Sunday, November 6, 2011

a bosom friend.

Tonight we had the distinct pleasure of having dinner with my lovely friend Liesl and her mother Susan who was in from out of town. 

Liesl is one of my oldest and dearest friends (since the summer before 7th grade, when I first saw her in her Chuck Taylors, and Bogie's Diner Jersey), and she was one of the reasons (other than God of course. . .DUH) that moving back to Bloomington even seemed slightly tangible to me. 

There is such enormous beauty in friendship. In tried and true friendship. It's the stuff that Jane Austen writes of, and what Lucy Maud Montgomery describes as having  a "bosom friend". 

You might as well just see a picture of Liesl when you look for the definition of the term, because she is mine. 

Look up "Bosom Friend" in the dictionary,
and this is what you'll see!


She has been with me through so much. And has become a great friend to Nate and a wonderful Auntie to Eleonore. 

Sometimes it is a bit overwhelming to see all the beauty she puts into the world, to see how big her heart is, and how free her spirit.

Overwhelming, and at the same time utterly inspiring. 

During Liesl's time in Belgium working for Young Life I had the AMAZING opportunity to travel there to assist her with moving back. We attempted to chronicle the adventure with this blog. I think we could easily get paid for traveling together and writing about it. Or maybe I just think we are funny and no one else does. . .nope, we're pretty funny.
Liesl and I enjoying a good "brew" on our German Day Trip!

Life has lots of ups and downs, but there is so much joy to be had in friendship and fellowship. 

It is truly one of God's gifts to us.

I hope you all have a Liesl in your life. I can't imagine how empty mine would be without her. 

peace to you,
meredith

Saturday, November 5, 2011

Back to Do. . .


I haven't had a lot of time today to muse or ruminate on anything in particular. But as I was singing Do Re Mi with Eleonore today in the car, I was remembering this video.

Nate and I at the beginning
 of our time at Streams of Hope
In itself it is an amazing thing to behold. I first saw it in 2009. We were in the process of closing a church while Nate was in seminary. It was an amazingly beautiful, painful, and growth inducing experience which I am sure I will write more about in the future.

The Sunday the church closed I stood to give some of my thoughts. I wanted the congregation to know that we had to decide if our journey as Christians stopped there, or if we were going to go out into the world and be the church, join new existing bodies of believers and evolve as Christians to share the joy & hope we have in the Risen Christ.

This video had spoken immensely to my heart and soul during that period.
God used something as simple as a song from The Sound of Music and a bunch of people dancing to speak to me, that joy still existed & that hope was still alive, even in the midst of mourning.


And, that ultimately, it starts with one person, making a decision. 

So I shared this video on that Sunday with the congregation, and I share it with you now, because it still holds so much truth and beauty.


peace to you,
meredith



Friday, November 4, 2011

What on earth am I(we) doing here?-Part 2

Soon after moving to Bloomington, we were confirmed in the Anglican Mission. It was a wonderful day, and it happened immediately prior to our friend Fr. Greg Lynn's ordination to the priesthood.

We have a wonderful long-distance community in Peoria's AMiA plant, Epiphany. Chris and Elisa Marchand, dear friends from the Chicago area are co-planting a missional community there with Greg and his wife Alicia.

What a wonderful gift to have kindred spirits embarking upon the same journey so close!

Chris, Elisa, Father Greg, Alicia, Nate & Me
at our confirmation/Greg's ordination!


Nate and I with a lot of prayer have wanted to take a VERY slow approach to this whole church planting-thing. We want to be able to give the community what they need and what can bring them closer to Christ, not impose our idea of what the church plant will look like on a community that we have been detached from for five years. This is a problem I think the Christian church gets stuck in a lot. Telling a community what they need before hearing what that community has to say/where they are.

(Before I get bombarded by Christians telling me the community needs Christ, let's have that just be a given. We all do, or Nate and I wouldn't be giving our life to this calling).

So right now what this looks like is a foundational group of people meeting twice a month, (soon to move to every week) at our apartment, discussing the word, our relationships with Christ, uplifting each other, and brainstorming on how we can bring Christ to this community and be Christ to this community. Very soon we will be embarking upon community outreach and eventually we will start meeting at a space, (as we are growing out of our dining room quite quickly. Intimacy is great within a missional community, but I don't want anybody to be able to tell that I wasn't able to shower that day, as being a Mommy doesn't always warrant a shower! :o) ) and having a full service as well as a weekly community group/bible study.

Exciting, scary, and an impossible environment to not be completely dependent upon Christ.

One thing we are praying for is that God would put on someone's heart to come alongside us in ministry here in Bloomington-Normal, in a co-leadership role. It is exciting to be patiently waiting for that, not knowing who that person will be or what specific gifts they will offer. But as God has proven so clearly over and over again, He will be faithful.

This church thing if you have never been a part of it (or if you have), is intended to be this beautiful, messy group of people, growing together, leaning on each other and loving each other so much that they can't let each other stay where they are at, they must propel each other further on in betterment, in hope and beauty and love, to become what we were created to be.

In propelling each other it should catch onto someone else, and someone else, and someone else.

And then our world theoretically shouldn't look the way it does.

But there is something in me that won't allow me to stop looking at what this world can be if we allow the Hope of the Risen Christ to permeate itself through us and to others.

I think the Church (which I claim to be a part of, I still believe in the Christian Church despite it's faults and it's NUMEROUS injustices, I apologize for these, and for the part I may play in them, but I still identify myself with it) forgets about this leaning, and dependence on one another, that we were created to be in community, to need one another, to change the world together.

Scoff if you must, but I adore So You Think You Can Dance (this is not as much of a change of subject as you might think, stick with me). This dance to Coldplay's Fix You really hits home for me, especially where I am at in my Faith journey right now.

*I am not about to get into what the words to that song mean, I have my thoughts, but that isn't really what this is about.

I think this is how we are supposed to look in the church relationally.

We move in sync at certain times, and at others we show our individual gifts for the community.

And sometimes we are utterly unable to move, unless we are lifted by one another.

I am quite fond of the 45 second mark where the "jumping" begins.

Sometimes it feels like in the church or in our relationship with Christ that we are doing such futile things in a season of waiting, that we might as well just be jumping up and down.

But that jumping up and down is leading to something amazing, and may we all jump with such vigor and intensity. . .

watch and see what I mean.

peace to you,
meredith

Thursday, November 3, 2011

What on earth am I (we) doing here?-Part 1




I thought it might be a good idea to share with everyone what we are doing "Back in Bloomington".

In simple terms, we are "planting a church".

There are different ways I like to describe it.

I prefer "starting a Missional Community".

But I do like the imagery of planting. Of nurturing something, of sustaining something, of having responsibility for it. But normally you don't see the planter burrow down into the soil with the seed, and get their fingernails dirty, almost drown when there is too much water, and feel the seed break from its casing to take root, becoming entangled in them, becoming one.

So perhaps we should go with "Planting a Missional Community".

We knew from the beginning of our relationship that there would come a time in our lives when God would call us to be a part of a new church start/plant/missional community. We were just waiting for the when and where.

It finally became clear to us this Spring that we were to plant a church with the Anglican Mission in America (AMiA). Nate had done an internship at an AMiA church his last semester of sminary, and that is where our connection was first fostered.

Through a series of events God made it clear that we were to plant a church in Bloomington, Illinois.

This was not what I or Nate had expected.

In fact it was on my list of "I will never's".

When you realize that your three main "I will never's" were:

1.) Never marry a pastor (Being a pastor's daughter and grandaughter, I wasn't interested in "the family business".

2.) Never marry anyone shorter than me ( I am 6 feet tall)

We know how those two turned out, as I have been married to a 5'8 (he says 5'9) pastor for 6 years on the 19th of this month!

3.) Never move back to Bloomington-Normal

I wasn't doing to well with my "I will never's", but I was still being stubborn enough to claim that last one.

Have I learned to "never say never"?
In some capacity. . .not completely though :o).

So we packed up, and moved from a three bedroom house to a one bedroom apartment,

and we were officially "Back in Bloomington".

And what happened next?

Find out tomorrow!

peace to you,
meredith

P.S.
Our amazing photographer Eliza Morris of Eliza & Liz Photography took some new pictures of Eleonore and some family pics for some church planting stuff and we got a few back today!
Here is a peak at one of the pics!

Wednesday, November 2, 2011

Back in Bloomington #7-Hopping Halloween History!



In my quest to do a post a day, I have to apologize, that this one isn't especially wordy or introspective, but hopefully enjoyable nonetheless!

Halloween is one of my favorite Holidays. It's dramatic, it's fun, it can be educational, mostly it's fun.

Nate and I first committed to Halloween as a couple his first year of Seminary at Trinity. We had met an amazing hip and funny couple, The Blairs, and somehow we all decided to get dressed up and go out to dinner. It was History in the making. Since that first year we haven't missed one Halloween until last year when it was our first year apart from the Blairs (they live in the Portland area now, they are THAT cool and hip). It seemed like an appropriate mourning period. But with Eleonore being here we figured it was time to "get back in the saddle".

The following pictures show our History with the Blairs as well as our first Halloween with Eleonore!
Enjoy, I know we did!
Halloween 2006-Sonny & Cher
Halloween 2006-Lucy & Ricky with Sonny & Cher

Halloween 2007-The Flinstones!
Halloween 2007-Barney & Betty


Halloween 2008-Linus, Luci, Charlie Brown & Sally
Halloween 2009-The Wizard of Oz


Halloween 2010-In Mourning 




















Halloween 2011-Olive Oyl



Our Sweet Pea!




Popeye, Olive Oyl & Sweet Pea!



The beginning of a beautiful tradition with the Kocourek family!

And many more to come!

peace to you,
meredith




Sunday, October 30, 2011

Back in Bloomington #6-Hair


I am committing to a post a day during the month of November as a practice in discipline. As it is 12:05 AM on November 1st, might as well get to it!

During this journey we are attempting to save money every way possible so that I can continue to be the full time caregiver for our daughter Eleonore.

I thought I would take one for the team in August, and with the seriousness and determination of Rosie the Riveter attempted to dye my own hair for the first time in close to five years, blonde streak and all.

Sometimes saving money doesn't help the family "team" because there is something to the old adage "If Momma ain't happy, ain't nobody happy".

I was frustrated, and knew it was going to take a lot of money to fix my mistake. It got me thinking. . .

hair.

Such a vast aray of things span from this topic. I feel like I could write a book under the headline.

But what to write about? Haircut disasters?You have already read about the adventure that was my eyebrow journey in Jr. High. What about the bikini wax that I got a few days before my wedding resulting in me using the word Ooftah for the first time. . .well, the bikini wax can wait for another time.

In Jr. High I am quite confident I was a glutton for punishment/self humiliation.
Right before a sleepover, I decided to "trim" my own hair. It was about shoulder length at the time. And maybe I didn't "trim" it. Maybe I thought it was a good idea to add layers as well. Thirteen year old adding layers to her hair with blunt kitchen scissors=brilliant.

I remember it not looking that bad in my opinion, but when my dear friend Laura called to see when I would get to our friend Lauren's house, I shared the news that I had trimmed my own hair. With great exasperation she exclaimed that we would need to fix it as soon as I got there. When I did get there my friends seemed to be waiting with baited breath. . .

Shannon grabbed the scissors.

They thought it made the most sense to begin at the highest layer I had cut.

 To me this was near my chin.

To Shannon, Lauren and Laura, it was near my eyes.

They made me turn away from the mirror and made the first fell swoop.

A simultaneous squeal was let out  and as I tried to turn around, I was quickly shoved into the bathtub so they could finish their deed (you might be asking how/why I didn't fight back? Lauren and Shannon would go on to be part of the State Championship Softball Team for Normal Community High School, they were strong. I did the plays and was on the basketball team because the school hoped there might be an ounce of potential in this 5'11 beanpole. There wasn't.).

When they finally let me rise out of the tub, it was a sight to behold.

I said we needed to call my parents immediately (I have always struggled with guilt, some people think Catholic/Jewish guilt is the worst. It's not, United Methodist guilt is the one that bites you in the "tookis").

Shannon, brave one that she was, called my parents.

I quote:

"We gave Meredith a haircut, it looks amazing. She looks just like Cameron Diaz."

My Best Friend's Wedding was a Jr. High Sleepover staple

I couldn't agree more.
Cameron Diaz with poop brown hair that she let someone inebriated fashion into an uneven boy butt-cut.

Just like Cameron Diaz.

My parents didn't let me get it fixed for a couple of weeks. . .
I had to wonder if that was how Cameron Diaz got punished for bad behavior.

My hair eventually grew back, and in between now and then I have had a few impulse bang cuttings, but never anything that would harken back to the dramatic drastic nature of the "Cameron Diaz" cut.

The dye job was my first disaster in quite a while.

I've questioned God a lot in this journey.
A whole lot.
About a lot of things.
Our conversations are probably entertaining on the outside looking in.
And for the life of me, I didn't understand, while on top of all the other "learning experiences" we are going through, the cherry on top would be my hair.

Eleonore in her pilot cap that day.
Mindy gave her a yogurt bite
"tear drop". See why I need this woman in
my everyday life?
I was moaning and groaning about this to my dear friend Mindy who was "Back in Bloomington" from Portland visiting her family and friends. Sidenote-I am praying for God's guidance and provision in Mindy's life, while praying for this I also understand that God wishes to grant us the desires of our hearts, my desire is that Mindy moves back to Bloomington and works in community and ministry with us. If you would like to pray that too, it would be much appreciated. No really, pray that. I want her here! While we sat at The Coffee Hound, an incredibly awesome looking young woman in a blue hawaiian print caftan walked by pushing a stroller (check out her blog, you would be intimidated too). She saw Eleonore through the window in one of her "signature" pilot caps, and exclaimed through the window that she would have to come in. She introduced herself, her husband and her adorable 10 month old son Wolfgang. I couldn't help but stare at her hair. It was amazing. Half black and half bleach blonde. I had to ask where she got her hair done, and she said "Oh, I do it, I do hair". She gave me her number and we agreed to do a play date. I was so intimidated by her, I didn't know what to do. Eventually I mustered up the courage to text her (lots of gumption in texting, right?), and we did set up a play date.

There is nothing more to say other than God is faithful in ways we can never imagine. Not only do I have someone to do my hair and EYEBROWS (and do them INCREDIBLY well), I have an AMAZING new friend, as does Eleonore, as does Nate in Deb's husband Greg.

A bunch of "wild and crazy guys" out and about Halloween Night!
God continues to show me that Nate and I cannot and will not do this alone.
That not only is He in every little detail, but community will be in every little detail.
And it might not look how we expect it to.
It might look even more amazing than we can imagine.
The church is a living breathing organism if we allow it to be, of sharing gifts and talents to lift each other, and sustain one another.

Friendship and laughter are amazing gifts Deb has given me, and her talent with hair is just "the cherry on top."

I am convinced more than ever that God is in the details.

Seriously, can you not when you see how fabulous my hair looks?

peace to you,
meredith

Wolfgang and Eleonore enjoying their community! 


Wednesday, October 12, 2011

Back in Bloomington #5-Albert

I wrote this over a month ago and wasn't able to finish till now. 


There has been a lot weighing on my mind lately. I think any parent is in a constant state of looking at the world around them with a newfound lens of "What does this mean for my child?".

It can be overwhelming if you take that too far. It can consume you.

But there is a fine line and a grey area where for brief moments you can see with the hopefulness and the heartache of a child. Which I have come to see as life in its purest form.

My husband as his "Day Job", works as a residential counselor at a Boys Home for addiction and behavior rehabilitation. His "Night Job" is church planting, which is why we moved back to Bloomington.

This past week one of the boys from the home were on an extended home visit. He was also two weeks from completing the program/graduating High School. A young man who knew what he wanted to do with his life, who all the other boys looked up to.

While at home, his mother caught him drinking, told him she was taking him back to the Home, where inevitably the leaders would be told, and he would have to start the program over again. In his compliant nature, he packed up his things, went to the car, then told his mother if he was going to be there for a longer time, he would like to have his slippers. He ran upstairs to his room, took out a shotgun, and killed himself.

As a parent the questions seem endless. For a while I thought my crying would be endless.

That boy was someone's Eleonore.
That little boy. . .

And then my view broadens, and my questions as a Christian become endless.

This decision was made in a split second.

In that split second, where was the Hope that is central to the Christian Faith?

And then I begin to judge.

I begin to judge the church, I begin to judge those who call themselves Christians. I begin to judge myself.

How often am I guilty of not exasperating myself in my need to share the Hope that is Christ Risen?

It is of course much, much more complicated than judging and asking those questions.




I was on pinterest the same week. Oh man, I love this website! So fun and inspirational.

One of my "boards" is a place to put all of the lovely quotes that are fashioned into art on said site. The one that hit home in light of this boy's death was this:


Practical and straightforward in it's nature, this Albert Einstein quote struck through to the base of the problem.

If you tell someone that they aren't good enough, will never be good enough for the love of Christ, and you judge them by this, and don't share what is CENTRAL to the message of Christ, they will never be able to experience the Hope and Love of Christ. If you don't name them for what they are. This idea of naming comes from my favorite author Madeleine L'Engle, and it consistently and persistently rings true with my theology and world outlook.

I see it as an epidemic in our society. We are not naming the children, who are becoming unnamed adults, and we ourselves are not claiming our names.

I have a friend who recently started a sports team. She shared with me about her confusion of community within this sports team.

"I feel more a sense of community on my team, than I have in a church in a long time."

And I can't do anything but nod my head in agreement and apologize for the Christian Church and what it has become (which is a full time job when it comes down to it).

If we Christians cannot hold one another up in the knowledge and hope of the risen Christ, then how DARE we look upon the world in judgement.

I struggle with this on a daily basis. The house that sits across from ours is not the "loveliest". A seven unit victorian mansion that has seen better days, and holds so much sorrow and heartache.

I often don't recognize the strung out that enter and exit this place. Some of the men who are tenants work on the house to pay their rent. I noticed that they had been staring at me quite a bit (I do say "Hi" when I see them and make eye contact, as they are neighbors) but this was getting uncomfortable (seeing them in the reflection of the window staring etc.) I feel completely safe, more than anything I don't want other women being treated this way.

Nate went over to talk to them about it.

The landlord proceeds to say:

 "She's a pretty woman in a poor neighborhood, she needs to get used to it."

No words are fit to respond to this.
I become enraged.

It's a perfect example of a cyclical cycle that if we aren't careful we can all find ourselves trapped in.

Because no one named the Landlord, no one cared and nurtured him and taught him the value of humanity, he cannot name anyone. In fact he allows people to live under his roof and continue in processes that not only don't "name" but actually "un-name" them, consistently de-humanizing themselves. And in the process he is de-humanizing himself. Thus a woman doesn't have humanity, she is thought of as an object to look at, un-naming her (me), and when I am "un-named" if I'm not careful, it takes away my ability to name, and so I begin to only see those men with eyes of disgust and hatred, rather than seeing them for what they are, un-named, un-nurtured, children of God (there is nothing wrong with being wise and safe, but it is still important to see them as human).

When I do this, and enter into this cycle, am I any better than the influence and judgment that brought this young boy to a place of ultimate hopelessness and desperation, where he thought his choices were gone?

No, I'm not.

Where does it stop/start?

With YOU and with ME.

Making a decision, to exasperate ourselves in sharing the Hope of the risen Christ, and letting that define how we care for EVERYONE we encounter.

This decision becomes even more vital when I see my child, and I see that my influence will directly decide how she values humanity and values creation. It's a scary and yet ultimately hopeful privilege.

 Einstein hits the American Christian Church on the head once again with this one:

If people are good only because they fear punishment, and hope for reward, then we are a sorry lot indeed. 
-Albert Einstein


Let us make a decision to start filling the beautiful creation of God with the Hope we have been given, let us not be "a sorry lot".


It might be crazy what we see.

peace to you,
meredtih