Thursday, January 25, 2007


What Would You Do With A Cross That Sucks?

This year I am devoting significant energy toward clutter removal in my household. My goal: remove/recycle 10 pieces of unneeded crap from the household per day (BTW, this is NOT a New Year's Resolution). As I remove kitch, junk, low priority knick knacks, etc., I am finding all kinds of crosses (I am thankful not to have the one pictured). Today I found a rainbow cross eraser that my daughter probably received at a fair at church. I have a hard time throwing crosses away, no matter how much they suck (maybe I COULD throw away a flag cross). Trivializing the cross seems to be a much grander offense than disposing of a cross.

My wife and I were in the midst of our seminary training when we were married, so many folks took it upon themselves to give us the wedding/marriage cross (with the two rings in the middle). We only have so much space in our house for wall hangings--if we hung up all of the crosses or even some of the crosses we have received we might end up like the congregation I am serving right now--with images of Jesus in the men's restroom watching all partakers of the urinals empty their bladders. Yes, in my congregation, Jesus watches you pee. I suppose I should be thinking about Jesus when I pee, but sometimes I have a one track mind--like on my aim.

Perhaps these surplus crosses will go to the goodwill, so that others can think about the cross while they urinate.


Friday, January 19, 2007

Surprised by a simple grace

An old friend surprised me over the Christmas sesason with a letter and photo of his family. I don't think we've been in contact for at least 12 years. I like to consider myself one who takes the step and gets in touch with long lost friends, or maintains communication with folks. To be surprised by grace is a gift to any day.

Grace has transformational power. Rememberance of the grace has slipped in and out of my mind since I received it a month ago--I was triggered to write back to my old friend when I heard a shared favorite song on the radio: "Peace of Mind" by Boston. For this household of two pastors, grace comes from hearing from friends. Grace also comes in the form of the first day of a weekend, a day to go at my own pace--let the cleaning and the errands go. Write a letter to an old friend, doing things with my girls with no particular goal. Space to be rather than driven by doing. I lost my will to write over the past few months. Part of that involved holiday hullabaloo, part of it involved the system shift of parenting two children, part of it involved my own dark place. Today I write. Tomorrow I shall write again.