Never Bought a Father's Day Card

It occurred to me yesterday, as a celebrated Father's Day with my husband that I had never in my life purchased a Father's Day card. 

You may think I'm going to say that I always made a sweet, handmade card.  But no.  I wish that were the case.

My parents were divorced when I was 18 months old and my father lived very far away from us.  He visited a couple of times a year, at first, then rarely as I got older, and then years would go by and I wouldn't hear from him. 

My father suffered from alcoholism.  That's a very polite way of saying that he was a drunk.  He wasn't an elegant but sometimes frustrating man with a drinking problem.  He never held a job for longer than a month.  He called my elementary school drunk insisting they make me come to the phone.  He threatened to kill himself if I didn't persuade my mother to return to him (and I was only six at the time).  He was a mess.  An incredibly handsome, brilliant, talented, tortured mess. 

It just wasn't a greeting card sort of relationship.

When I was in college, my father's girlfriends, who were numerous, were younger than I was.  He would later father a child, now 30, with a woman who was a drug addict and skipped town leaving him with a baby, raised by his family.  She is now an addicted mess too.

But before you think I hated my father, let me set the record straight.  I adored him.  I loved him beyond reason.  I tried everything I knew to get him in recovery.  And when he died, in his early 50s, I attended his funeral and grieved the father I never had, but who taught me everything I needed to know about the dangers of addiction, about loneliness, about the courage needed to fight demons, and most of all, about forgiveness.  I learned how to work hard and stay away from drugs and alcohol.  I learned to build and sustain healthy relationships.  I learned about boundaries.  And I learned a lot about grace.

His family loved and cared for him for the duration.  Enabling?  Probably.  I don't recommend it by the way.  But they tried, the best they could, and he likely lived a lot longer because of them.

A few weeks ago, my aunt called to say that she wanted to send me my parent's wedding pictures and a few heirlooms from Ireland that my great-great-grandfather brought over when he married my native american great-great-grandmother.  I was delighted, not just about the pictures and the things, but delighted that for the first time in my life, I was able to thank her for taking care of my dad, for the grace she had shown in dealing with his disease.  She cried.  I smiled.

So even though we didn't have a Hallmark relationship, my father taught me much.  He was well loved, by me and by many.  Now, I see those who struggle and suffer in a different way.

Was my father's illness God's plan?  Of course not!  Did God help me see through a different, more compassionate lens because of my experience with his illness?  Absolutely. 

So for those of you who may have had difficult relationships with your father, I encourage you to allow God to heal that by seeing the grace in it.  I didn't get what I wanted, but I got something very valuable. 

Happy Father's Day Daddy. 

Teresa

So Who am I?

Do you ever struggle with self-doubt?  I believe that even the most confident person has moments of self-doubt (unless they are either delusional or totally self actuated)!

I don't consider myself a risk taker, but I am an opportunity taker.  If I am given an opening, I will "go for it" just about every time.  And why not?  In 100 years, will anyone even know if I risked and failed, or missed the mark?  Am I really all that?

I think we both inflate our own importance and minimize our own potential.  We are too shy or embarrassed or lack the confidence to think we can and should be happy and successful and accomplished, and that puts more importance on our individual selves than is probably healthy.  And yet, we also forget that we are part of an organism, of a greater creation, that needs each individual entity functioning at optimal capacity in order to be healthy.  So, we are both a small cog and part of a great machinery.

As I anticipate the publication of a book in July, and another in August or September, write my doctoral dissertation, begin another book for publication in August 2013, step into certified professional coaching, continue growing a unique and wonderful community of faith, see my changing role as a parent of two adults rather than two children, and dream of all my future may hold, I am not immune to that nagging self-doubt, that fear of failure or ridicule.  After all, who am I? 

Well, isn't that just the bottom line, the heart of the matter?  Who am I?

I am, like all of you, created in the image of God, filled with God's own spirit, bold and timid, hopeful and conflicted, eager and wary.  But in those moments when I see the door open, and I catch a glimpse of who I really am and what can be if I am only willing to seize the ring, I am filled with gratitude at the opportunities that the universe provides, and ready to jump, head long and with a shout of joy, into life.  And I hope you will too.

Ready?  Set.  Go!

Teresa

www.stresslesspreaching.com

The Rule of 56

Does your life have balance?  Most of us are way out of whack when it comes to creating time for rest, work, and recreation.  A good friend of mine pointed out to me some time ago the Rule of 56.

Look at your entire week and try to map out where you spend your time then check for balance.  For example, there are  168 hours in a week.  My advice is that you should sleep 1/3 of the time (56 hours), work 1/3 of the time (56 hours), and spend the other 1/3 (56 hours) in recreation, hobbies, and other non-work related pursuits.  Most of us spend far more than 56 hours a week working, at the expense of either sleep or family/friends/pets/fun/relaxation/hobbies/SABBATH/etc. 

Where do you need to create balance?

I cover this and more in my book, Stressless Preaching, which will be released in July!

The Journey

This has been quite a couple of weeks.  Last week, I was reeling with disappointment and sadness after watching the General Conference of the United Methodist Church.  My heart ached.  I was angry.  I felt conflicted.  And all of those emotions are still there, but I found solace and strength in seeing the huge numbers of clergy and laity who have responded in similar outrage and sadness.  My sadness has slowly started to turn to hopefulness, hope founded in a renewed vision for the church, hope founded in an unwillingness to stay silent any longer.

Then came this week.  I cannot even tell you how many wonderful things have happened this week.  It's amazing the difference a week can make.  This week, things just started happening.  But as I examine each thing, I realize these are not sudden graces.  I've been working on and toward all of these things for weeks, months, sometimes years.

Sometimes I am so short-sighted.  My emotions hinge on what is happening right here, right now, rather than seeing the long picture.  I am focused on the path I am on, one step at a time, and when that path is rocky or steep or my feet hurt or I'm out of breath and energy, like any human, I get discouraged.  Some might call that mindfulness, or living in the present, but that's not true.  Mindfulness is being in the moment, then letting it go in order to experience the next moment.  I was bogged down in the previous moment.

My plan is to try to focus more on the big picture, and to see how the small things, the habits and practices of each day, are either furthering me on the journey or wasting my energy.  What difference does one set back make if I am making steady progress in the right direction?  What difference does one General Conference make when so many are throwing off the constraints of church politics and flinging open the doors of our churches in love?

This week, I wish for myself and for all of you, that we look past the immediate to see the graces afforded us every day.  To feel the pain of the pebble in our shoe, and to understand that it's okay to stop for a moment, remove it, and then keep walking.

Hoping to see you on the hike.

Teresa

A Prayer for Lent

I wrote this for our service a few weeks ago, and several of you have asked for a copy.  I hope it brings you peace.

God, in the stillness of this moment, I allow myself to feel your healing presence. 
I allow myself to feel your holy energy surrounding me like a familiar blanket, soft, warm, and safe. 
In this moment, I release my fear, my worry, my anger, and any negative emotion I may be feeling.
Enfolded in your power, I relax into your goodness, your light, and I rest here for as long as I need.
I open my heart to your renewing love.
I open my heart to forgiveness.
I open my heart to receive love from others.
And in this moment, I see myself as you see me...a beautiful and  perfect child of the Universe.
My life is your gift to me.  The way I choose to live it is my gift to you. 
As I make this journey through Lent, show me a clear path to you.
In the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit. Amen.

The Reverend Teresa Angle-Young (Feb. 2012)

Finding Hope

Lent is always a very interesting time for me, a time to assess and reassess, to look deeply into my heart and soul and ask the hard questions, the probing questions, about my life, about my witness, and about my spirit. 

When Jesus entered the desert for 40 days, he struggled.  He wrestled with his demons.  He was tempted by his frailties.  He had to decide if he would take what the world offered, or live into a new reality, a new hope.  He chose hope.  And he chose it knowing that it might just get him killed, but he took that risk in order to show us a better way, a higher path, and in doing so, he revealed the heart of God.

Sometimes decisions are difficult, sometimes life is challenging and unfair, and we all have to struggle with our own humanity, face our own temptations and demons, and make the decision to live bravely in the face of those things, or to succumb to the easy path.

As we each take that inventory of our lives, as we try to live into the example of Jesus, my prayer for myself and for each of you is that we look past the temptation, past the fear, and past the loneliness in our lives, to find hope, that we face challenges with courage and resolve, and most of all, that like Jesus, we remember who we are, beloved children of God, made in God's image, and carrying the light of God's spirit inside of us. 

May your light shine in the wilderness.

Blessings for a holy Lent,
Teresa

Entering the Wilderness

When we travel, we all want things to go smoothly, to have fun, and to stay safe.  But not all journeys are like that.  Such is the journey through Lent, which we embark upon today.

Today is Ash Wednesday, a day when we are reminded that life is fleeting, and often too short, and that we waste a lot of it.  It is a day when we mark the beginning of a journey, one that takes us inside ourselves, where we take that fearless moral inventory, face our demons, are confronted with temptation, and ultimately, where we face our greatest questions about faith and God. 

It is not an easy journey.  It is dangerous, and scary, to stare into the reality of our mortality, at the reality of who we really are and how we are spending the life we have been given, and then to look into the face of God and see how we measure up to being the person that God created us to be, in God's own image, with God's own spirit residing in us. 

I cannot pray for any of us to have an easy journey.  Rather, I pray for us to have a brave one, to be fearless and honest and willing. 

Wishing you a holy Lent,

Teresa