My Journey to Seminary

TRG 501 : Theological Reflections

Foundations for Theological Thinking

Phillips Theological Seminary

Student Presentation

I suppose my journey to seminary began the moment I stepped through the doors of Fellowship Lutheran Church as their Children’s Minister.  I can’t say ministry was something that I had ever before felt called to do - it found me quite accidentally.  Yet, I believe my call to ministry was handed to me as a gift from God.

After being a stay-at-home mom for a little over a year, I felt the need to go back to work.  Although I wasn’t serious about finding a job, I would browse through the classified ads in the Tulsa World, occasionally sending out resumes to jobs I thought sounded interesting.  One day I stumbled upon an ad that read: “Work with children in a Christian environment.”  It was pretty basic and about as vague as you can get!  I thought that the job was probably something that I could do, and was probably qualified to do with my Family Relations & Child Development degree from Oklahoma State.  I had grown up in the Methodist church, attending church every week as a child.  I would say that I had a strong faith but hadn’t attended church regularly since I had gone to college.  Several weeks after applying for the job, I became the Children’s Minister at this ELCA Lutheran church.  I had no experience with the Lutheran faith and I didn’t even know Children’s Ministry was a “thing.”  However, my new church family welcomed me, and my family, with open arms and they graciously extended me the opportunity to learn and grow.  After almost twelve years, I am still ever thankful for the gift of my calling into Children’s Ministry.  Not only do I love my church, and the kids and families I serve, I love that my children have grown up in a place where they are loved and valued, too.  (I’ve always wondered in the back of my mind if God knew that I would be lousy at church attendance, so God made sure that I had to be in church every Sunday of my life.)

Even though I love my job, ministry isn’t always easy.  Sometimes, it can suck the life right out of you.  Sometimes, it’s easy to focus on the critics and all of the struggles that come along with working for a church.  Sometimes, when you are so passionate about your work, it becomes your life, and you forget about yourself - your true self.  Some people call this burnout.  I had heard of burnout over the years of attending conferences and talking to other, more experienced people in ministry, but I never quite stopped to really listen - until it happened to me.

My burnout (or breakdown) built very slow over several years.  When it finally caught up with me, it wreaked havoc on my life.  It’s hard to explain and I can’t really say why, but it took hold of me upon my return from co-leading a tour to Israel in the spring of 2012.  Depression and crushing anxiety came crashing down.  After years of feeling trapped and feeling like I was constantly drowning, I could no longer play the game of “fake it ‘til you make it.”  I had built a carefully constructed mask of who I was and who people expected me to be: perfect.  It had become my job to simultaneously be a good mother, good wife, good daughter, good sister, good granddaughter, good friend, good Children’s Minister - and most importantly, good Christian - all at the same time.  It was exhausting and I never felt that I was living up to anyone’s expectations.  When I came back from Israel - I cracked.  I separated from my husband.  I detached from friends.  I just barely stayed at the church, though Jesus and I were no longer on speaking terms.  It was my Independence Day.

My loving husband and children, wonderful friends and extraordinary pastor gave me time to work through it.  They gave me room to breathe and the chance to figure myself out.  I sought counseling that saved my life.  When I was most lost upon the sea, this stranger became my lifeboat.  My counselor helped me to look through my past to understand who I had become and helped me to realize that my past shaped me but did not define me.  I happened across a book at the library called “If Buddha Got Stuck” by Charlotte Kasl, which has become a sacred writing to me.  Full of spiritually sound guidance (that wasn’t Jesus-ey), the book helped to make my confusion seem a little clearer and helped me to connect with my true self.  All of these things worked together, God right in the middle of it all (though we still weren’t speaking), and I found healing.  I made amends with friends.  I reconnected with my husband and started working towards a much healthier, much happier marriage.  The mantras of my journey became:

• Honor your feelings.
• Live your truth.
• Follow peace.

I can’t say it was easy, but I walked right through the middle of some very dark and confusing times, and came out a much stronger person on the other side.  It was right in the middle of the darkness, however, that I decided: Either I was going to stop believing in Jesus all together or I needed to go learn more about Him.  I was tired of buying into a brand of Christianity that didn’t fit me.  I felt like a fraud teaching children about a Jesus I was unsure of.  I was so confused by all of the hate and judgement that Christians spew in this world.  How could we believe in the same God?  How could we follow the same Jesus?  I came to a tipping point of either walking away from the Church all together or digging in deeper.  I chose to dig in deeper - and started speaking to Jesus again.

Although I didn’t begin seminary right away, (I still had some work to do on me), this experience is what ultimately pushed me to decide that seminary was something I wanted to pursue.  The voices around me now ask me what I’m going to do with a Master’s degree in theology.  My recovering perfectionist wants to have a perfect plan in place - all laid out nice and neat - for what my future holds.  Yet, truthfully, I don’t really know what I’m going to “do” with another degree.  I’m working on being at peace with the not knowing.  Because my first call from God came in the form of a gift, I’m not sure how I will recognize a new calling.  How will I know when and what I’m called to do next?  I trust the answer to become clear.

If I’ve learned anything throughout the highs and lows of my journey it is this: “…God works for the good of those who love Him, who have been called according to His purpose,” (Romans 8:28, NIV).  It is in these words that I trust and where I find rest.  God is faithful.  God has proven it over and over to me and I know God will continue to be faithful as I continue to walk forward, learning and growing and becoming more and more of the person God created me to be.

Anointed

Well, I must say, I wasn't as impressed by the second episode of "The Bible" as I was the first.  There were a couple things that bothered me, but I won't get into them here.  I'm not sure if I like the fact that God's angels and His army often remind me of Ninjas - or if that bothers me.  I guess I just have never pictured angels looking and acting like Ninjas before.  Who knew?!?

Instead of Ninjas, however, I've decided to focus on the anointing of the Kings.  The prophet Samuel anoints both Saul and David as king of God's chosen people by pouring thick oil upon their foreheads.  This oil, which is depicted to look like thick honey, drips down Saul and David's faces (until you are afraid it's going to get in their eyes).  When we look at deeper into the culture and context of the Story, we find that the anointing of oil is the way in which someone was set apart and chosen by God.  Instead of crowning a king at a ceremony, Hebrew kings were anointed with sacred oil, perfumed with expensive spices.

I am currently reading a book by Lois Tverberg, my newest favorite author.  "Sitting at the Feet of Jesus" looks at how the Jewishness of Jesus can transform our faith - and I'm fascinated.  I read only a couple of nights ago about Kings being anointed with oil.  Lois explains that this expensive oil would only have been used for consecrating objects in the temple and for anointing kings and priests; it would have been more valuable than diamonds.  And the scent of the oil, left behind after being poured out, would have acted like an "invisible crown," conferring an aura of holiness on its recipients.  In the ancient Middle East, royalty was not only expressed by outer garments, as in jewelry and fine robes, but always by majestic "aroma" as well.

We don't often think about the smells of the Bible - but ponder with me a moment.  In Biblical times, the people did not have hot showers in the morning, nor did they even bathe often for water was scarce.  There was no deodorant, and Israel can be a hot place.  No fabric softener to scent the smell of their robes, no scented shampoo or conditioner that would linger in their hair.  There was no Bath and Body Works to provide yummy-smelling soap, lotion, body spray or hand sanitizer.  I can only imagine most of the smells that the people of that day smelled were not pleasant.  But there was this fragrant oil, expensive and sacred.  When you caught a whiff of it in their air, you would know that there was a king nearby, or someone who belonged to God in a special way.

The Hebrew word for Messiah is Mashiach, which mean "the Anointed One."  Christos, or Christ, is the Greek equivalent.  Jesus Christ, the Messiah, came to be the Anointed One.

As we look back on the week before His arrest and crucifixion, we see Mary, a devoted disciple using her hair to cover the feet of Jesus with this same kind of expensive, perfumed oil.  Although this act of devotion also points us to His burial at the end of the week, we can glean deeper significance from this holy anointing.  Mary may very well have been making a statement about who she believed Jesus was - Messiah and King.

The fragrant oil would have clung to Jesus for days.  While He sat with His disciples for the Last Supper, the aroma of the oil would have filled the air.  While Jesus prayed at the Garden of Gethsemane and when he stood before the officers who came to arrest Him, Jesus would have smelt of royalty.  Throughout his trial, and while being mocked and beaten, the aroma of Jesus, King of the Jews, would have been apparent to all nearby.

The aroma of Christ.

"But thanks be to God, who always leads us in triumphant procession in Christ and through us spreads everywhere the fragrance of the knowledge of Him.  For we are to God the aroma of Christ [The Anointed One]..." (2 Corinthians 2:14-15)

We, too, are called to share this fragrant, holy aroma with Christ - anointed with oil in baptism.  My favorite part of baptizing babies is watching my pastor use oil to make the sign of the cross of the on the child's small forehead and hear him say, "You have been sealed by the Holy Spirit and marked with the cross of Christ forever."  As children of God, we share in this anointing with the greatest "Anointed One" of all time.  And this anointing is with us, wherever we may go.

May we live that way.  May we go into the world knowing that we are kings and queens, inside and out.  May we be the aroma of Christ, the Anointed - bringing hope, light and love to a hurting (and often stinky) world.

Curmudgeons

Do you know any curmudgeons?  You know, those bad-tempered, difficult people who seem to always be in your ear?  I've met a few.

Our family decided that each Sunday we are going to sit down together and watch The Bible, the docu-series that is airing on Discovery Channel now until Easter.  It's a Story we have heard before, but in the weeks leading up to Easter, it is my hope that this powerful Story unfolds in new ways before our eyes.

The "Big God Story" has taken on new depth, meaning and importance for me in the past several years.  Now it is being retold in a new way for a new generation and I thought that I would try to share some things that stick out to me each week.  This past Sunday, as we watched the first episode of Creation to Joshua, it was the curmudgeon that stuck out to me.

I'm sure you have heard the story of Moses (if you haven't, it is recorded in the book of Exodus).  This well loved Bible story tells of a baby being put into a basket, sent down the Nile river and found by the Pharaoh's daughter. This Hebrew baby is raised as a prince, while his people are slaves.  One day as he watches one of his Hebrew people being beaten to death, anger stirs within him and he kills the Egyptian who is inflicting the lashings.  Fearing his own life, Moses runs away - thus beginning the events that will change the future of the Israelites.  After several encounters with God, Moses comes back to Egypt to free his people.

You would think that Moses' biggest obstacle would be Pharaoh.  Of course this man, who views himself as God, is not going to want to release the very people who provide the labor for his mighty empire - just because God says so.  And although it does take much time and many plagues to convince Pharaoh to let the Hebrews go - I think that the old curmedgeon would have been just as tough to deal with.

The show depicts one man as always being in Moses' ear, questioning him and telling him that he's not good enough.  Even at the very beginning he scoffs, "God sent you?  Pharaoh is the only God we have to fear."  "You're demented," he says.  As they stand beside the Nile, he whispers to Moses, "If Pharaoh didn't listen to you when he was six feet away, why would he listen to you now?" and yet Moses' staff turns the Nile to blood.  After all the plagues and all the ways in which God shows up and helps Moses, the curmudgeon stands beside the Red Sea and says, "Give up Moses before it's too late!  Were there not enough graves in Egypt that you brought us here to die?  Where is your God now?"  On and on, he tries to tear Moses down.

Moses showed more grace and more patience than I'm sure I would have.  He just kept moving forward, telling the people to trust God.  He never gave up and he never gave in.  The Bible tells us that going into the whole thing Moses tried to convince God to pick someone else for this task.  He was "slow of speech" which may have meant he stuttered.  His brother Aaron became his spokesperson.  Knowing this, I would have to assume that Moses had self-confidence issues from the start but he followed God out of Egypt, led the people through the wilderness and right up to the Promised Land.  Curmudgeons and all.

Do you have those people in your life?  Those people who are in your ear telling you that you're not good enough, that your plans will fail, that you are demented?  Sometimes the voice is our own self-doubt.  Sadly enough, even in ministry, I come up against a lot of curmudgeons.  And I'm not sure why one person's negative words can so dramatically outweigh five peoples praises, but it is true.  It is a constant battle to not let the curmudgeons win and take over.  "That (whatever) was good, but it would have been better if..." or "why don't we do things like (this church)?"  The negative comes through loud and clear. Then I remember a soft voice of an 11-year-old boy who gave me a note just days ago: "Thank you for making the lock-in possible...thank you for getting pizza and Capri Suns...thanks for getting almost front row seats...I liked learning about the three different kinds of love - eros, philo and agape...I've been trying to show more philo to my brothers...you have lots of good ideas."  Oh yeah...that's who I've been called to serve.

And God whispers: "You be you and you be mine."

May we all have the strength of Moses to persevere, to keep going even when curmudgeons tell us that we can't.  May we follow the voice of God, the call of our Savior, and walk in His light.

A Blizzard Children's Message for Parents

Snow covers Tulsa...still...with the promise of more to come (oh yay!). Church has been canceled and everyone is home. I know with each day you are growing more restless and you are running out of things to do with your children. Parents, this gives you the perfect opportunity to give the Children's Message today to your children at home!

No worries, I will walk you through it. Today's Gospel lesson is a continuation of the Sermon on the Mount (from last week). Jesus goes on to tell us that we are the salt of the earth and the light of the world! You will need to gather a few supplies before you begin.

Here is what you will need: a plate, a piece of ice, a piece of string (yarn) that is wet, salt and a flashlight or a candle.
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Okay kids, I have a problem for you to solve today. I need you to pick up this piece of ice with this string. You can't tie it around the ice. Just take the string and lay it over the ice cube and pick it up. Maybe you can try pushing the string and holding it on the ice. (Hopefully they won't out-clever you and figure it out). Do you think that I can do it? (Take the string and lay it on top of the ice and liberally sprinkle salt over the part of the string that is on the ice.) Okay, now we have to wait a minute.

(While you wait) What kinds of things to we use salt for? Why do we use salt?

Okay, let's try it. (Pick up the ice cube with the string; but, just before you pick it up, make sure the ice has not stuck to the bottom of the plate or your string will tear off the ice.) Wow! It worked. How did I do that? It was the salt. The salt made the string freeze to the ice.

In today's Gospel lesson Jesus tells us that we are the salt of the earth. Jesus says, “You are the salt of the earth. But if the salt loses its saltiness, how can it be made salty again? It is no longer good for anything, except to be thrown out and trampled underfoot. You are the light of the world. A town built on a hill cannot be hidden. Neither do people light a lamp and put it under a bowl. Instead they put it on its stand, and it gives light to everyone in the house. In the same way, let your light shine before others, that they may see your good deeds and glorify your Father in heaven." Matthew 5:13-16

What do you think Jesus meant when He said that YOU are the salt of the earth? Here is an interesting way to look at it. The string is like God - He holds the world. The ice is like the world - the world can be a cold and lonely place and desperately in need of God. So, who is the salt? You and I are the salt. The church is the salt. It is our job to help the world come to God. That is our mission in life - to be like salt - helping our friends and our neighbors to understand who God is, how God loves them, and how that they can come to God, too.

Jesus also said that you are the light of the world. We are lucky that we didn't loose our electricity with this snow storm, but what if we did? What if our house was all dark and we couldn't see - what would we need? A flashlight or a candle. And even just one candle would have made the difference in the darkness. Jesus said, "YOU are the light of the world." You can make a difference in other people's lives. When they are sad or hurting, lonely or afraid, you can brighten things for them by sharing Jesus' love. Just like one candle can make the difference in a dark room, your light can make the difference in someone's life, too.

Let's pray: Dear God, thank you for sending Jesus to be the light of the world. Help us as we try to live out His call to be the salt of the earth and the light of the world. In Jesus' name, Amen.

Extra Credit: Sing "This Little Light of Mine" together!
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Good job, friends! Let me know how it goes with your family. Since we won't get to see all of the cute things those kids say and do in front of the church, you'll have to share it with us.

Blessings to you and yours!

The Cost

On Christmas Eve, a homeless man was found in our church. It seems that he has been staying there at night for quite awhile. Although the police were called, no charges were pressed and they let him go. An act of mercy on a cold Christmas eve.

He has since been back to the church, somehow finding a way to pry open a door to get in. Even I had a fearful moment of hearing him in the building and calling the police. We witnessed the police walk around our building with guns drawn only to find nothing. After a week of several trips by the police, our exterior door locks have been made unpriable. We are pretty sure he hasn't been back.

Breaking and entering is against the law, I understand. It's not safe for a stranger to be in our building, I get it. We are responsible for the safety of our congregation, I know. But somehow I still can't stop thinking about it. Who was he? What was his story? Who can blame him for finding a place with heat, a soft couch to sleep on and occasionally some food to eat in the kitchen?

Last Sunday I had the privilege of hearing my mom give the sermon at her church. She spoke about "the cost of Christmas." Not only what Christmas cost us monetarily, but what it cost us in terms of living differently because of the message of Christ's birth. She told stories about people all over the world who risk their lives to live out the Gospel. Many times as the church we build big building and provide expensive programming and yet neglect Jesus' call to help those who are hungry, thirsty, a stranger, without clothes, sick and in prison.

I'm not a big fan of Stephen Colbert, but recently I saw a quote by him that made me stop and think. He said: "If this is going to be a Christian nation that doesn't help the poor, either we have to pretend that Jesus was just as selfish as we are, or we've got to acknowledge that He commanded us to love the poor and serve the needy without condition and then admit that we just don't want to do it."

Without condition.

Four of our youth took a challenge to live homeless at the Salvation Army this past summer. They encountered many people who were good, faithful people, yet homeless. They built relationships with homeless individuals and families that changed their perceptions and misconceptions about who homeless people are.

And then there is the homeless man - Ted Williams - who has been all over the news this past week. The man with the golden voice. Such a remarkable story (and yet the media has to overkill and talk away the good). The man who says he has a God given voice and just wants to do right by it. The two things that struck me most about the story: He was offered a job by the Cavaliers - and after they found out about his rap sheet they were asked if it would change their offer. They said, "No. We believe in second chances." When I watched the original video uploaded by "ritchey" he had several updates on Ted just as the story was breaking. His final update said this: "Whenever you run across a story such as this, don't assume it'll take a life of its own, on its own. It won't. It can't. There are too many other stories that will drown out the one before it...If you care, you'll do it. Keep the faith, pay forward and always lend a hand..."

Which all leads me back to the homeless man at the church. Instead of doing something that would make a difference in his life, we let ourselves be gripped by fear. When I was in the building thinking he was there, I remember being so scared. And even though we have been told we did the right thing - somehow I feel as if we failed.

What does our Christian faith really cost us? It costs us an hour a week going to a worship service (and many times we think that the service is about us and what we get out of it, but is it?). It might cost us an hour in Sunday school or on a Wednesday night. But what does it cost us when it comes to living differently because of our relationship with Jesus? I know we haven't all been called to live radical lives - but when was the last time we stepped out of the safe comfort zone of our lives and really made a difference for the life of someone else? When was the last time we really lived our faith out in the world?

I'm still not sure I have the answer or if I've reconciled all of this. We walk a thin line of living safe, pretty lives and actually loving our neighbor. Sometimes it is really hard to practice what you preach.

Pilgrim Story

Meaningful family stories that are passed down from generation to generation never seem to loose their significance. Thanksgiving always seems to be the time of year when I think about my favorite family story - one that has been passed down for over 300 years.

Since I was a little girl my grandmother has told me that I come from "good blood." I come from good blood because my great-grandmother told my grandmother that she was marrying into good blood on the day she and my grandfather announced their engagement. My grandfather Jean came from good blood because his grandmother was Grace Cushman ... descendant of Thomas Cushman and Mary Allerton. Mary Allerton came to America from Leiden, Holland in 1620 at the age of 4 years on the Mayflower. Thomas came to America in 1621 at the age of 13 years on the Fortune. We come from good blood.

It is fascinating to research and learn more about these people who are so ingrained in the history of this country and with whom I share lineage. Mary Allerton was born 362 years and 1 day before I was born...and on Sunday, she will have died 311 years ago. She was the last living survivor of the Mayflower. Mary sailed on the Mayflower with her father, mother, brother and sister for 66 days. She lost her mother to disease before they even made it to land. Mary was 5 years old when the Pilgrims celebrated the first Thanksgiving with the Native people in the fall of 1621. There were 53 pilgrims (out of 102) who survived the first winter. 90 Natives were also present at the feast that lasted 3 days. Squanto and King Massasoit had taught the Pilgrims how to plant and harvest in the new land and had even shared food with them that first winter. Although they had endured much hardship and suffered many losses, they had much to be thankful for.

We have much to be thankful for as well. Even when times are hard and there is suffering all around, we have much to be thankful for. The brave Pilgrims came to this country is search of religious freedom. Freedom defines our country and I'm thankful and blessed to live in this great country. I am thankful to be free to serve God and follow Jesus without the persecution that many people face all over the world. I am thankful to be surrounded by a loving a supportive church family. I am thankful for the health and love of my family - near and far. I am thankful for friends - near and far, friends I've known for years and those I've just met. I am thankful for the experiences that have made me who I am today.

I am thankful for all of the big things but I'm thankful for all of the small things, too. I'm thankful for hoodies and coffee. I'm thankful for OSU football and the changing colors of the leaves; for smut TV and movies that make me cry. I'm thankful for facebook and google and ipods and cell phones. I am thankful for bonfires and wine parties; for snowflakes and Christmas lights. I'm thankful for clean sheets and pumpkin pie.

I'm thankful for dirty windows, because it means there have been children with dirty hands playing nearby. I'm thankful for dirty dishes because it means my family has plenty to eat. I'm thankful for piles of laundry because it means they have clothes to wear - although maybe too many. I'm thankful for the noise that fills my house because someday I know the child-like voices will be gone and my house will be empty. I am thankful to know who I am and to have people in my life who remind me when I forget.

Today, I am thankful for all those who have come before me, weaving the story of history - especially my Pilgrim ancestors.

My genealogy to Mary:

Mary Allerton (m. Thomas Cushman)

Eleazar Cushman (m. Elizabeth Coombs)

James Cushman (m. Sarah Hatch)

Seth Cushman (m. Abiah Allen)

Seth Cushman Jr. (m. Nancy Rundel)

David Cushman (m. Catherine Kennerly)

Thomas Cushman (m. Elizabeth Baker)
Grace Cushman (m. Clarence Whitlock)
Merle Whitlock (m. Ruth Riggs)
Jean Whitlock (m. Eileen Stitt)
Kim Whitlock Sisk (m. Kip Yarborough)
Kara Yarborough Farrow (ME!)

Show Up

Pastor graciously admitted one of his shortcomings yesterday during his sermon. I guess today is my day to join him in confession.

I've struggled with a lifelong battle against...prayer. There - I said it. I don't have anything against prayer - I know how important it is in our faith - but I've never been able to quite see eye to eye with prayer. Not with God necessarily, just with prayer.

Last night I joined a group of people in a Contemplative Listening class with Sister Ellie Finlay. I carry guilt around about this "prayer battle" and thought I would go see if she could give me some insights. Being a nun - a figure she knows a thing or two about prayer. Pretty early on she asked us: "What is it that brought you here?"

I didn't disclose my battle last night but I think I was able to put it into words in my head. I think I struggle with prayer for two main reasons. First - God knows everything I would ever say anyway. He knows. He's told me before - "I got your back" - so I know He has my back without me even having to ask Him to have it. Anything I'd ever say, He's already heard going around in my head. Second - I'm tired of thinking about and talking about all the stuff constantly going around in my head. Sometimes I'm guilty of not sharing things with my family because I'm just so tired of talking about it! And if God already knows anyway, then I really don't want to talk about it. I know prayer is also about the relationship building stuff but so often I just fall away out of exhaustion.

I share this because maybe you can relate. Some people have flowery, beautiful prayers, but I don't. Some people can easily get up in front of a group a confidently pray. I can't. Sister Ellie confirmed what I knew - it doesn't matter.

We sat in silence for 2 minutes. I'm not a fan of silence...it creeps me out. Well, there was soft music playing so it wasn't completely silent. Anyway, we were just to listen. We didn't have to say anything and if our mind wandered we were to acknowledge the thought and push it aside. She likened it to sitting beside some you love and not having to say anything, just enjoy their presence. So I closed my eyes and cleared my mind. Every time I thought of something that I should tell God, it is almost as if I heard Him whisper, "I know." Over and over, I heard, "I know." So I stopped thinking and just practiced being.

How refreshing to sit with God and not feel like I had to say anything. Sister Ellie said that you just have to "Show up." It's not as if prayer is coming into the presence of God because we are always in the presence of God. He surrounds our every move and every breath. But Sister Ellie said that sometimes prayer is just bringing God to our "recollect." - intentionally bringing Him to the forefront of our mind.

We also talked about starting our day with prayer. That's sounds lovely but it's not something I do. In the convent, Sister Ellie was taught to start each day with reciting Psalm 63 as a morning prayer (at 5:30 am). She did suggest a couple of prompts to help bring God to recollect first thing in the morning. I thought that as long as I'm taking this 6 week class, I could try it out. So I wrote Psalm 63:1 on a post-it and stuck it to my alarm clock. "Oh God, You are my God, eagerly I seek You." Reciting the whole Psalm is a recipe for failure - so I decided to just stick with one verse. That's easy enough to remember. "Pray as you can, not as you can't." Maybe it's enough to bring God to recollect for now.

She taught us many other things - gave us other hints on how to live has Paul encouraged: "Pray without ceasing." I think I'll stick with these two things for now. I'm going to try to just show up at least once a day - and not feel like I have to say anything. And I'll start my mornings bringing God to recollect through Psalm 63:1. Perhaps what I purpose to do for 6 weeks, will bring my battle to an end.

I hope to share more of what I discover along the way. Maybe you can give that two minutes of listening a try, too. After all, He just wants you to show up.