The Chaplain's Hands

Photo from my trip to Kenya in 2007

A while back I had knee surgery and was fortunate to have my fellow chaplains come pray for me before my surgery. Even though I'm a chaplain myself I was anxious about the procedure and was waiting alone. I really appreciated our Senior chaplain sitting and holding my hands as he prayed. It was a good reminder that I wasn't alone and that everything really was going to be okay. It's a strange feeling to be on the other side of the hospital bed, one that I hope I don't experience again any time soon. He is someone who has a been an amazing mentor to me over the past couple of months, and I have learned so much from him. This poem came from that experience. Still working on it, it doesn't feel quite right yet. I'd appreciate your honest critiques and thoughts. Hoping to give it to him as a retirement present here pretty soon. I make no claims to be a poet, but I find writing these things out helps get them out of my head :)

Blessings during this advent season.

The Chaplain’s Hands

The chaplain’s hands are big

They seem to surround my own

Assuring me that all will be well

I am not alone.

The chaplain’s hands are rough

From years of carpentry

The remind me of Jesus

Watching his dad carve silently

The chaplain’s hands are gentle

There’s softness in their touch

Which brings compassion and hope

Despite the callousness and scars

The chaplain’s hands are old

Marked with the tell-tale signs of age

I wonder how many others they’ve held

As the chaplain prayed

The chaplain’s hands are open

They do not judge

Instead they bring acceptance

And the promise of God’s love

The chaplain’s hands are helpful

They bring peace in time of doubt

A cup of water for the thirsty

And a blanket for the cold

The chaplain’s hands are storied

They’ve held newborn babes

And comforted a family in pain

As life’s last breath fades

 The chaplain’s hands are here

They seem to surround my own

Assuring me that all will be well

I am not alone.

Ministering to Motherless-Daughters and Daughterless-Mothers on Mother’s Day

Me, my Mom, Grandmom & Great-Grandmom.
(4 generations of oldest daughters)

         For many, Mother’s Day is a joyous occasion filled with breakfast-in-bed using every dish in the kitchen, homemade gifts of handprints or pasta and a special day of pampering. But for others this joy is mixed with the emptiness of loss. Many of our congregants have lost their mothers, don’t have a good relationship with their families, have lost children, or never had children of their own. Since Mother’s Day observances have grown to be norm within our churches, we need to take special note that this day is one of mixed feelings for much of our congregation. I lost my mother to cancer when I was eight years old so this is a topic near and dear to my heart. Over the years I have seen Mother's Day services done very well, and some that just contributed to the feelings of loss. Based on my limited experience,  I have come up with a couple things that I believe can help ministers (and even lay persons) to be more intentional about the way we celebrate Mother’s Day (and Father’s Day) in our church services. Feel free to comment with suggestions,  experiences, ideas or rebukes. I know this is just one person's biased perspective.

1. Realize that not everyone is celebrating. This may sound like a no-brainer, but it is easy to forget that not everyone is on the same page.
2. Try to avoid setting up motherhood as the “ideal.” Most congregations have at least one or two women that never had kids, whether by choice or not. Doing so can contribute to these women feeling alienated, and as if they are not fulfilling some sort of societal or biblical role. 
3. Avoid overly sentimental music. One year at the church I attended the offertory music was a song in which the mother died of cancer in the fourth stanza. This caught everyone off guard and stirred up some very painful memories for a lot of folks. It’s better to stick with joyful and light songs. If you must do a sentimental song, warn the congregation first.
4. Avoid giving gifts, especially during the children’s sermon. For kids who have no one to give the gift to this can be a really awkward moment. For example, my church used to have all the kids in the congregation come up and get a rose to give to their mom. My sisters and I ended up having to give ours to our Dad every year. Eventually, we just stopped going to church that Sunday. If you must give gifts, doing so by placing baskets at the exits of the worship space is perhaps a better option. This still leaves people out, but is less obvious and people can more easily choose if they want to participate.
5. Be inclusive when recognizing the mothers. I’m against making the mothers stand for special recognition, but if you must do it, be mindful of the language you use. Acknowledge that some may have mother figures other than their biological mothers. Also, it’s good to say something in memory of mothers who have passed on. One of my former pastors, Dr. Lee McGlone, ends Mother’s Day recognitions by asking all who have mothers stand up. This gets the whole congregation standing and (usually) helps relieve some of the tension by getting a laugh.
6.   Create opportunities for those who have lost their mothers or children, or who cannot be with their mothers. One year I was throwing a pity party for myself about the upcoming Mother’s Day service, and my college church “adopted Dad” told me to suck it up, realize I wasn’t the only one hurting and minister to someone else who was as well. I wouldn’t recommend telling your congregants that, but Mother’s Day does allow for some unique ministry possibilities.
7.  Be especially aware of those who might be hurting. As a minister (or a lay person) this can be a good opportunity to minister. Pay special attention to those who have lost mothers or children in the past year. Try to send them a note or give them a phone call to encourage them through this difficult time.
8. Watch your sermon topic! I’ve heard, or heard about, many sermons that have been preached solely on motherhood. While this is a valuable topic, it’s not applicable to many of your congregants. You also have to be careful to avoid creating a picturesque version of a family that will be impossible for many of your congregants to live up to. It’s good to preach on families, or women in the Bible, but be intentional about what you say and how you say it. (See #2!)
9. Avoid Mother’s Day themed services. You can still acknowledge and celebrate Mother’s Day without it becoming the whole focal point of the message. This will help deal with many of the other points I’ve made about being inclusive and intentional.
10. Celebrate! I know much of what I have said seems negative, but you can reframe Mother’s Day as a time of celebration in Christ. Discussions of God as our creator are typically confined to Father’s Day, but there’s no reason why we can’t do so on Mother’s Day as well. Just as our mothers gave us life, so the creator of life itself is God.

My church college ministry "adopted mom," Jeanie.

I don’t hate Mother’s Day. In fact, I use it as a time of remembrance and rejoicing of the time I had with my mother. It has also become a celebration of all the mother figures I have had in my life. Although I only had my mom for 8 years, God has provided many women that have been godly role models and have ministered to me through the years. Perhaps the most influential of these being my college church ministry "adopted Mom." That being said, I feel we need to be more deliberate about how we celebrate Mother’s Day in our churches. This Mother’s Day and Father’s Day, try to be inclusive and intentional in word and action in order to reach out to all in your congregations. 

Stinky Feet

“Make sure you clean your feet before you come, we don’t want to be washing any nasty feet!” The pastor half-joked with his congregation the Sunday before their Maundy Thursday Foot-Washing Service. It’s true though if you think about it, we all want to avoid that one person with notoriously bad smelling feet. We wait in our seats to make sure we are not even near them in line. Sometimes we avoid the service all together because we fear what others might think of our own cracked toe nail polish, or unwashed feet. But the picture we are given in John stands in stark contrast to our own vulnerabilities.  The feet Jesus washed would not have so pretty. They would be covered in dirt mingled with the sweat from the day’s journey. The open sandals they wore would provide little relief from the stench. Yet, Jesus ignores all of this. Instead he responds in love, taking their filthy feet and washing them clean.  It’s a metaphor for Jesus’ entire life and ministry.  Ministering to the outsiders, the unclean. Even giving his life for us.


So often in churches today, we seem to feel we have to wash ourselves spiritually before we ever enter the door. We ask people to conform to our culture, our way of life, our dress and our speech. We ask them to put on a mask of purity to hide their inequities. We cover our scars and battered places with the newest makeups. We must be righteous to enter into the presence of God. Have we become the Pharisees, shutting out the very outsiders Jesus died to save? Have we forgotten that we are all filthy from our lives journeys and in need of forgiveness? Jesus does not call us to come before him whitewashed. Rather we are to come as we are. Covered in the dirt and sweat from a hard life’s journey. With all our doubt, fear and questioning. Showing our scars and battered limbs. We are to kneel before him and allow him to wash us clean.

This week I was blessed to attend the Maundy Thursday service at Calvary Baptist Church in Waco. To be perfectly honest I hoped it wouldn't be a foot-washing service. I wanted to go because I realize I hadn't participated in the Lord's Supper in a long time due to being gone a lot of Sundays from my church. I had an ache inside of me that needed to be filled. As the time for the foot-washing part of the service drew near I began to feel those insecurities well up inside me, but I made the choice to quell them and participate fully in what lay ahead. The small gathering of people sorted into two lines and each washed the feet of the person behind them. As my feet were washed by a dear friend of mine, and it became my turn to wash the feet of one of my closest Truett friends I began to realize the significance of what we were doing. We were serving each other as we were. No pretense involved. Accepting each other for the broken messes we were, and choosing to love each other anyway. To do so made taking the Lord's Supper meaningful in an entirely different light. I am just so thankful that Jesus and my fellow believers are able to accept me and my stinky feet.



“It was just before the Passover Festival. Jesus knew that the hour had come for him to leave this world and go to the Father. Having loved his own who were in the world, he loved them to the end. The evening meal was in progress, and the devil had already prompted Judas, the son of Simon Iscariot, to betray Jesus. Jesus knew that the Father had put all things under his power, and that he had come from God and was returning to God; so he got up from the meal, took off his outer clothing, and wrapped a towel around his waist.  After that, he poured water into a basin and began to wash his disciples’ feet, drying them with the towel that was wrapped around him. He came to Simon Peter, who said to him, “Lord, are you going to wash my feet?” Jesus replied, “You do not realize now what I am doing, but later you will understand.”  “No,” said Peter, “you shall never wash my feet.”   Jesus answered, “Unless I wash you, you have no part with me.”  “Then, Lord,” Simon Peter replied, “not just my feet but my hands and my head as well!” Jesus answered, “Those who have had a bath need only to wash their feet; their whole body is clean. And you are clean, though not every one of you.” For he knew who was going to betray him, and that was why he said not every one was clean.  When he had finished washing their feet, he put on his clothes and returned to his place. “Do you understand what I have done for you?” he asked them. “You call me ‘Teacher’ and ‘Lord,’ and rightly so, for that is what I am.  Now that I, your Lord and Teacher, have washed your feet, you also should wash one another’s feet.  I have set you an example that you should do as I have done for you.  Very truly I tell you, no servant is greater than his master, nor is a messenger greater than the one who sent him.  Now that you know these things, you will be blessed if you do them.” –John 13:1-17, NIV

Leaning on the Everlasting Arms

Truett Seminary at sunset

I was sitting outside in the ironically nicknamed "Inner Sanctum" courtyard at Truett this afternoon working on homework and trying to grab a few moments of quiet time before going home for the evening and quietly the chapel bell began to chime the hour. At first I paid little attention to this common occurrence but the I realized I was not hearing the normal chime. The bell tower was tolling the chorus from the old hymn " Leaning on the Everlasting Arms." This has been one of my favorite melodies for about as far back as I can remember. I recall sitting in the small rural church of my great-grandparents with the whole town (of 30 people in attendance). I would always joke with my great-grandad and "lean" on him whenever the chorus of the song came up. I felt safe in those times. I knew that I could lean on him to be there for me and that he would not let me fall. As I listened to the bell tolling today, I really began to ponder the words of the song, and listen to the message they proclaimed.

As the years have past there have been many people that I've leaned on. Mentors, teachers, fellow students and ministers have been a blessing to me and I could never repay the debt I owe them. Yet, they have all had one thing in common. At some point or another they have failed me. There came a point during which I could no longer lean upon them. At these times I felt alone, but I was not.Though all else failed God's presence remained.  I learned to lean on God and not in my own devices. It is all to easy to slip back into the old pattern and look first to a mentor or friend for advice, before seeking God's direction. Today was a welcome reminder to lean on God, and to seek him and his will before all else. I am safely nestled in the everlasting arms, and there I will remain.

"Leaning on the Everlasting Arms"

What a fellowship, what a joy divine,

Leaning on the everlasting arms;

What a blessedness, what a peace is mine,

Leaning on the everlasting arms.

Refrain

Leaning, leaning, safe and secure from all alarms;

Leaning, leaning, leaning on the everlasting arms.

O how sweet to walk in this pilgrim way,

Leaning on the everlasting arms;

O how bright the path grows from day to day,

Leaning on the everlasting arms.

Refrain

What have I to dread, what have I to fear,

Leaning on the everlasting arms;

I have blessed peace with my Lord so near,

Leaning on the everlasting arms.

Refrain