Journeys 8-10-14 "Off to college"

Journeys

8-10-14

We’ve done this before; abandoning a child at an institute of learning and walking away.  With both Katie and Zack, I remember thinking that college dorms had not changed much since I was there (a long, long time ago).  You cram a couple kids into a small room with painted cement block walls.  The entire floor shares a common bathroom.  They eat at a school cafeteria a couple blocks away from their dorm.  This week, its Emily’s turn.

She is so excited/terrified about this next phase of her life.  She’s ready to explore the world outside her home nest.  She’s been ready for a long time. 

I keep having flashbacks to when we dropped her off at a daycare for the first time; took her to kindergarten round-up.  Will she make friends?  Will she like her teachers?  Will she be challenged and thrive and grow.

I remember the feel of her little hand in mine, walking from our house to the school.  At the cross walk we talk about looking both ways for cars when all she sees is the playground  swarming with kids.  She’d practically jumping out of her skin with excitement.  I’m thinking about the possibility of scrapped knees and wondering if I have any band-aids on me.

This week I don’t want to let go of that little hand, but I’ve got to.  The school has already anticipated that moment and scheduled appropriately.  It’s in the brochure, “Time for parents to leave.”  She will be so excited about her new roommate, the dorm floor pizza party, the freshman bonding party/orientation.  She’ll be ready for us to go.  

She’ll have to have to pry us loose from that hug, point to the car and say, “Look both ways now before you cross the street . . . go on now,  you’ll be fine.”

Grace & Peace,

Journeys 2-23-14 The return of the cranes.

It’s something you count on. I look forward to it.  

I find myself squinting toward the sky to see if those are geese, ducks or cranes.  It appears that the geese get to come first, then the ducks, then the cranes.  And even though migrating thousands of miles should count for something, we don’t get half as excited about the geese and ducks as we do the cranes.

Is there enough water in the platte river for the cranes?  Is there too much water?  Did we leave enough corn on the ground to attract them?  

The arrival of the sandhill cranes is a sign that spring is actually going to happen.  They also put us on the map.  Where we live is special because of who they are.  They make our home a tourist destination each spring.  Famous people make an annual pilgrimage to south central Nebraska to see one of the last great migrations on earth.

The cranes are bigger than ducks and geese. Their long legs and huge wing span set them apart in flight.  But the way you can really tell if that “V” flying over is our cranes is the sound.  There is nothing like that sound.  We long for it in February, then can’t get it out of our heads in April.

Their call touches something deep in our souls.  It resonates with some primeval clock that’s set to the turning of the planet. We get to witness something big; something that’s been happening since before our ancestors ancestors even thought about migrating to the high plains to live.  We get to be part of this ancient drive in their tiny bird brains that tells them to stick together and be on the move north for the summer once again.

So just when the events of our world seem to have gone all out of kilter with new shootings every week, congressional budget battles, murders, the threat of another flu epidemic, record snow storms in the east, drought and the threat of wild-fires in the west, we squint toward that black “V” in the sky and hear that sound and we know that they’re back. Something is right with our world.  It’s going to be O.K.

Grace & Peace,

Journeys 2-16-14 "Valentine's Day"

Valentine’s Day.

When you fall in love you lose yourself. No, that’s not quite it. Love smacks you upside the head. Yeah, that’s closer.

There is something about loving another that’s outside your control; like you can’t help yourself.  At the same time, you’ve made a choice to give yourself to it.

I will admit that I have been in love several times in my life.  Sometimes I knew it.  Sometimes I had no idea.  

The father side of me, trying to explain this thing to my pre-teen kids has said that it’s like all of a sudden, that other person’s happiness becomes as important or more important than your own.  Seeing them smile brings a joy that’s bigger than the stars!  And the best is when it is mutual; when they love you and you love them.  That’s not to say that their love is equal to yours.  Cause’ love cannot be measured.  It is as individual and unique as a snow flake. 

My three kids have been in multiple relationships.  And each time they’d fall for another, I’d start fearing “the break-up.”  But a part of me wants them to fall hard and deeply in love; no half-way in the things of the heart.  The other part of me wants to protect them from getting scars and callouses on their souls.  

One side of love is like being knocked over by a huge wave.  The other is a clear conscious decision; the will to give yourself away, to serve, no matter what their response.  Their reception of your love does not matter as much as your desire to give it. 

I have told couples at their weddings that from now on, every day you will wake up and choose to be married.  And that wedding ceremony is the beginning of you publicly telling the world that you choose to love this other person like you love no other person in this world.   And I say that, knowing full well that I could not talk them out of it if I wanted to.  Cause' love has smacked them upside the head and they re out of their minds, head over heals, gaga over each other.  And it’s just fun to be in the same room with the power and depth of that love.

Grace & Peace,

Rev. Kelly

Pastor's Page November 2013 Newsletter

Pastor’s Page

November 2013

This has been one of the prettiest falls in recent memory.  We’ve had several still crisp days with nothing but clear blue skies. There have been actual leaf colors for an extended period of time.  The reds are redder and the yellows yellower.  I’ve even witnessed several  trees whose leaves just fell straight down like a leaf shadow on the ground.

Having grown up in Nebraska, I don’t expect much from fall.  Lots of years, it lasted around three days.  You could go from 90 degrees to a snow storm in 12 hours time.  And a lot of those snow storms knocked all the leaves down in one fail swoop.  Other years, the rain and wind took fall and blew it to South Dakota before we really got a chance to get a good look at it.

This year we’ve been given a long slow soak of fall.  We’ve eased into a gradual transition toward winter.  It almost makes you think that if fall is this good, then maybe winter can’t be that bad!  Almost!

But we high plains weather survivors never forget bad weather.  It sticks with us.  When some transplanted southerner comes in from an October blizzard and says, “Have you ever seen it like this in October?”  We say, “Oh, yea, I’ve seen worse!”

So it’s this good weather that un-nerves us.  We’re afraid that if we smile with deep sighs; soaking in the deep angle of the sun too much, we’ll be punished for that later.  

But this year I invite you to join me and go against those weather survivor instincts.  Sneak in some true appreciation and gratitude for these days framed by geese in the sky and a carpet of deep colored leaves on the ground.  Take an extra second to burn the memory of that flaming red tree into your brain.  After all, you and I both know that it could be years before we ever get to see that sight again.

Grace & Peace,

Rev. Kelly

Journeys 10-27-13 The least if these

Journeys
10-27-13
Today is the fourth in a series of sermons using the book, "The Simple Faith of Mister Rogers," by Amy Hollingsworth.  The focus today is, "The Least of These.”

"Out of his deep hurt came a longing to soothe the pain of others, and out of the callous disregard of schoolyard bullies came a determination to only lift up- and never demean- his neighbor…At last I had it: Fred's intense devotion to the disenfranchised, to the least of these, arose from the realization that he was one of them." - Amy Hollingsworth, The Simple Faith of Mister Rogers, 2005

As Amy says, Fred Rogers' ability to see and minister to the least of these happened because he saw himself as one of those, "least people."  I can relate to that.

I was 12 when my family moved from Albion, NE to Overland Park, KS so my Dad could go to seminary.  My new middle school had more kids than the entire population of Albion, NE.  My seventh grade year was hell.  I was always getting my books knocked out of my hands in the hallways.  Then when you got down to pick them up you got kicked and shoved by the masses.  Eventually, I made friends through band, choir and football.  And thankfully, I grew a foot between seventh and ninth grade. So, by ninth grade, I was one of the big kids in that school.

So that ninth grade year, I remember seeing an eighth grader knock the books out of the arms of some scrawny seventh grader right in the middle of a major bottle-neck between hallways.  So I proceeded to throw that eighth grader up against the lockers and made him get down and pick up all those books and give them back to the shivering "sevey."   Cause that shivering scrawny kid was me just two years ago.

So don't let me ever see you dump somebodies else’s books around church, or you'll answer to me!  I've been there, done that.

Grace & Peace,

Rev. Kelly

Father's Day Journeys 2013

Journeys

6-16-13

Today is Father’s Day.  It is my first Father’s Day spent without my Dad.  For years on Father’s Day we Karges sons would migrate home for a meal (usually dinner out at Misty’s in Lincoln). We’d give him the golf club or golf accessary we’d gone together to buy and he and Mom would wallow in the joy of having as many kids and grandkids around as possible.  

This year, we’re all getting used to the new normal of not having Dad around anymore.  As with all families after a loss, this first year of firsts without them is hard.  So I find myself out of sorts this Father’s Day.  I miss him.  And Father’s Day has dredged up all these questions that I never got to ask him, like: “What was it about all those Norman Vincent Peale “Power of Positive Thinking” books that he had in his bathroom library that took him from the dairy to seminary?”  or, “Why did he wait ‘til his Dad died before he did anything about his call to the ministry?”

This year, Father’s Day is processing me way to much to put much more reflection down on paper, so I leave you with bits and pieces of James Emery White’s list of what a good father is.

“...a good father is…

 ...one who knows that children have only one love language – time;…one who daughters want to marry, and sons want to emulate;…one you know will protect you and defend you;…one who provides everything you need (but not necessarily everything you want);…one who is brave when you are scared;…one who teaches you how to treat a woman, and what you should expect from a man;…one who cherished your mother;…one who is stronger, and taller, than you (at least, at first);…one who taught you how to swim, how to ride a bike, how to throw a ball, how to open a door for a woman, how to…you get it;…one who taught you how to drive;…one who set curfews;…one who didn’t make a big deal of the things you thought he would, but did of the things that you know, now, mattered;…one who took you out “trick or treating”;…one who drove you to your first day at school, your first day at college, and your first day at…;…one who paid the ticket;…one who introduced you to God;…one who, most of all, loved you so much he would have laid down his life for yours in a heartbeat.  And still would. Happy Father’s Day. From all of us Dads.  You’ll never know how much we love you. Or maybe, now, you will.”

Grace & Peace,

Rev. Kelly

Journeys 11-25-12 Post-Thanksgiving

The Sunday after Thanksgiving

I think I like Thanksgiving leftovers as much or more than Thanksgiving dinner itself.  

See at the dinner, the appearance of your plate is important.  I go for balance on my Thanksgiving plate.  Not too much of any one thing.  An equal amount of Aunt Janet’s and Sister-in-law Dianne’s contribution is critical.  And there is only one answer to the question, “Did you like the ________?”  Of course you did.  Give the wrong answer and you might get booted from the table before the pies came out.  

The truth is not important at the Thanksgiving table.  It is appreciation that counts.  You can talk about how salty the dressing was in the car on the way home.  But when you’re around that table everything is “So wonderful!” . . . (or else!).

Leftovers are a whole other ball game.  By the next meal, you’ve had a chance to sample everything and make your post-Thanksgiving dinner choices appropriately.  You can put gravy and/or cranberry sauce on everything.  Appearance has nothing to do with it.  But your leftover choices are all about gratitude.  After Thanksgiving I’m really grateful for turkey dark meat and the crust at the bottom of the stuffing pan.  I’m thankful that I’m the only one who knows that grandma’s pineapple casserole is hidden at the back of the refrigerator in that cool whip container.  

This year, I’m thankful that we have an entire weekend between Thanksgiving and the onset of Advent.  This is a very rare thing.  So we better enjoy it while we’ve got it.  Thank you! Thank you! Thank you!

Grace & Peace,

Journeys 11-18--12 Thanksgiving

Thanksgiving Day is one of the few “stopping” holidays that still exists in the U.S.A.  Sure, there are some restaurants that stay open.  Hospitals, gas stations, and fast food places don’t close.  But schools, and most businesses and manufacturing places give folks the day off for Thanksgiving.  So most Americans stop and get together with family and/or friends to eat together as a way of saying thanks for the many blessings of our lives.

 A lot of families attach other traditions to this national day of thanks.  Some go hunting every Thanksgiving.  Some have to watch the NFL or NBA on T.V..  My wife and kids have always watched the Macy’s Thanksgiving Day Parade on T.V.  We also have to have both turkey and ham, green bean casserole, southern cornbread dressing, mashed potatoes, Grandma Karges’s pineapple casserole and chutney cranberry sauce for the meats.

Since our kids were little, we’ve also added going to a movie Thanksgiving night.  A lot of those were the new Disney animated feature (i.e., Beauty and the Beast, Lion King, Toy Story etc.).

When we lived in Charleston, South Carolina, my Mom and Dad would drive from Nebraska and meet us half-way in Nashville and we’d stay at some Residence Inn and go to Cracker Barrel for the Thanksgiving meal.

This year my family will be traveling to Raleigh, North Carolina to see our son Zack.  The seniors in the NC State marching band will be recognized at half-time of the football game on Friday.  He’s really enjoyed his four years playing the snare drum in the 325 member Wolfpack marching band.  We’ll get to see Cindy’s sister’s family; including her niece’s and nephew’s families while we’re there.  

Those who were members when my Dad and Mom, Rev. Gil and Connie Karges were here (for 13 years) will enjoy seeing them next Sunday as they come and take care of things while we’re gone.

May God be with us and help us to stop to give thanks for all the blessings of our lives.  May God also be with us as we step onto that moveable walkway called Advent that will accelerate us toward Christmas at break-neck speed.

Grace & Peace,

Journeys 12-11-12 Consecration Sunday

Today is Consecration Sunday at the Doniphan Church.  Our Stewardship Campaign concludes with a special guest preacher; my wife, Rev. Cindy Karges, Senior Pastor of Hastings Grace & Junieta UMCs.  We’ll also celebrate our church’s ministry at the Harvest Dinner at noon.  Today at Doniphan, we’ll begin to give folks an opportunity to fill out commitment cards, stating our financial commitment to our church’s ministry in 2012.

Cindy has served United Methodist churches in Nebraska and South Carolina.  She has been pastor at North Bend, Morse Bluff and Hooper, NE; Trinity UMC, in Charleston, SC and Barada UMC just north of Charleston in a national forrest.  Then, she came back to Nebraska at Ainsworth and Johnstown UMCs, Seward and Beaver Crossing UMCs; Faith UMC in Lincoln and Centenary UMC in Beatrice, NE.  

The emphasis of this year’s campaign is that our giving deepens our relationship with God.  When we give of our prayers, presence, gifts, service and witness, we are doing so because we’ve felt touched by God and want to reciprocate.  God has transformed us, healed us, or let us know we’re not alone and brought us through a time of regret, repentance and forgiveness.

As in all friendships, God has made a move toward us, and we want to make a move toward God.  So we give ourselves to God; to the work of God; to things we think will make God happy.    And we give back as a sign of our seriousness about the relationship, out of our need to grow into a deeper relationship.

I’ve not met anyone yet who knows the limits of a relationship with God.  Like a great friendship, the more you get into it, the deeper you want to go.  And the relationship changes you.  Over time you become more Godlike; bearing fruits of the spirit (love, joy, patience, kindness, generosity, faithfulness and self-control).  It is a growth process that never stops.

Today, we celebrate what we do in response to the love of God; our giving.  Today, we stand together to say that we want to grow closer to God.  And I believe that God has let us know that the way we do that is by giving ourselves away in service to each other, and, in serving the least and lost of our world.

Grace & Peace,

Journeys 12-4-12 Hurricane Sandy

I opened my kitchen drawer and pulled out my old fashioned hand operated can opener and had to laugh.  Ever since we survived hurricane Hugo while living in Charleston, South Carolina, we’ve sworn never to buy another electric can opener again.  When you live without electricity for 14 days, you learn to appreciate clean drinking water and appliances that work without having to be plugged in.  

Watching folks in New Jersey and New York recover form hurricane Sandy this week, I had to wonder if they’d picked up a good non-electric can opener while they cleaned out the canned goods from the grocery stores.  Without a good can opener, a natural gas stove and/or propane grill, cooking without electricity is nearly impossible.

After Hugo we also learned how big your generator has to be to run a TV or refrigerator.  Those little generators are for a few lights.  You need a monster generator to give you enough juice for a major appliance.  And you smell the fumes from those generators for several hundred feet. 

I also got to thinking about those non-powered weeks so long ago.  Unless you had a gas water heater, you had to go to a lot of effort to take a shower with anything but cold water.  And the national guard imposed a strict curfew after the sun went down.  So night time meetings ground to a halt.

It was so quiet those first few days after the storm.  Then the generators started arriving and it got real noisy real fast.

We also learned that the United Methodist Committee on Relief is known to be one of the first the arrive and one of the last to leave.  We are also known as great relief and community organizers.  

Please keep the victims of Hurricane Sandy in your prayers this week.  The recovery from this storm is going to take a long, long time.  Also be on the look out for special offerings from the victims of the storm (make your checks out to UMCOR US Disaster Response, Advance #3021787).  What we give goes directly to the victims ‘cause the church has already covered the administrative costs.

Grace & Peace,

Journeys 10-28-12 Imagine No Malaria

We’ve been doing a new thing the past several weeks during children’s time at the Doniphan Church.  We’ve got this big glass fish bowl for collecting coins that the kids can bring forward as an offering to help kids around the world buy malaria nets.  So not only do their coins help others, they make a lot of noise when you drop them in!  And, we adults get to see the smiles on the kids faces when they bring their coins forward.

One of our young dads, (thanks Josh Leth!), brought this idea from another church and asked if we could give it a try.  And it so happened that the kids had raised money for malaria nets during Vacation Bible School this summer.  So we thought we’d just continue doing that with the fish bowl during children’s time.  You can google “Imagine No Malaria, “ and see what our United Methodist Church is doing to stamp out this killer disease.  Here’s some tidbits from that web site:

“Every 60 seconds, malaria claims a life in Africa. Millions of lives, needlessly lost each year. Imagine No Malaria is an extraordinary effort of the people of The United Methodist Church, putting our faith into action to end preventable deaths by malaria in Africa, especially the death of a child or a mother.  Achieving this goal requires an integrated strategy against the disease. As a life-saving ministry, Imagine No Malaria aims to empower the people of Africa to overcome malaria’s burden. We fight malaria with a comprehensive model.

So here’s the plan: we’re gonna put 160 years of know-how and experience in Africa to work against malaria. This comprehensive approach is divided into four main parts:

Prevention: It’s about improving the ways people fight the disease locally.  Using bed nets. Access to diagnostic tests and medicine. Draining standing water. Improving sanitation.  Every person can take steps to prevent malaria deaths, from protective measures to taking swift action when malaria symptoms begin.

Treatment: Improving infrastructure. There are literally hundreds of churches, schools, hospitals and clinics operated by The United Methodist Church in Africa, but what good are they if medicines to treat malaria aren’t available?  We’ll make sure these facilities have the diagnostic tests and treatment needed to save lives.

Education: It’s about outreach to those who need it most. Last year alone, we trained thousands of local people in African communities to teach their communities about avoiding malaria. In Sierra Leone, these workers went door-to-door to deliver bed nets, install them in homes and teach folks how to properly use and care for the nets.

Communications: And finally, your support helps upgrade communications networks throughout the continent. Building new radio stations and providing hand-crank and solar-powered radios will ensure we are reaching great numbers of people with life-saving information about malaria.

Special thanks to all who’ve placed those coins in those little hands to bring up & put in our new fish bowl.  Grace & Peace

Journeys 10-21-12 "The Wind"

As of this writing, we are in our second day of 30-50 mile-an-hour winds.  I don’t know anybody who likes to be outside when the wind is like this!  

The wind adds an urgency to my life.  I feel more rushed when I’m in the wind, cause I just want to get out of it as fast as I can.  Driving up to the office on Highway 281 today the wind was from the west.  And when I drove past a farmstead on the left I almost went in the ditch cause I didn’t realize how much I was over-compensating just to keep going straight!

Then when I turned right to go into Doniphan it was as if somebody pulled the plug on wind fan.  Having the wind at your back is like taking a dip in the pool on a 100 degree day.  It was so refreshing. On the other hand, walking into the wind is a leaning, head down, continuous effort to breath/see where you’re going, and not get blown over kind of thing.

Then there is the dust in the air and the pink hew to the clouds from the sun trying to break through the haze.  Folks with breathing problems don’t even try to go outside with these winds.

The Hebrew word for wind is “ruach.” It also gets translated as "spirit" or "breath."  So Ruach Elohim is translated “Spirit of God.” In Genesis 1:2 it says, “ . . . the earth was a formless void and darkness covered the face of the deep, while the spirit (or wind) of God was over the waters  . . . .”  Ruach was what God gave to Adam to bring the clay man to life.  When applied to God, the word Ruach indicates creative activity (Gen 1:2) and active power (Isa 40:13).  In (Job 33:4) it says, “The Spirit of God hath made me, and the breath of the Almighty hath given me life.” 

This week we got to experience the full awesome power of ruach on the high plains.  After being in 60 mile-an-hour gusts, it is easy to see how our ancient ancestors in the faith labeled this all consuming force, "The Breath of God.”

Grace & Peace,

Journeys 10-14-12 Church Conference Meeting

There was a time in American United Methodist Church history when each church hosted the District Superintendent four times a year for a Quarterly Conference.  It was a time to check in and see how the church was doing.  Quarterly Conferences also happened when there were still large circuits of churches served by Circuit Riders who would cover their 10-20 churches one Sunday at a time preaching and serving Holy Communion where-ever they went.  Sunday School was what happened on Sundays when the Circuit Rider was not there.

Now, we don’t have huge circuits or circuit riders.  Pastors may have a three or four point charge.  But parishes larger than that are rare.  Now, we’ve also evolved to an annual “Church Conference” meeting with the District Superintendent (Rev. Harold Backus).  But the basic tone of the meeting is still a checking in; seeing how we’re doing; asking what our dreams are for the future.

So today at 1 p.m. at the Doniphan church our parish (Doniphan & Rosedale churches) will have its annual Church Conference meeting with our District Superintendent.  I am asking each person who attends to share what is their favorite thing about the church and/or where they have seen God in the church this past year.  

Church Conferences have evolved to be more a celebration of our ministry this past year, and sharing our desires for our ministry to each other, the community and the world in this next year.  Now, it is the District Superintendent who goes on a circuit each fall; meeting with 70-80 churches in less than 90 days.  Today, Rev. Backus has Church Conferences in three different towns at 1 p.m., 4 p.m. and 7 p.m.

Church Conference is open to all members and friends of the Doniphan and Rosedale churches.  You do have to be a member of those churches to have a vote, however.  Stop on by at 1 p.m. at the Doniphan church.  I’m pretty sure we’re the only church that will have a drumming circle as part of Church Conference this year.

Grace & Peace,

Journeys 10-7-12 World Communion Sunday

Meaning gets attached to food all the time.  When my kids come home from college, we fix their favorite food (White Chicken, Rice, and green beans).  In our house it is comfort food.  In some homes, on your birthday, you get to name your meal.  Certain foods are expected on Thanksgiving, Christmas and Easter.  If those foods are not on the table, something is wrong. The meal doesn’t mean the same to us.

In the Christian tradition, everyone in the church family eating a bit of bread and wine/juice has meaning attached to it. It symbolizes taking Jesus’ presence into us. Consuming/digesting these elements of an ancient Hebrew Passover meal has meant something to the followers of Jesus ever since that last Passover meal that Jesus shared with his friends.  The bread and juice also symbolize starting over; re-booting; pushing the re-start button on our souls.  So anything we’ve done that we regret, or wish we could re-do can be left at the altar and given over to God when we come forward for communion.  And after we’ve taken the bread and juice, we can return to our seat as a new person; a more Godly/Jesus kind of person. It has that kind of meaning.

Today, hundreds of different kinds of Christian churches from all over the world are celebrating holy communion with us.  We may not agree on juice or wine, bread or wafers, but we’re all recalling that last passover meal that Jesus shared with his friends.  We’re all attaching some meaning to this symbolic meal.  In taking communion, we’re all  saying Jesus means something to us.  And without him, our lives would have less meaning.

Happy World Communion Sunday.

Grace & Peace,

Journeys 9-30-12 Homecoming

This week was Homecoming at Doniphan/Trumball and Giltner High Schools.  This next Saturday is the annual Fall Festival at Doniphan.  Homecoming/Fall Festival week is when a lot of former Doniphanites return to their roots to see old friends at high school class reunions and family reunions, or, to just have lunch with the entire town on Saturday of Fall Festival.

There are just a few homecoming times each year.  After this, we’ll have Thanksgiving, then Christmas, then Easter.  As one who has been away and come back, there is something to be said for checking in with your family/community of origin every once in a while.  

For years, when I lived elsewhere, we’d watch our kids in the Harvest of Harmony parade in Grand Island, then I’d bring Mom and Dad out to Doniphan for Lunch.  They’d work the room, thoroughly enjoying seeing friends from their 13 years here in ministry.  I’d stand next to my friend Mark Haskins and chat with him while he worked his shift at taking the trash out.  It was rare that harvest kept Mark from his annual contribution to the Fall Festival.  Little did I know that someday, I would be your pastor and be judging the Fall Festival parade along with the other pastors in town.

Homecoming implies giving thanks for where you came from and who you are as a result.  Coming home settles the traveling dust of your soul.  Our religious heritage is full of homecoming stories; coming home to who God made you to be.  Centering Prayer teaches the concept of finding your “True Self,” that deep inner-soul place where your spirit and God’s spirit co-exist.  

I like to think that our True Self is one that has found its way back to God and who God meant you to be.  So worship every Sunday can be a homecoming of sorts; coming home to God.

Grace & Peace,

Pastor's Page, Oct. Newsletter 2012

We all have the stuff that we do at about the same time every year. Then as the years roll around we can gage where we are.  So we ask ourselves, “Am I doing this earlier, or later than last year?  It is normal?  Or, is this year way different than before?”

This year harvest is a good two weeks earlier than last year.  You can tell that the farmers are both giddy about how much they’ve got done already, and, scared about what kind of winter we’re gonna get this year.

We’ve been living and driving in the corn alleys since mid-June.  Now, the corn walls are coming down.  And we’re having to get used to the wide open spaces once again. Our brains are having to readjust to this new view that stretches all the way to the horizon. 

Meanwhile farm families are zoned in on the multiple steps that it takes to get the crops tucked in at the elevator or grain bin.  All available resources and time are funneled toward this one month harvest effort.  The work of an entire year culminates now.  

Farm family or not, harvest effects us all.  You can feel the invisible urgency in the air.  And with the early harvest we’re all turning our attention to the pending winter earlier than ever.  

God be with us in this time of transition between seasons.  Will this year’s October be more like last year’s November?  Stay tuned!

Grace & Peace,

Journeys 9-23-12 Dust

Thursday was one of those rare days in Nebraska.  No wind. No breeze. Nothing.  Driving to and from a district pastor’s meeting in Geneva, I’d see these moving columns of dust that just went straight up into the clear blue sky.  I knew that somewhere in there was a green, red, yellow or slightly orange combine chewing up a field of soybeans.  Trucks or Semis were lined up at the end of the field. And harvest was rollin’!  In the morning that field was gray/brown and fuzzy.  By afternoon, it was shaved low to the ground and naked.

I don’t care how good the air-conditioning or how tight those seals are on those combine cabs.  Those drivers had to have felt like dust magnets.  No matter how fast you go, on days like that, you are the dust cloud maker.  Its a job that’s done from the inside-out.  You are at one with the dust; a living, walking “Pig Pen” from a Charlie Brown cartoon.  And you don’t want to hear anything more about how the bible says, “From dust you came, and to dust you will return.”

By nightfall that day, the dust from combines in bean fields and trucks on gravel roads had settled  and spread into low-lying areas as a moistureless fog.  The next day, that dust would be recycled and boosted with gusts of wind.  And a small percentage of Nebraska would now be Kansas.

It is impossible to live life without dust.  Part of me would love for everything to be clean and neat all the time.  But that’s just not possible.  If you’re going to harvest beans, dust happens.  You can’t have one without the other.  The dust is a well known marker that harvest has begun.

Thank you God for the harvest and all that goes with it.  May our equipment operators be safe as they bring the crops in.  And thank you God, even for the dust.

Grace & Peace,

Journeys 9-16-12 "Remembering the rain."

I found myself just standing in the rain on Wednesday afternoon, ‘cause it felt so good.  It had been so long since I’d felt good hard driving rain that it took my brain a little while to process the signals my skin was sending. Not only was it wet.  It was cold too!

After what seemed like an entire summer without rain.  I’d forgotten what it felt like.  The other day, I pointed to the sky and joked with my farmer friend Mark, “Look, . . .  those are clouds.  Remember clouds?  Water doesn’t just come from the ground, it can come from the sky too!”  He was not amused.

It is easy to forget the good things of life sometimes.  Rain doesn’t show up for 30 days and I’ve already forgotten what it looks like.  Your teenager pouts around for a week and you forget how when they are happy, their laughter takes over their whole body.  Your family member goes into the hospital and is pale and all hooked up to IVs and you can’t remember the last time you saw them standing up and smiling.

The bad of life has a habit of wiping out the memories of the good.  But I believe that the good memories are not gone.  They’re still there.  They’ve just been hidden by the dark clutter that causes fear; drought, illness, tragedy, car wrecks, cancer, fire, floods, strokes, tornados etc.

In the past, when I’ve been surrounded by darkness and fear, I’ve found myself asking God to help me remember just one blessing in my life.  And that one good memory can sometimes help me realize that I am not totally surrounded by darkness.  That one small glimmer of light can start a turnaround in my thinking that brings me back to a whole memory bank of blessings I thought I’d lost.

Remembering the rain is only the beginning.

Grace & Peace,

Rev. Kelly

Journeys 9-9-12 Blue Hill Bus Crash

Cindy and I were co-pastors at Seward when their buses carrying their high school band crashed on the way home from a competition in Omaha, killing four.  So when the fifteen passenger van filled with Broken Bow high school basketball players and coaches crashed this past year, my brother Todd, pastor of the United Methodist Church there called me to ask me about that Seward bus crash experience.

I shared with him our experience of community grief at four community-wide funerals.  And how that grief affected everything; the band, the school and churches for a very long time.  We also talked about how when children die tragically like that, it messes with we adults’ sense of the order of things.  We do not expect our children to die before us.  That’s not the way its supposed to happen.  

I told my brother Todd that my experience as pastor both at Seward and in Charleston, SC after hurricane Hugo was that if there were people on the edge, emotionally, before these tragedies, this sent them tumbling over that edge.  

Today we join churches all over this state in praying for the folks of the Blue Hill area.  Four people, (two adults & two children) were killed in a tragic bus crash on Wednesday.  We pray for the families who lost a loved one.  We pray for their churches and school and community.  We do what we know how to do to offer comfort and support to their overwhelming grief and shock.

When our child died in the midst of being born in 1994, folks gave us tons of books and pamphlets to help us.  For us, the best book turned out to be one called, “The Worst Loss,”  by Barbara D. Rosof.  We’ve given that book to families who’ve lost a child ever since.  At Seward, the folks from “The Compassionate Friends” in Omaha who specialize in grief and ministering to parents who’ve experienced the death of a child sent us boxes and boxes of materials to pass out to the community.  We’ve shared that web-site ever since.

These materials help folks when they start to come out of the fog of grief and are searching for a way to make sense of the brokenness of their lives.  The community of Blue Hill and all of us surrounding communities will be doing everything in our power to support and hold up those who have experienced this tragic loss; to keep them from drowning in their loss, until they can once again swim on their own.  So please include these folks in your daily prayers for these next several months.  I know from experience that they feel these prayers.  Thanks.

Grace & Peace,

Journeys 9-2-12 Labor Day Weekend

For Nebraskans, Labor Day Weekend used to be a major pilgrimage weekend to Lincoln.  You’d have all those UNL students who’d just moved in, the State Fair and the first Husker home football game, causing the population of Lincoln to double.  Parking was impossible.  Getting from one side of town to another took forever because of traffic.  

Now, we have evolved so that the State Fair and all those cars are in Grand Island.  So all you have in Lincoln is an additional 25,000 UNL students and 85,000 people dressed in red migrating to Memorial Stadium for the first home Husker football game.  

Labor Day is still a crossing over weekend.  We cross over into full fledge school schedules and all that accompanies them; Girl Scouts, Boy Scouts, dance and lessons of all kinds.  With Labor Day we close the book on Summer and start looking towards Fall.  In Nebraska we can predict that from here, September can be as hot as July, followed by a slight cool off before the glorious two weeks of Indian Summer in October that precedes the first snowfall.

Labor Day weekend is also second only to Memorial Day weekend for the scheduling of family reunions.  It is the last four day weekend until Thanksgiving.  And if your local pool has not closed by now, it will shut down after Labor Day.

In the church, Sunday School, KIX (our children’s afterschool program on Wednesdays), and Youth Group all start up quickly after Labor Day.  We’ll have sign up sheets out there for the Fall Financial Peace University and the Fall Adult Study on forgiveness.  The summer break from programing ends after Labor Day.  And we have to get serious about filling out those Church Conference forms after Labor Day (Parish Church Conference, Oct. 14th)!

So now is the time to be in prayer, asking God to help you to discern if you need to take one of those new adult classes this fall.  This is when you put those children and youth programs into that calendar you’ve got on your refrigerator. And rest up today and tomorrow, ‘cause the speed of life is about to accelerate toward Christmas.  It will be taking off in five, four, three . . two . . . one.  Lift off!

Grace & Peace,