on the importance of neighborhoods. Instead of church leaving their neighborhoods on this night, what if we were, instead, purposeful about this night and made our presence known. I altered our plan so that we would still have a yearly Halloween Carnival, but it would be on the Sunday before Halloween, freeing us on October 31st to be in our neighborhoods, meeting neighbors. I loved the chance to create space for our town to come to our big and fabulous Halloween Carnivals the Sunday before, but my favorite space was still my front-yard - hanging out with my neighbors, drinking apple ciders, and playing games with neighborhood children.

Expanding our Circumference (2018-2019) 

Change occurred again in 2018 when I become the Children's Pastor of a church in Fresno. The pastor I worked with also had a passion for neighboring and also wanted to experiment with changing how the church had experienced Halloween thus far. In years prior, the church would decorate and open their gym for the neighborhood and church members to eat together and play games. Our new idea was to partner with the local school to have a Halloween Party after school on Halloween. This incarnational-view centered on Jesus' willingness to come to us and bring reconciliation and healing. Instead of inviting our community to come to us, we came to them bringing games, tickets and prizes. We did this for two-years and it went well. My only problem? Once I was finished with clean-up, it was dark and I did not have time to set-up my front-yard harvest party. I was once again was pulled away from my neighborhood doing church-work somewhere else. There's got to be a way to combine these, or somehow do them so they're not conflicting...

Changing a Culture (2020-2022)

Then, in 2020, COVID came, forcing all of us to pivot. Creative thinking and trying out new ideas are some of my specialties so I was excited as Halloween approached to think of how I could use this opportunity to change the culture of this church. I had lived a block south of this church years ago and didn't feel like it was very invitational. Something about how the parking lot worked, the color-choices, and strange language on the kiosk kept me from perusing this church. The previous pastor had stepped down so I had free space to create anything I wanted. I decided to bring the carnival back to the church campus, but to keep it in the parking lot. Though many people thought this was due to COVID regulations, it was actually a strategy to keep the church visible, instead of hidden in the gym. Much to the church's surprise, the community responding with their resounding presence. Candyland was a great success and everyone was thrilled. Since I was in charge, I scheduled the carnival during the afternoon, for safety AND...you guessed it...so I would have time to be in my own neighborhood! 

The next year, with a new pastor at the helm, I was permitted to do a parking-lot carnival again, this time a "Knock-Knock Joke" theme (complete with lots of bad jokes!). With Halloween falling on a Sunday, we, once again, held an afternoon carnival so that people would have the opportunity to be back in their neighborhoods. 

In 2022 came the culture-shift: Halloween fell on a Monday. With 13-years of experience at the last church, two successful years of parking-lot carnivals, and knowing how well the church and community responded to a carnival the Sunday leading into Halloween, I proposed we do the same. 

Thrillingly, the church hosted an Encanto Halloween Carnival on the Sunday afternoon and then I got to enjoy my neighbors on Monday evening! It was fabulous! Though I had hoped to make a few more adjustments to further a neighborhood approach to Halloween night and link back with the local elementary school, my time at that church also came to a close.

Close, but not Quite Home (2023)

This year was strange. We're not serving in a church and feel a bit "homeless." I could sense the weather cooling and leaves changing and felt my anticipation of carnival festivities rising. After 26-years of leading fall carnivals, believe me when I say, I could feel the night approaching. My husband could see my restlessness so we drove to Oregon to visit his brother in an attempt to keep my mind off the impending day. 

Once we were back home and knowing the day could not be avoided (plus I love the chance to be with people!) we decided to bring some of our carnival games and backdrops to a friends house in the Tower District. They have a TON of kids come through so I thought that sounded like a good plan. With 1,000's of kids walking through our games we stayed busy for over three hours! It was so much fun to be in a neighborhood! It was a blast having the lawn lit up with spotlights, backdrops and games tucked between episodes of The Day of the Dead! We had children entering our lighted area crying from the ghouls next door to begin smiling at the frog launch and plinko games! The only set-back: people asking if I lived at this house, or commenting on "my" house being "the best house on the block." I didn't live here.

Once again, I felt dislocated. Finally in an area of town where there's people, but still feeling like I'm a visitor. I've been in four different neighborhoods, still seeking for the place to call home. 

This year was closer - being with a community of people from a large range of backgrounds, being outside, in the front yard, handing out candy and smiles and hanging out with friends in their front yard.

Back in the Neighborhood

As I reflect on my Halloween experiences and how those experiences have shaped church cultures and developed my own understanding of neighboring, I recognize my desire to feel settled in a neighborhood. I am grateful for my years of creating community for others, but so desire the change to be part of that community myself, not just watch from the sidelines. 

What began 26-years-ago in my front yard has come full-circle. We're back in a front yard and this fireball of energy still wells up within me at the idea of neighbors coming together. Crazy events like Halloween carnivals continue to teach me and shape me as I listen and observe. 

May we all continue to be challenged and grow at each event and conversation as we interact with priceless people who offer sacred opportunities to share life together. May we choose our neighborhoods, not just a "night off," but the purposeful decision to meet our neighbors, learn names, and build a community that pursues peace together.

Peace!

 (this year Bret and I were Mario and Luigi!)

 

Last Moments with Grandma

Tonight we said goodbye to our grandma.

Today did not end as any of us had expected. Death really does come like a thief in the night. Bed unmade, shoes untied, and purse left behind, life moves fast - enjoy every moment.

On Saturday, after being so excited to celebrate my dad's birthday, Grandma suffered a cardiac-episode. Instead of celebrating with cake and ice cream, Grandma got a ride in the ambulance and a stay in the emergency room.

On Sunday morning, I sat with my Grandma in ER. She was coherent, but not making much sense. 

"Connie?" She asked, "Do you think when I'm through here your Grandpa will come around with the car and take me home?" If you've ever spent a while in conversation with someone who's mind is betraying them, you know it's best to play along instead of inflicting unnecessary pain - like telling my Grandma that Grandpa passed away years ago. Sometimes the desire to be with someone we love trumps the need for logical conversation.

"Yes, Grandma. I'm sure Grandpa will take you home." 

I listened (and answered!) Grandma's nonsensical questions, soaking in her smile and playing along with her real and fantasized scenarios. In my stillness these last few months I am becoming more aware of the presence of God with me in every situation and allowing myself to be present in each moment - not waiting for the next moment or wishing for the last - simply being present in the now. Standing at her bedside I became acutely aware of the gift of looking into her eyes, seeing her smile, and being with her.

"Connie, Grandpa told me last night to stay still on the ground and take all my medicine because it's good for me." I began tearing up considering how thin the layer between the heavens were growing and wondered if I might be standing amongst loved ones. I believe it is quite possible my Grandpa was encouraging her and helping her along - mysterious phenomenon take place as a person's transition nears.

Today, her heart grew weaker and we knew the time had arrived. 

Singing hymns, reading scripture, and praying, my dad, sister, brother and I held her hands as she released her last breath and rested into the arms of her Loving God. 

Perhaps her fantasies were based in more reality than I had realized and I answered her correctly - she really did get to go home with Grandpa tonight and I believe she is now counted among the Great Cloud of Witnesses cheering us on as we continue to run our race. 

She has left us with one-liners that make us laugh, memories that fill our hearts with joy, and recipes that fill our stomachs with tangible love. She has been a fighter, a compassionate connector, and a faithful companion. Her passing even caused the nurse who cared for her for just a few short hours to cry. "Your Grandma was so kind. She knew my name." A few hours before her death - she was still learning her nurses' name and complementing her on her turban. A remarkable woman, indeed.

I could go on and on about her hilarious quirks and dazzling intellect, but for now I will treasure those in my heart to keep me company on rainy days.

I already miss my Grandma immensely, but I look forward to the day when I will see her again. May we live in the present moment enjoying the now of today in light of our hope of tomorrow.

I love you, Grandma.