examination

Meaning

In this Sunday’s service, we discussed a few thoughts from theologians, and one of them had this short sentence: “We rejoice in the meaning God has given us with this life on earth.”

It was interesting to find this commentary regarding a book of the Bible, where the primary refrain is, “Meaningless!” Everything the writer mentions is all meaningless. Everywhere he looks is meaningless. Each of the paths we travel in our lives is always meaningless. Then why, in the middle of all of this despair, can our study lead us to “rejoice in the meaning God has given us?”

Of course, the Teacher (Solomon) doesn’t really think all of life is meaningless. His work is designed to lead us exactly here. So, here we are, and that leaves us wondering about the meaning in our lives. Do we rejoice in the beauty and crackling energy in & around our lives? And, if we’re not, why?

Maybe it’s because we’re distracted and sleepwalking through our lives, right? Maybe we don’t take a second to recognize this meaning/purpose, and be grateful in it. Maybe our lives seem disjointed and random, like they’re happening to us, instead of actually living them with intention and passion. Maybe maybe maybe.

I could continue to list possible reasons to explain our restlessness, our disconnect, but there sure isn’t a one size fits all. They’re as different as we are, mine isn’t yours isn’t The Angel’s.

We each have a story to our lives, inside of the BIG Story. It’s this story that gives us our purpose and/or meaning. And as coincidence would have it, in one of the weekly mass emails I receive, Mark Manson writes, “When people ask, “What is my life purpose?” What they’re actually asking without realizing it is: “How can I use my time in a way that feels meaningful.” … You don’t find your purpose. You build your purpose, experiment by experiment, mistake by mistake.” Then, he asks, “What do you spend your time on that feels meaningful? How can you do more if it?”

What do you think of that? Do we build our purpose? And what does that say about our passivity? What about if we’re waiting for our purpose to knock down the doors of our lives and sit down in the middle of the room, demanding to be addressed? Maybe it isn’t coming.

Yes, God gives each of us meaning – our lives are inherently meaningful. We are unbelievably important, and we don’t have to look for evidence – our existence, the fact that He has created us in, by, and for love, is proof enough. But from there…

How are we spending our time? If our purpose is something that must be built, how are we doing with that??

This email sent me down a new, different, unexpected path, but it’s certainly related. Maybe our joy comes from the pieces of our lives, chosen intentionally, and the way we order them, under Divine guidance. When you spend your time meaningfully, there is a natural joy in that, isn’t there? Maybe all of this, maybe all of creation, is inviting us into that, saying, “do more of that,” and asking us to really enjoy it.

I usually don’t end posts like this, but I am truly asking you, “what is that thing for you?” Tell me – call, email, text, comment, etc – just tell me. Nothing in this life was meant to be done alone (it is “not good”), and this is no different. Maybe meaning and purpose is something that is meant to be pursued and discovered (revealed?) in some dynamic combination of alone & together. So, how about we try that?

A New Thought

I read a New Testament passage and an Old Testament passage every day. It’s study, but not really specifically for any sermons, mostly just for me. Sometimes, it turns into something more. Other times, I just copy verses in my notebook and maybe write any thoughts I might have on them. I’m in 1 Corinthians and Isaiah, now.

Today, Isaiah 61:1-2 read, “The Spirit of the Sovereign Lord is upon me, He has appointed me to bring Good News to the poor, comfort the broken-hearted…announce that the captives will be released, the prisoners will be freed, and the blind will see…He has sent me to tell those who mourn that the time of the Lord’s favor has come.“

This sounds familiar because it appears again in Luke 4, where Jesus (at the beginning of His earthly ministry) goes into a Synagogue, unrolls a scroll, and reads this passage. It’s a goosebumps moment. Imagine if you were there, and this is happening in front of you, that a man comes as a teacher, and reads from a book you have known, about prophesies you have been waiting to see fulfilled, and makes the “me” about Himself. We have the benefit of hindsight, we know what is happening, what will happen, and most importantly, who He is. But imagine if we didn’t. Imagine if it was only a possibility. Could this be the One we’ve been waiting for?

Anyway, I love these kinds of moments. But today, I’m seeing this passage in a new way, connected to the path we’ve been on.

Sunday, we talked about 1 Corinthians 13 (incidentally, not where I am currently in 1 Corinthians – I’ll get there soon) as a statement on what it looks like to live & move through our lives as Jesus followers, in love (patiently, kindly, etc). This is a new branch of the same tree to be included in our self-examination.

We are called to bring the Good News – are we? To comfort the brokenhearted – are we? To announce that the captives will be released, the prisoners will be freed, that the blind will see – are we? To testify that the day of the Lord’s favor has come – are we? We are to do all of these with our hearts and bodies, as well as our mouths.

So, I know this is a 2nd post in as many days, but living an awake/aware existence today, here & now, leaves us in a peculiar position. We are saddened, broken daily with the behavior of our brothers and sisters, as well as our own. We feel powerless to change. And it is too easy to get caught up in this downward spiral of vitriol and violence. We need a way out, light in this increasingly dark tunnel. How can we do this? How can we find beauty and truth, even in this? How can we BE that beauty and truth, even in this?

Am I loving? Am I choosing to act like a walking, talking, breathing 1 Corinthians 13? (Now, if I say no to that, then there are different questions, I suppose. Or not. Maybe we are just deciding to use the tools of the enemy to fight back, following the same patterns that created such a mess. As King said, “Returning violence for violence multiplies violence, adding deeper darkness to a night already devoid of stars. Darkness cannot drive out darkness; only light can do that. Hate cannot drive out hate; only love can do that.”)

We can choose to love each other, no matter what. (And it’s the “no matter what” that is such a high, treacherous mountain to climb.)

And we can choose to bring the Good News, the one true Gospel of Jesus Christ, with every thought, word, and deed. Are our words (and posts) announcing freedom and sight? Are we pointing to the life He gives?

I sat in the stands last night at a basketball game at Lycoming college, thinking about everything that was happening. The boys (young men) using the gifts they have been divinely bestowed, the coaches teaching them, the service of the referees, and those of us in the bleachers all together in one giant mixing bowl. Was all of it loving? Was all of it praise, worship? Of course not…

But some of it was. And that’s what’s so cool and hopeful. We can change our present (there isn’t any changing our future – the tomb was empty and God wins), we can choose a new path. It just takes our submission. It just takes us taking our thoughts and actions and bringing them into (or at least closer to) His will. We can love, and we can drive out this hate. All it takes is everything, and it starts right now.

[That’s the end of the post, but Thursday is Thanksgiving and I wanted to wish you all a very Happy Thanksgiving. I am truly grateful for you, in every way. I’m grateful you read these posts. I’m grateful to walk alongside of you, to build my pyramid scheme of love with you. – And one last thing, I said, “all it takes is everything,” right? I am fully grateful that the “everything” we are (and have) is from His strong, loving hands.

Ok, 1 last, last thing: When I think about His grace and mercy on my life, I think of my 2nd favorite children’s book, “Horton Hatches The Egg,” and how often the last line appears to have been written specifically for me. “And they sent him home happy, 100%” Happy Thanksgiving, everybody.]

A New Submission & Thoughts on It

I received a new submission to this blog, and I’ll share it in a minute (with my thoughts).

But first, I do want to tell you that I am still reeling, still taken apart by Sunday’s message on 1 Corinthians, chapter 13: the love chapter. The simple fact that it is a choice, a decision we consciously make, is overwhelming. When I act in an unloving way (impatient, unkind, easily angered, keeping score/record of wrongs, etc), for whatever reason, it is a rejection of Jesus’ role in my life, heart, hands, feet & behavior. – reading over that paragraph, it sounds jumbled and full of side comments, paths & parentheses. I’m not cleaning it up, because that’s exactly how I feel.

Now, the submission (from an anonymous author):

“Lee and Annette Woofenden indicate the possibility that a happily married couple, under certain conditions may be reunited in Paradise. In a message entitled, “Loving Jesus More Than Life” by John Piper, dated November 23, 2015, he refers to Matthew 10:37 “Whoever loves father or mother more than me is not worthy of me” and “Whoever loves son or daughter more than me is not worthy of me.”

If our desire to enter Heaven is based on wanting to be reunited with a happily married spouse and that desire exceeds waning to enjoy the love of Jesus, we risk losing the thing we desire due to incorrect priority.

Jesus is aware of our love for a spouse. If we love Jesus foremost, He will provide a love relationship for a spouse or parent or child.”

I don’t know if you remember, a few months ago, we received another submission that was posted (September 22, 2025, “Til Death?”) on a similar subject. This one has a slightly different tone.

“Till Death?” details the unselfish, beautiful, covenantal marriage relationship that could (and that’s all we really have in our limited knowledge, isn’t it? a “could.”) endure forever and ever in paradise. Here, the thoughtful writer explores the “risk” of an “incorrect priority.” It is as if he goes down a path, then, satisfied, wonders if the path is the right path, ultimately deciding that whatever the path, the love of Jesus must be “foremost.” I don’t know, so this is only my imagination, but it seems like a person wrestling with the Scriptures and his/her place in them.

We can (and often do) read the Bible and, if it doesn’t agree with our opinions, we toss it aside. We want the Bible to submit to our will, instead of the other way around. Seemingly, this person isn’t content to leave a thread of faith, and his heart for God, unexplored. And if his faith & heart don’t line up, then he/she will take any level of demolition and reconstruction to make sure it does. It’s a beautiful picture of a marriage to a spouse, and even more so of a marriage to His/Her Creator/Savior.

I now see that’s what is ravaging me about this week’s love message. I don’t always want to act in a loving way. I want to be impatient, I want you to know what you did wrong and apologize. When you hurt me like this, I want you to change. I like the adrenaline of anger. I really, really like to be right. I lose hope. And I can give you a million reasons why, and for at least a hundred of them, you’d agree with me. You’d think I am justified in my un-love.

And this beautiful Bible… And the words, life, death, resurrection, and heart of Jesus, to all of my well-thought arguments, listens patiently, nodding along, validates my feelings, maybe He weeps at my broken heart & spirit (just like He did for Mary & Martha), but He hears me, really hears me, and then I imagine He looks me straight in the eyes HE created for me, and softly, tenderly, says, “Yeah, about that. You know how much I love you, but I don’t care about that at all. You’re going to love them anyway.”

He knows I will. I will choose Him, choose love. So I try. I mean, I will, eventually (because there is only “do or do not, there is no try”).

We don’t get it right today, or all the time, we just keep showing up – to Him, to each other, to ourselves. And as our anonymous author shows us, if we can just not give up, He leads us to the right answers.

Maybe The AI Is Reading My Mind

The app that hosts our website is called Jetpack, and every day, it gives a writing prompt. Apparently, in the virtual world, more (posting, words, videos, content, clicks, advertisements, etc) is always preferable. Sometimes, that’s true, but as I post once/week, I am probably not their ideal client. Today’s prompt is, “Do you need time?”

I only discovered this prompt when I opened my computer to write, and it’s often surprising how well these prompts connect to my intention. (Now that I think about it, I wonder if the prompt is universal, the same for every Jetpack creator, or if it’s uniquely generated for each user. Maybe its not a beautiful coincidence at all. Maybe it’s the AI reading my mind, or at least using my previous data in an algorithm to know what I’m thinking even before I do… Scary, but let’s move on anyway, we can talk about The Machines taking over another time.)

I meant to write about a mass email I got this week. It addressed the question, “Does AI make us dumber?” (Maybe we’re talking about The Machines now, after all.) And Mark Manson’s conclusion was, “What’s happening is the same thing that happens with every new revolutionary piece of technology – we stop exercising some mental muscles because the tool makes that particular task easier (citing miracles like GPS, calculators, and the internet)…The question isn’t: “Will AI ruin our brains?” The real question is: “What thinking do we still need to protect – and what are we better off outsourcing?””

Now, this is a topic we discuss a lot. What do we keep, what do we leave behind, and what is the cost of leaving those things behind? Where are we spending our time, and is that where we want to be spending our time? Are those answers in line with our values? Do we really need more time, or have we just mindlessly allowed the time we have to be sucked by the leeches we ignored? What thinking do we need to protect?

Last night, we had a dual in-person/virtual teaching at the church and online, and it reminded me of the Manson email. Before COVID, we (as a church and as a culture) had very few options for online connection, now we do, and what happened was that, before we knew it, we had allowed the technology to direct our lives, the tail began to wag the dog, and we replaced a life lived IRL with screens and message boards.

Last night was very cool, as a supplement. We integrate lots of ways to stay in touch, but the actual in-person community needs to be protected, it simply cannot be left behind. Just because we can, doesn’t mean we should. Jeff Goldblum’s character in Jurassic Park says, “Your scientists were so preoccupied with whether or not they could, they didn’t stop to think if they should.”

My brother in law has been using an AI tool to turn his poetry into songs that sound like they could be on the radio today. It’s amazing. He asks it to, and it does. And it’s also not difficult to make the leap to what this could mean to the music industry, to the work of real humans playing real instruments. The truth of that creative expression desperately needs to be protected.

Facebook is such a wonderful space to follow people, groups and companies that are interesting to us AND it is a breeding ground for abysmally inhuman behavior. We have to constantly decide what kind of Facebook we want, what needs to be protected, and what needs to be relegated to the trash heap of history, tradition and/or pseudo-progress. Yes, we can, but now what? Will we?

My point is, maybe we will, maybe we should, but we have to be making those decisions. In every area of our lives.

I was watching a People’s Court case while I ate my breakfast today, and a woman was asked why she wasn’t paying her rent. I fully expected a shoulder shrug, and mumbled, “I don’t know,” but instead, she answered, “I had other bills I decided to pay first.” Maybe it was a bad decision, but it was totally hers. Her life wasn’t happening to her, she was living her life (at least this part of it) on purpose. And that’s really the opportunity for us, isn’t it? We’ve been given these lives by our Creator, now what? Will we simply squander our days, jobs, relationships, sleepwalking through the moments, dreaming of “more time,” or finally live the time we already have with purpose and intention? The choice is ours.

The Questions

It’s the questions, isn’t it? We study the Scriptures, words and contexts, digging deeper and deeper into the meanings and interpreting it however we interpret it. Then, hopefully, we can integrate the lessons and/or practices into our lives, and this integration invites us into new versions of ourselves. This is the beauty, opportunity, and responsibility of a sermon.

This week, we studied the example in Ecclesiastes of a person who has all the money and material wealth and can’t enjoy it. Admittedly, this is not a difficult jump to make from ancient wisdom literature to 2025 America, so the job of the teacher is fairly simple. (I find this to be the case with most of the Bible – we have not progressed or evolved nearly as far as we like to believe. The Israelites continued to relive the same loops through the Old Testament, and so do we.)

I think about this a lot. But on Monday mornings, I sit with my notebook, thinking about, in this case, what are my values, and are my answers consistent with my life? And then, where have I chosen a different #1, a different, inferior WHY to inform and animate my life? These are the nagging thorns in my mind that keep me up at night.

We can read verses and passages, close our Bibles, and remain unaffected. We can even commit these same verses to memory, without ever letting them make the giant leap from our heads to our hearts. But I find it’s these questions that create the bridges. They’re like keys that unlock closed doors. When was the last time we meditated on words written thousands of years ago? I would suggest (maybe I would hope) very recently. If we have ever been conflicted about the long hours at work that keep us from home, from our families, and have calculated the cost of our careers and hobbies, that is simply today’s form of the Jewish Talmud.

The Talmud (in probably offensively simple terms) is an extra-Biblical text where rabbis wrote about and commented on the Scriptures. Essentially, it was where they worked out what this meant for their lives, how it would/could be expressed in real life. We do this, too, every day. We just don’t have a cool name for our seeking.

Solomon details the meaninglessness of the idolatry of our stuff. And tv shows and blog posts ask us to stop to look at the hold our own things have on us. Whether we realize it or not, we’re diving into a practice that has existed as long as we have. What do we believe? Do we, really? And if that’s true, if we do actually believe that, what does that mean for our lives? It’s easy to see how vital this testament of faith & self-discovery can change every little part of our lives. And it should. Maybe the passive, detached distance we too often choose is the exception. And maybe the disruption we all feel is that this exception, being on the outside, just dipping our toes in, is no longer good enough.

Set Apart

While we were on vacation, the Angel and I went out to dinner at a fancy restaurant. She wondered, “does it ever surprise you how people dress at different places?” Now, before I give my 2 cents on this, it’s entrely possible she was talking to me. I was wearing very casual shorts and a polo shirt. She said she wasn’t referring to me specifically, so I’ll choose to believe her. But, honestly, whether she meant it or not, she was right. Did it surprise me how I was dressed at such a fancy place, on a date with a beautiful woman (who looked like a million bucks)?

My answer was no, but it was a complicated no.

I wasn’t surprised because I do quite a few weddings, and more and more guests are wearing t-shirts and baseball caps. There used to be “church clothes,” and now there aren’t. Teachers at the local school district no longer wear ties or dress shoes, often opting for jeans and yoga pants instead.

Now, on the one hand, at least in the case of church clothes, that you come is more important than how you come, right? And any obstacle should be removed, immediately. And maybe that reasoning applies in other places. That our weird uncle shows up to our wedding is the point, no matter what he’s wearing. And if being comfortable helps the school with teaching times tables or American history, then by all means, dress down.

There is a cost to everything, and in this casualization (yes, probably not a word, but you get the point) of our culture, something has been lost.

If we don’t set moments, people, and events apart as special, will they eventually lose their special-ness? Will we become desensitized to the concept of significance? Will everything just become common and forgettable? If I can go to the gym, then to the grocery store, then to dinner with the Angel, without changing my clothes (or mindset), does that subconsciously express an equality where none exist? A date with my wife is not the same as grocery shopping. Without a delineation between moments, wouldn’t they all run together?

On days I officiate weddings, the preparation takes time. I shave, iron my shirt, purposefully choose a tie and wristwatch. This focus, I think, is totally appropriate for the ceremony – after all, this is the first day of a marriage. Superficial or not, this intention helps to move my heart into a reverent posture.

Now, maybe it’s not that important. Maybe we don’t need superficialities to recognize special-ness. Maybe we shouldn’t. Maybe it isn’t necessarily a disregard for significance. Maybe it is the reclamation of the essence of a beautiful moment without any bells or whistles. Maybe.

Or maybe it is a blurring of lines, disrespect for time and space, disregard of the sacred nature of everyone and everything. Maybe some things should feel different, maybe they should be different.

Who knows? See? A complicated no. Here’s what I know: I want you there Sunday morning, and I don’t care if you haven’t gotten to brush your teeth and are still wearing your pajamas. But here’s what else I know: I was underdressed for our dinner. I felt as if I was communicating something about our time that I didn’t want to communicate, even for a second.

We can throw away convention, if we want, and cut out all mindless traditions. But that’s the key, isn’t it? The word “mindless.” We can lose the things, but we need to be aware that we are losing them. We need to be absolutely sure we can, and want to, bear the cost. Things don’t gain or lose their significance in t-shirts and yoga pants. Things only lose their significance through our apathy and mindlessness.

Legacy

Last Sunday, I gave a pretty personal message. Sometimes, the most personal things can be alienating. No one is going through the exact same circumstances or situations, no 2 people are really walking the same path. However, far more often, the most personal expressions are the most universal, because we are all having this human experience and share much, much more than we don’t. When Taylor Swift talks about her ultra-famous boyfriend breaking up with her, of course we can’t relate to those specific details, but we certainly do with broken hearts. We hear the words from her diary and they feel pulled from our souls, from our own relationships.

Paul gave his farewell address to the elders in Ephesus…a wildly different place than our small town in Pennsylvania, different people, different culture. Yet, his words ring true to us, here, now, as we read them 2,000 years later on our cell phone apps. So, it’s my birthday, and it probably isn’t yours (unless you’re my cousin), but we’ve all asked the same questions, right? What would our farewell address be? I mentioned our legacy, and that’s such a pretentious word, but it just means “something passed down.” What would we pass down? Would they remember us, and how?

On one hand, we can’t spend too much time considering this, or we’ll end up thinking about how to live a beautiful life instead of actually living one. But, as with most everything significant, it doesn’t just happen. Beautiful, lasting lives require examination and intention.

I asked these questions: Do we want our last post to be a mean, nasty, cutting one? Do we want to leave with a separation, with something between us? Do we want the last thing we say to be anything less than love, grace, peace, or Jesus? Do we want the people we leave to know we love them? Have we told them today? Have we shown them today? Have we proclaimed the Gospel, with our words, hands, feet, resources, and lives? Have we been patient and kind? Have we loved? 

I often reference our social media posts, because I find them shockingly sharp and aggressive, from even the most lovely people. It seems that we don’t consider their impact, as if they’re made in a vacuum, as if they are not actual personal connection, not us at all. It’s like the coliseum, where we fight, kill or be killed. (It is not. There are flesh and blood moms and dads, sisters, brothers, behind those profile pictures and posts of perfect dinner plates.)

Anyway. Have we loved? I can think of no better string to wrap around our fingers or tattoo on our hands. That is a fitting legacy, maybe the only fitting legacy.

Or have we been annoyed, short, bothered? Did we ignore those holy moments, or were we just distracted, or running late? Maybe we scolded them, made them feel small, mocked, made fun? Do they feel inspired after seeing us, by simply seeing themselves through our own eyes, through fresh words and possibilities? Are they beaten down again, or filled with the hope of redemption? When they walk away, have they seen the love of God in, from, us?

Life can be pretty hard. Do we want to be the ones that ease pain, bring peace, extending hands instead of throwing fists? Are we the ones who are raising our arms to defend our sides, or are we taking our arms and wrapping them around each other? Have we loved, always, and in all ways? I know that last answer is no, of course it’s no, but if we can only start thinking about what it is that we are passing down, maybe it’ll be no less often. And maybe we can start singing some great new songs.

A Dallas Cowboy Win

The Dallas Cowboys are the official NFL team of the Bridge Faith Community, I’ve decided, and yesterday they barely eked out an overtime win over the hated rival New York Giants. To be honest with you, it was pretty disappointing, and as I am examining why that is, I am finding that it speaks to a reality that is far mare important than some dumb game in Texas.

Every year, I think the Cowboys will win the Super Bowl, and every year since 1995, I am wrong. This no longer ruins my year, season, month or even day, like it did when I was a teenager. They are just my favorite team. I am not a player, I have no stake in the team whatsoever. Yet, I would say I love them. [Obviously, not in the way I love my wife or any other person I actually know. I’m not an insane teenager anymore.] This is, I recognize, a ridiculous reality, but it is a reality nonetheless.

Now, let me tell you about a family beach vacation, about 10-15 years ago. One evening, we were on the boardwalk and my sister and I began to argue – I don’t remember what it was about, more than that I wanted her to say and/or do something, and she wasn’t saying or doing that thing, that way. She wanted the same from me. We had pictures in our heads of how the evening should go, and when they didn’t, we were frustrated and angry.

(If you have a sibling, you know the kind of ‘frustrated and angry’ I’m talking about. There is a certain safety in screaming out of frustrating and anger at someone you’ve lived with since you were born.)

Why were we arguing on a beautiful night on a boardwalk in Ocean City? For the same reason I was (am) disappointed in a nice win. It’s also the same reason the Angel and I usually have conflict, in our relationship. When I’m shockingly mean to me, in my head, it’s for this reason, too. And it’s also why I don’t buy, or listen to, the new Counting Crows albums. While we’re on the subject, it’s probably why we all hate each other on social media.

My sister and I fought because we had an expectation for the evening, we expected something from the other. I expect the Dallas Cowboys to win every game, comfortably. When I listen to new Counting Crows records, I still have August & Everything After in my head, and this new one is never that! I walk into these conversations with my wife with expectations that she will see it my way, or respond to me in a particular way.

Expectations are about what they should do, what they are supposed to say, how this should go, who should win, how you are supposed to see the world, and on and on. And when they don’t, when it doesn’t, I am disappointed and petty. I lash out, or pout (in other words, I say mean things or nothing at all.)

That night on the boardwalk opened my eyes to a new question, instead of why she didn’t participate in my mental construct for a perfect evening. Who in the world was I to decide how she should be, what she should say???? What gave me the right to be the all-knowing arbiter of what is supposed to be?

And when I finally asked that question, and searched my super ugly parts for the truth, it’s easy to see that I gave me that right. It’s simple arrogance, the same idolatry that is so commonplace all over the Bible and still is, today, in every corner of all creation. I didn’t like that answer, but what I like or don’t like doesn’t really matter when we’re talking about the truth.

What if I could have allowed my sister to be and do only what she wants to be and do? What if I didn’t have to control every aspect of all people and circumstances? I’ll tell you what happens – I am free to enjoy the time. I am surprised by the kindness, care and thoughtfulness of people, and the stunning beauty of my life, when it can unfold naturally, without my need to write everyone’s story by the blinding light of my own altar. Most importantly, without expectation, I am free to be grateful.

I can’t always do it (like yesterday’s NFL game, for example), maybe I never will be perfect, but I’ll sure keep trying. It’s totally worth it. Those Counting Crows albums probably aren’t so bad, after all.

A Genesis 28:16 World

Genesis 28:16 reads, “When Jacob awoke from his sleep, he thought, “Surely the Lord is in this place, and I was not aware of it.”” I reference it often, the most recent of which being just last Sunday, telling the story I’m about to tell again, here & now.

This verse is inextricably tied to the death of my dad, because it found me as I was raw and in such pain, struggling with his absence, mourning the hole he left. The truth that I was also mourning the hole I allowed while he was alive was almost too much to bear – I was very unaware. This warning changed the rest of my life, as I vowed to never be unaware ever again, never miss the divine in others, never sleep through the sacred moments & people (which is, of course, all of them) in my life.

You know how vows are, though…I have still missed far too much. But I’m trying, and I’m getting better, more awake, all the time.

Anyway, we moved my youngest son into his college dorm room last week. The school, Lycoming College, then, held a Convocation. I had never heard the word before, (and I really like words, and I like to know lots of them!!), so I didn’t know what we were in for.

A Convocation, according to our great, all-knowing sage, Wikipedia, is “a group of people formally assembled for a special purpose, mostly ecclesiastical or academic. The Britannica dictionary defines it as “a large formal meeting of people” It’s just a gathering, or the act of calling people together for a gathering. (There is such a cool thing coming, in about a paragraph or 2.) This convocation was a “welcome, new students,” gathering, and was moving, emotional, and charged with all of the weight of beginning a new stage of life, for all of us, students & parents alike.

Well, not all of us. There were many students listening to music, watching TikTok videos, or messaging others. Then, a few rows from me, 3 students were loudly talking (I still don’t know if they were talking to each other or their phones – I’m pretty sure it was certainly about the content on their phones.) Did I say “loudly?” LOUDLY. They were so loud, not using their inside voices at all.

Now. Of course, this awful behavior, and these 3 people, is/are rude and disrespectful. Elementary children are less obnoxious than these college students. BUT. What struck me was how depressing it was, and how depressed I was, for them.

They were taking their first steps into a brand new world. They are beginning their adult lives, full of promise and possibility. They are becoming the people they will be, and this process starts with this beautiful ceremony. What could be more significant??

And they missed it. And I don’t think they’re unique in this, I think it’s probably a Genesis 28:16 world.

Now, can you guess where the word Convocation comes from? Leviticus!! In Leviticus 23, God instructed His people to set aside holy times to gather, worship, and refocus on His covenant. Convocation actually means a “sacred meeting!!”

Surely the Lord was in that place, and they were unaware.

My heart breaks, even now. They’ll never get another convocation as first time, incoming college students. God was there, filling that gymnasium, whispering His call on their lives, through the 6 people who addressed them, and through the other students who will be the iron that sharpens them.

The thing about the burning bush was not that it was burning, bushes burn all the time, it’s that it wasn’t being consumed. That takes presence and attention, awareness when the Lord is in this place, wherever “this place” is. These 3 were like what was surely countless others who walked on by, unaware, until Moses noticed and his life, and the lives of a nation and a world, changed.

And my next thought is always, I wonder where I have been unaware. Where have I missed it, missed my life, missed the sacred in my midst? I really hope those kids wake up, and I hope we all do, too, so we never again suffer the crushing ache of having to say, “and I was unaware.”

A List

Today’s site prompt is to list 30 things that make you happy. Maybe I’ll do that, it sounds like fun. Morrissey. My AmazonMusic Discovery Mix. Rollercoasters. Fruit & yogurt parfaits. Cool mornings. This wedding picture on our wall. Clocks. Well, maybe I won’t do it here. I do have something to discuss.

Sunday’s message asked the, frankly, terrifying question: Will they know us by our love? I know, it sounds divisive to use language like this. Who are they? Who is us? But, does it really matter? Will another person who is not me know me by my love? Will other people who are not me see/meet me and think, that man there is a walking, talking, hugging illustration of 1st Corinthians 13? If you spend more than a moment considering this question, it’s a big, convicting mirror that asks a million more questions.

I wake up with the Angel. In the summer’s, she has Fridays off, which means she goes in at 6 from Monday-Thursday, so the alarm rings at 5ish on those days. I no longer get up that early, on purpose, except in the summers. Usually, we leave together and I go to the gym, but today is a rest day. (Maybe a rest morning, maybe I’ll go in the afternoon or evening. Who knows?) Today, with all of this time, I ate my breakfast while watching an Amazon documentary called Shiny Happy People.

Shiny Happy People is a series, as it turns out, with each season digging into a new, different topic. Season 1 dealt with the Duggar family. It’s possible you’ve heard of them, they are a couple who has 1,000 children, a reality tv show and a growing mountain of controversy. Season 2 concerns the teen ministry, Teen Mania. Apparently, it was absolutely massive, and I had never, ever heard of it. Teen Mania, and it’s tentacles, were gigantic, and now does not exist, due to the many ex-members who went public with their experiences.

So, now I have a new question. We are called to bring healing, right? Are the things we do & words we say bringing healing to the broken & hurting?

This ministry (which, like most other cults, began as a beautiful community of Christian faith) was positive for many, but was a wrecking ball to others. I wonder if my words are kind of like that, if I am like that. Are my words just another instrument of damage, or do they bring peace and hope into dark places?

The documentary was unbelievably frustrating and so, so sad. The Gospel of Jesus Christ being weaponized for the ultimate end of political gain, power, and money is wildly offensive. Essentially, it was The Gospel being used in service of a different gospel, this one a false counterfeit, the gospel of me. It’s selfish and creates so many obstacles to the true, loving relationship with Our Crteator that saved so many of our lives. That I can inflict these wounds for a vote or a dollar is clear, there is no fundamental difference between us.

And THAT is why these questions are so important. This Teen Mania guy probably began as someone just like us, who loves Jesus and wants you to do the same, then he got some attention and status, then some more power, which went unchecked, which translated to more and more money, yet more power, until he was a monster with a raging, unquenchable ego who forgot our call to love, and to heal. When these people he traumatized finally spoke out loud, he lied, denied, and continued to steal money from youth groups, until he could no longer so do, and left the country to try to build the same model elsewhere.

If we don’t hold The Spirit’s Hand and ask, if we don’t examine ourselves and our motivations, if we don’t double and triple check our social media posts and messages, if we don’t pay attention to our relationships and communities, if we don’t stay on the path of Jesus, we can, and will, be Teen Mania, inflicting pain everywhere we go. The enemy doesn’t need us to follow him, just ourselves.

Our words still have the power to build or destroy, to give, or take, life. For what end will we use them? We can be creators or destroyers. Which will it be?

Now…23 more things that make me happy. Bacon. Ice cold glasses of water. GIFs of babies dancing. I bet I’ll get waaaay more than 30.