Eternal God, on this day we lift up all mothers to you. Scripture has prepared us to recognize that by your grace, mothering takes many forms.
We lift up those . . .
… who have experienced joy and fulfillment in mothering
… who have known the pain of a child’s death
… who are facing motherhood again, or for the first time
… for whom childlessness represents a loss
Continue reading ‘Litany for Mothers’ Day’
RECOVERY
Children survive.
They seem to be built to survive almost anything.
The pain of loneliness, war, crime, rejection,
being ignored, being abused,
being smothered, being used,
predation, exposure,
abandonment, over-protection;
these are just some of the things kids endure.
Continue reading ‘Recovery – A Poem of Survival’
In August 2001, I began my seminary education as a “special” student. The special classification was because I had no undergraduate degree. I was allowed to take three courses for each of two semesters, after which the admissions committee would decide if an exception to the undergraduate degree requirement would be granted.
Two seminary professors I had met in different circumstances had originally told me of the exception. Each had been aware of my interaction with students who were experiencing difficulties – some while on an immersion trip in Mexico, and another while doing her internship at a church where I worked. In each case the exception was used as a trump card when I played my “I can’t go to seminary – I don’t have a degree” card. Continue reading ‘Critical Life Incidents – Entering Seminary’
Continued from LEARNING TO THRIVE. Or return to INDEX.
LEARNING TO SWIM – I was in the big pool now.
In the week prior to starting at seminary, I had moved into an apartment on campus – completely furnished and outfitted from the generosity of my Liberty Church supporters – and I had finished up a six-month, 10-hour per week consulting gig at Sterling Commerce, a division of the telecom giant, SBC. I had hated the thought of returning to the business world, but the opportunity had cropped up within hours of deciding to go back to school. Continue reading ‘Swimming Upstream – an Autobiography (Part 4)’
“I remember picking up my sharpest tool, a drawknife, and resolutely deciding I wasn’t going into that hole. I was ready to die.” Continued from: Learning to Live. Or go to INDEX.
LEARNING TO THRIVE
The rest of the memory seems more like the recollection of a hallucination, except with much more clarity. I remember, with no sense of time, being aware of all of the times I had hurt others, even in the smallest way. I was fully aware of all my sins, a concept with which I was totally unfamiliar. I had an overwhelming sense of sorrow and remorse while, at the same time, experienced the peace, calm and security of knowing I was all right. I knew, for the first time in my life, the feeling that came with a sense of forgiveness. It seemed as though the thickest, softest comforter imaginable had swallowed me. Accepting that unconditional forgiveness has continued to be a difficulty. Continue reading ‘Swimming Upstream – an Autobiography (Part 3)’
Continued from Part 1 – Learning to Learn. Or go to INDEX.
LEARNING TO LIVE
The first few years in Ohio were emotionally devastating for my mother. We lived in abject poverty even by our standards, my mother’s family proved to be more dysfunctional than our own, and work, except for the lowest paid positions, was tough for her to find. I began working before and after school to help out, lying about my age to avoid problems. I also found my missing childhood. My ‘toys’ were different than anyone had hoped, but they succeeded in dulling the pain. By sixteen I drank constantly, was addicted to speed, and had forced my mother to seek a community more conducive to a normal childhood. We moved to Newark, Ohio during my junior year. The school administrators were a little worried about my record, but seemed encouraged by my high grade point average. I graduated in possession of a full scholarship from OSU, twenty-five credits when seventeen were needed, damage from a heart attack I suffered during a speed overdose, and a new addiction to qualudes, which the doctor prescribed for “sleeping problems”. I also held the school record for drinking the most beers in a single sitting. Life was good. Continue reading ‘Swimming Upstream – an Autobiography (Part 2)’
I was tempted to call this “Nobody’s Autobiography”, but thought that may be just too self-deprecating. I love autobiographies – not of famous people – just of ordinary people with ordinary lives. They reveal details about the individual to which most people can relate – rather than the larger-than-life situations of the rich or famous that, if digested, lead to hero worship and fantasy. A good autobiography, it seems to me, is less concerned with fact and more concerned with perception. It is entirely plausible, then, that an autobiography may not be factual down to the last jot and tiddle, but reveals truly how an individual perceives themselves and the memories of their lives. In that respect, it is a more accurate portrayal of someone’s life than an encyclopedia entry would be.
There is an ego trip involved in posting an autobiography, I suppose. I mean, why would I think anyone would care? Well, I am supposing there are others out there like me, who find the famous boring and the mundane interesting. I also think that, while we are each individual, there are commonalities to people’s stories that give cause for community building and empathy. Anyway, as egomaniacal as it may or may not seem, the following portions are the snippets of my life thus far that I consider integral to who and what I am at this moment in time. Continue reading ‘Swimming Upstream – an Autobiography (Part 1)’
BBC News – Wierd Alien Life Forms “May Exist Among Us” http://news.bbc.co.uk/2/hi/science/nature/7893414.stm
This is news? I’ll let the article speak for itself – resist the urge to “pun” this into the ground, much the same a Leo Kottke does with a sweet melody. Oh, the one-liners that exist in this article alone. Do I have the self-control? Continue reading ‘I Just Can’t Resist’
-or- The Idiot of Pensacola Beach
By mid-March 1993, the storms occurring all over the Eastern half of the US lined up perfectly with those occurring in my body, mind and soul. It was a time when every part of my being was railing against the abuse I was inflicting upon it, just as the winds, ice and snow battered communities already preparing for a change of season. I had undertaken the impossible four years earlier, and had poured all of myself into creating a miracle for which I, in my own mind, would be solely responsible. The storms were relentless, however, and my body and mind were beginning to snap like the heavily ice laden power lines in the coastal south. Continue reading ‘The Storm of the Century’
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Rev Andy Little
MINISTRY FROM TWO POLES
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