Forever a child . . .

It's amazing how God talks even when you don't want God to talk . . . even when you have made it clear you're not in the mood for a conversation . . .God talks anyway. Now whether we listen, that's a different story. And yesterday evening, I wasn't in the mood to listen -- at least not at the time God was trying to get me to talk. I could hear God asking me to pray . . . talk to him, but I didn't feel like praying. And God didn't push. He just walked with me, kind of like the tag along kid that you wish would go away.

I was just coming out of a conversation with someone who had my brain so overloaded with these thoughts of how ministry should be approached in this age of IM'ing, Twitter and all of these other electronic forms of gathering information instantaneously, that I began to think that maybe I'm not fit to do ministry in this age. I started to wonder why would God pick this 38-year-old woman who rather write her notes in class in her notebook than on her computer or listen to the lectures downloaded and who'd rather still listen to her music on CD's than on an ipod and who'd rather comb through books in the library to research her text for her sermon. How do I do ministry that captures those who respond to information so differently?

I was preparing for my prayer class last night and I knew I needed to focus. The topic was Prayers of the Heart . . . the prayers that move us to become more intimate with God . . . the prayers that moves us into the presence of God. . . the prayers that the Jesuit priest Jean-Nicholas Grou says is the prayer the heart prays and the voice that God listens and responds to. Prayers of the Heart are the heart-to-heart talks we have with God. As I sat there listening to the other members talk about their heart experiences or lack thereof, I found myself drawn in by one revelation that was lifted up. It was the reminder that: "You don't have to be grown up with God!"

The woman who shared this took this from the image of God who is a nurturing parent . . .a God who is described in Hosea as a Father who takes his children into his arms, and leads them with "cords of compassion" and with "bands of love" and bends down to feed them. A God who is described in Isaiah as a mother comforting her child. A God who invites us all to crawl into God's lap, receive his love, allow his healing and strength to overflow onto us. A God who allows us to laugh and cry freely in arms that wrap around us tight.

I like that image. I like knowing that this "big kid", who still struggles and is often frustrated with the twisting, turning, winding roads in her life, can still snuggle into the arms of her parent and be loved on, hugged and caressed until all is better. I liked that even though I wasn't talking to God, God still chose to talk to me.

And it was what I needed.

God in the details . . .

A funny thing -- funny ironic thing -- happened in Old Testament II class today. I think I got a glimpse of the Holy Spirit hanging out in there. Yes, I said it, the Holy Spirit. This class may turn out not to be so bad after all. The fact that the professor shared tidbits of his faith foundation (giving indication that he believes in God) and we started the class with prayer tells me there is hope for Jesus to show up in class this time. I know for some it may even sound strange that I would write something like this. I mean, I'm in seminary. It would stand to reason that the Holy Ghost would be in every nook and cranny of this place, practically hanging from the ceilings ready to pounce. But sadly, that isn't the case. Like Jesus, the Holy Spirit only comes by invitation. And sometimes I think that even if an invitation were sent out, we might find that the Holy Spirit's address was no longer valid.

It's only the first day -- Introduction Day -- and already I'm thinking . . . hoping . . . praying that this class will actually live out the truism the professor proclaims: that "scripture is he word of life" and that there can't be proper interpretation unless there is empathy and evaluation in dealing with the text. One without the other either lends itself to superficiality or cynicism.

I saw enough of that last semester. And frankly, I wasn't sure I would see too much of anything else. But God always gives us a glimpse of a shining light. This semester his name is Dr. Mark Strawn.

God visited Room 252 today . . .

I just experienced one of the most emotional chapel services today since I've been here. I mean it was one of those services where I just wanted to Shout "JESUS!!!!!" from the top of my lungs and run and jump up and down. The spirit was just that heavy, but I held back. My tears didn't. For a few moments, my eyes were like a running faucet. I just couldn't seem to turn them off. And we weren't even in the chapel today. We were in the lecture hall where I take Old Testament and that was the strange part. I felt God there more than any other time I've been in chapel. (Now, I don't necessarily feel him in Old Testament, but he was hanging out in the room today.)
I felt God through the liturgies, through the confessional prayers recited openly and through the singing -- even those in languages I did not understand, but knew were being shared with the same God I serve.

And the good thing about it was I wasn't the only one feeling what I felt. In talking to my other sisters following the service, they too, expressed their urge to jump and shout and call on the name of Jesus in foreign tongues. They too experienced a deeper, more intimate worship with Jesus today.

I think we all agree we needed it. I know we felt better after it, lighter and less burdened.

I hope that won't be the last of those classroom services! Who knows, next time, I just may break out into a full sprint or at least a shouting dance. Let's hope when I do, I don't scare my Anglo brothers and sisters or worse knock them down and run them over!