Pilgrimage Ponderings

I have a confession to make.

I'm a pretty boring person.

When I'm not working, working, working, or carting my kids around to their activities, or doing my part of keeping the household running, or spending time with my family...I don't do much else.

I have always admired people who garden or decorate or sew or act or play instruments and have a life apart from the source of their livelihood.

When I'm at home with a few minutes of quiet, I'm a slug.  I read.  I sleep.  I browse the internet.

Lately I have been pondering that my oldest son has this year and next year in high school before he graduates.  And the other two will be out of the house before I know it.  Much as I cannot imagine what it will be like to only have to get myself up and going in the morning, and to only have two people to cook for and schedule around, it does make me think that one day I might have some more energy and free time than I have now.

I wonder what I'll do with it.

What do you do for fun?

I have had occasion, of late, to remember a confirmation lesson that attempts to explain the doctrine of sin to middle schoolers. It is actually one of my favorite lessons.

The lesson uses the analogy of illness and the human body. If I have strep throat, I have symptoms like fever and a sore throat, but the underlying problem is the bacteria, invisible to the naked eye, that is coursing through my body. So the symptoms need to be treated, but more important is treating the underlying condition.

With sin, there are individual symptoms that manifest themselves in our lives, but there is also the underlying condition of Original Sin, of turning away from God. This condition may be invisible but is nonetheless pervasive.

Jesus does forgive our "sins" but more importantly, having a relationship with him allows him to work on that underlying condition.

I suppose that's my big thought for the day.

We picked up two of our children from church camp yesterday.  This is the third or fourth or fifth time they've been.  I don't remember exactly.  There have been some leadership changes over the past year or so, and I wanted to know if they could tell that anything had changed.

I asked them how this year compared to previous years.  My youngest son said that he could tell things were different but he couldn't explain how.  My middle son had an interesting response.  He noticed the new rowboats and canoes and the new wood ties outlining the trails and the area around the pool.  He said that it is obvious that they are spending money on the camp.

From what I saw, things were neat and tidy, but I didn't notice a whole lot different when we were dropping them off and picking them up.  But from his teenage perspective, it seemed that people cared about the camp because there was some new equipment.

Next year there will be new cabins.  I suppose there are some folks who wonder why they would go to the trouble to tear down perfectly serviceable cabins that worked just fine for them when they attended the camp (I would never have stayed in them!).  I wonder what sort of new feeling there will be for next year's campers.

And I can't help thinking about how sometimes I want to keep things just as they are because I am comfortable with the familiarity, even if it means turning my back on a change for the better.  I got a "new" laptop this week (which means it is newer than the one I had).  It has more memory than the one I had, which ultimately will be a good thing.  But it's not just like my old one.  I had to be grouchy about that for a day, especially when it was being uncooperative about certain things. 

I wonder how often we try to keep things just the way we are used to them being at church.  If someone moved away from your community of faith tomorrow and came back a few years from now, would anything be different?  There are times when I think that answering that question "no" is a good thing.  And then I think about my son's perspective on church camp.  He has enjoyed going for years and is looking forward to going back next year.  But he could tell a difference this year, and in his mind, it seemed like somebody somewhere cares more about the camp than they used to.

Does our resistance to change at church make it seem like we care less than we actually do?

My dad is going home from the hospital today. Pray for my mom. My dad is not allowed to drive for three weeks.

My mom NEVER drives my dad around. From my mom's perspective, life goes smoother when she lets him do all the driving. Enough said about that!

Thankfully, my dad's walking buddy has offered to help out in whatever way is needed. My mom has already conscripted him to chauffeur.

1. Precious followed my husband on his morning walk the other day and ended up with another family. My youngest is still wondering if she will be coming back. Amazing how a puppy can work its way into your heart in less than 24 hours.

2. Our South Carolina delegation was all disappointed when our nominee Tim McClendon was not elected bishop last week. The South Carolina conference, however, will benefit from his continued leadership here.

3. My Dad is having bypass surgery tomorrow. It's a scary thing, but to me the alternative is much worse. It is amazing what doctors can do these days, and I am thankful that my dad's overall health is in his favor. Still, it's a scary thing....

–adjective

 4. the name given by my son to the stray puppy we found on our doorstep this morning.  It's going to be a busy week, with posting "Found: Black and white mixed breed puppy" signs and calling the vets to see if anyone is looking for the dog.  Not to mention deciding what to do if the dog is not claimed.  It's going to be a difficult decision with such a name.

This morning in Sunday school we were looking at the story of Jesus calming the storm.  We had a good discussion and I am disappointed that I will miss the end of it next week.

Anyway, as we were reading three versions of the story I couldn't help but remember the story of Jonah.  Jonah was sent by God to preach repentance to the people of Nineveh.  He got on a boat heading the other direction.  The boat was swamped in a storm with seasoned sailors fearing for their lives.  They found Jonah asleep on a cushion and were shocked.  Evenutally, the whole story comes out, Jonah gets pitched overboard and the storm stops.  After his time in the fish belly he decides to go to Nineveh and do what God asked.  He tells the people that God is going to wipe out the city if they do not repent of their wickedness.

Apparently Jonah was a good preacher.  The people did repent, so God did not wipe out the city.  So Jonah gets mad at God because he thinks that he looks foolish now and he goes off to sulk.

When Jesus gets in the boat, he tells the disciples to head to the other side of the sea, a place where, we find out later, there are herds of pigs.  In other words, these are not likely to be devout Jewish people.  I wonder what the disciples thought about that?

Anyway, they are on a boat in the middle of the sea when a storm breaks out that has seasoned sailors fearing for their lives.  And where is Jesus?  Asleep on a cushion.  The disciples wake him up and he calms the storm and then they head on over to the other side so he can cast a legion of demons from a man banished to the caves and the people of the nearby town can ask him to leave because the town maniac is now calmly sitting at Jesus' feet.

In the meantime, Jesus fusses at the disciples when they, terrified, wake him up in the midst of the storm and say, "Don't you care that we are about to die?"  He asks them where their faith is.

I've been thinking about how these stories are alike and whether or not it is even productive to think about them together.

I like a Sunday school lesson that doesn't tie things up into neat packages like a 30-minute sitcom, but instead gives me something to chew on during the week.

It took me two tries and a little over two weeks, but I've found my spot.

We have a sun room in our house, and I've found the spot where I can sit and think and ponder and pray and reflect.  Now the new house feels like home.

Do you have a spot?  A thinking chair?  A place you return to that reminds your self to see the forest and not just the trees?

Our guest Bible study leader at annual conference was Eddie Fox. One of the things he said was that "Grandparents was one of the best ideas God ever had."

My parents would agree. For several years now, they have been hosting "Camp Ma and Pa." Yesterday they collected all eight of their grandchildren to be together in their house until Sunday. Seven of the 8 are boys, ages 6, 10, 11, 12, 13, 14, and 15. The one girl is 3. When I told my dad to have a good time he just smiled and grunted.

They have added at least one new thing this year, probably due to the number of teens and tweeners in the group. They have a chore chart. In previous years they instituted rotating sleeping arrangements so no one grandson gets a better deal than the other.

I am thankful that my children have this opportunity to spend such time with their grandparents and cousins.

I suppose I am just as thankful that I am not there to enjoy it with them.

This was the refrain of my 11-year-old on Wednesday as we were meeting folks and watching the movers unload in our new home.

Perhaps the biggest attraction for him was the Nintendo Wii in the youth room of the church. But he continued to say to me, "Mom, I think we're going to like it here" throughout the day.

The painters finished this morning, I found my hammer/screwdriver tool, and we all slept in our own beds in our own rooms last night after enjoying a huge and delicious meal from one of the Sunday school classes.

All in all, we have received a very warm welcome. And I think my son is right.