October Reflection

 Hi! We've made it to November. And for most of us that feels like a feat. For most of us too, it also feels like we're *still* in the middle of whatever this is. 

This, 2020...

But here we are, at a different place than we were one month ago, one day away from a national election.

Deep breaths everyone.

I've been inspired by author and podcaster Emily P. Freeman to engage in a little reflection practice before we timidly set foot in yet another month. She says, "Intentional reflection is a way to bare witness to your own life."

And, "One common mistake we make when we have the desire to make good decisions is that we try to peer into the future to discover what it might hold, what the outcomes we want to achieve are, and what roadblocks we wish to avoid. The only problem is that the future hasn't happened yet, so how can it possibly teach us? Instead of looking ahead and guessing about outcomes, there's something to be said for looking back and gathering information."

So, three questions for the end of October are:

1. Where did you see God in October?

2. What made you laugh out loud in October?

3. What is one word you're holding onto as we move into November?

I hope my answers can provide some encouragement and inspiration for your own end of the month reflection.

1. Where I saw God in October.

As I stop and think back on the month, I see God everywhere. In between the calendar days, in the nooks and crannies of our lives. Twice a month, I meet with my spiritual mentor. Because of Covid, we've adapted to meeting on her covered (thank you God!) front porch with heaters and blankets and coffee. Within this short span of barely two hours, sandwiched between dropping off and picking up my boys from their respective places, sits a moment. A moment where depth is abundant, grace is given freely, confessions are heard, and the roots of growth grow deeper. These moments might only add up to four hours a month, but we must not mistake them for only that. I am learning that in the middle of the noise, as I shut the doors on either side, God is there, and the view is full of life.

I see God in the communion.

I see God in the talking and listening.

I see God in His faithfulness to care for us in ongoing transitions.

I saw God in our confessions of fear.

I saw God in her hospitality and welcome.

I saw God in my tears.

I saw God in her hope.

2. When I laughed out loud

Throughout the day, my husband will send me pictures of funny things he sees while he's working. And this one took the cake for October. I couldn't help but think that this picture sums up how we're all usually feeling. Is any part of life normal anymore? Can't I just go to the bathroom? No? There is so much freedom in confessing that we barely have control over anything. So, thanks be to God for laughter and tipping that outhouse of our emotions right-side up again.

3. A word I'm holding onto as we move into November

Hope gets thrown around a lot these days, maybe it's because we need it so much. 

This photo carries a lot of weight and depth. 

The words of the wise uphold the heavy.

Jesus is with the oppressed. Jesus has heard the prayers and cries for justice painted upon blocks and blocks of downtown Portland. 

My hope is in a God who will bring every deed into judgment, including every hidden thing, whether it is good or evil. Ecc. 12:14

May we find hope in a God who loved us first, before the beginning of the world. Before all the mess we've made and keep making. 

I heard a story the other day on one of my favorite podcasts, The Mockingcast. On it, one of the hosts was telling a story about Lutheran theologian James Nestingen and his call for Christians to learn how to listen for confession. Now more than ever, people just want to be heard and be acknowledged. It's seeping out on social media and hurting us. When people are willing, there is a way to find face-to-face connection.

There's a story of James Nestingen sitting next to a guy on a trans-continental flight. After finding out what James does for a living, the guy makes it very clear to him that he is not a Christian. Yet for the majority of the flight, he shares about his experience in Vietnam and how it's haunted him for most of his life. Near the end of the flight, James asks if there's anything else he wants to get off his chest. Are there any more sins you want to lay on the pile? 

And the guy says, "Wait, what? I haven't been confessing!"

"Well is there anything else you have to say?" James asks.

So the guy goes on for a little while longer and then replies, "You know I don't believe in God."

James stands up, while the flight attendant is telling him to sit down because the plane is landing. He lays his hands on the man and says, "In the name of Jesus Christ, I proclaim all of your sins completely forgiven and absolved." And the man starts weeping.

"Can you say that again?" the man asks.

"In the name of Jesus Christ, I proclaim all of your sins completely forgiven and absolved." James continued to tell him that when he gets home he's going to forget that this happened. So the man called James every two weeks to talk and confess and receive again and again the grace that will bring us all home. He called him for the rest of his life until he died. 

People are confessing all the time. May we have the ears and posture to listen. 

May we have the curiosity to wonder why they are telling me all this? 

May we have the hope to offer in confidence that the grace of Jesus has carried them this far, and grace will lead us home. 

Tyler Perry's eulogy for Whitney Houston is such a great example of this. 

As Emily P. Freeman reminds us,

It's good to look around for God in the common places

It's good to look back and remember the laughter

It's good to carry hope as you go

Let's move forward with these intentions. 

Welcome to November.