One Minister’s Musings

Aug. 2, 2011

Driving Ahead at a Constant Rate of Speed and Getting Nowhere Fast

The car moved at a constant rate of speed, yet it seemed to get nowhere fast.  I was driving back to Illinois last night after visiting my cousins and showing my hometown to Terry.  We drove into the night and I kept looking at the speedometer and mile markers.  Would we ever get back?

I took Terry to Nebraska so that he could know more about me by learning about my childhood and growing up in small town Nebraska. We had visited relatives and my hometown.  Of course, my relatives told him many embarrassing stories about the stupid things I did as a child. I had moved back in time, getting nowhere fast.

In my hometown we drove through the one block of businesses in the downtown. I pointed out the soda fountain that was now a feed store, the tavern that was an antique shop; the hardware store now a storage unit, the opera house now a meeting hall, and the café which was newly built.  And the meat market, fabric shop and grocery store had been torn down. My home place looked so much smaller as the trees were larger.  There were buildings where there should be open space and open space where there should be buildings. Everything was different. And yet, everything was the same.  Perhaps time passing with this small town was much like the car last night – moving in a constant rate of speed yet getting nowhere fast.

We walked through my home church and I told stories about singing in the choir, being questioned in confirmation, tripping and falling on my face when I was an angel walking around the manager during the Christmas pageant, and the bags of candy with oranges, peanuts and ribbon candy I received after the event. We visited the cemetery and I paid tribute to my mom and dad who were buried there.  I had walked these same grounds with my mother each Memorial Day weekend at dusk and retold the stories she told me about the various people buried there.

I had sped ahead in my life, constantly moving forward, but perhaps it really wasn’t going anywhere. I was more different than I could ever imagine as a child. And yet, at the same time, I remained the same. Speeding ahead and getting nowhere fast, for I am deeply rooted in the love of this place – love given to me, love challenging me, love even hurting me, but love, a constant love.

On campus, I met many new people steadily on the move. And each student, each staff, each faculty person speeds ahead into new knowledge, discovering new realities, engaging in new relationships, expanding into wider horizons, asking deeper questions, affirming a greater expanse of life.

And yet, as I talk, listen, wonder, and explore with others, I am reminded of the power of love that does not let go and doesn’t go anywhere. It just stays present.

That’s the gift of this work of campus ministry. That’s the gift of embodying God’s love, as best we can. It’s the paradox of constant movement and constant love – steadily moving ahead, growing widely, AND getting nowhere fast, for nothing is outside the love of God.

Gently,

Pr E

One Minister’s Musing

July 12, 2011

The Answers Are Blowing In The Wind

Just four days ago I was sitting and reading at the Minnesota lake home with warm sun and cool breezes off the water. These lazy days allow for time to be, read, and reflect, allowing time to wonder about work, relationships, and God.  These times allow room for many questions. It allows time for the questions to grow, and more often than not, the answers are few. As a result, I get more anxious. I often leave vacation churned up by these questions, more restless than rested.  I want answers.  I want answers now.

One morning I woke early to sit outside and the wind was blowing hard, no longer the gentle breeze in a quiet afternoon.  The force of the wind from the lake pushed against my face. It was strong enough to shake the limbs of the large oak trees on the bank. I sat very still to experience this push and wonder about the force of these air currents.

As I sat, I watched the many bird feeders scattered in the trees around me. They rocked to and fro moving this way and that by the forces of the wind, but remained anchored to the branches of the trees. I watched the birds fly to and from these feeders as they played in the strong winds. They would dive to the feeders, catch hold, peck at the food, and move on. They delighted in the challenge, playing in wind, riding the currents up and down, and singing joyfully.

I continued to sit still and watched, waited. Just three feet away from me was a humming bird feeder. As I sat, two birds came to feed. Initially, they only flew around the feeder and I. Then they moved closer, hovering in the air and finally drinking the sweet nectar from inside the feeder. First the female came, then the male, hovering to drink and hurrying away. But they kept coming, and finally stopped to sit at the feeder. These tiny birds stayed, as they were sure of safety and sure of food even as the wind blew at them.

Perhaps these little birds knew something I didn’t. They played in the challenge of the wind. They trusted to eat even in the push and pull of the currents around them. When I am challenged by the winds of questions and doubt, I often become afraid and anxious.  I wonder what’s wrong and what needs to be fixed. Yet, these birds thrilled in the push against them, they danced in the swiftly moving air, and trusted the flow for life.

Perhaps questions and challenges are not to be feared but are the very gifts of the God in which to fly and delight. They are the currents in which we fly. And maybe if I am quiet long enough, the answers will come to me through the hard front winds. For I have experienced in the wind and the waiting, the presence of the humming birds. When I was still, even in the wind, they came. When I was quiet, they arrived and flew close.   Thanks be to God.

Gently,

Pr E

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