SEEING THE EXTRAORDINARY

Category: Gratefulness

  • Gratitude Lived

    They were grouped together like they had no meaning.  They were categorized and set aside – to be avoided at all costs.  From the beginning, they were labeled.  The things they were called, among many, were diseased, disgusting, deformed, unclean, destroyed, forgotten.  They had something that separated them physically from everyone else – and the community never failed to remind them of that.  They were the unseen, the excluded.  Keep them at a distance and all is better for it.  That was the norm until Jesus.  He saw differently.  He saw humanity, God’s beloved, the created and adored.  He saw so much more.  He had not lumped them together into some group to avoid.  He reached out – literally – where no one dared to reach.  He loved where no one dared to love.  He restored where all had been taken away.  

    Jesus probably shouldn’t have been in this part of town.  No one who was holy would have dared such a thing.  He risked being exposed.  If he was exposed to the things which would make him unclean, how could he function in his role of priest and prophet?  He couldn’t even enter the temple.  That was where he belonged, in the church, not out in the streets among these people.  And yet, in his predictable unpredictability he wanders to places he should not have been.  It’s like he doesn’t know the rules of the religious – or maybe just doesn’t care.  

    In this part of town, he risks being too close to those people – you know, the people who were nasty and gross.  They weren’t the same.  They were invaluable, separated because of being unworthy to live with everyone else.  And that’s what happened – see, if Jesus had stayed where he should, he wouldn’t have risked being in any proximity to them.  And here they were, hollering to the top of their lungs for mercy.  Have mercy, that had to be embarrassing.  It was a shame that someone as holy as Jesus would have to be exposed to such low life.  And yet Jesus doesn’t see it this way at all.  He doesn’t see their diseases.  He doesn’t smell their poverty.  He hears their cries.  These are his people – even though at least one of them is from a different group.  You heard that right – one of the people hollering is not like the others.  He not only has been excluded by the fear of others, he has been thrown into a group which he would not belong on any normal basis.  I guess they figured that when you are excluded and unworthy – you might as well throw them all in the same barrel together.  But again, they were Jesus’ people.  So Jesus sees them – and he does something about it.  

    Luke 17:11-19

    11 On the way to Jerusalem Jesus was going through the region between Samaria and Galilee. 12 As he entered a village, ten lepers approached him. Keeping their distance, 13 they called out, saying, “Jesus, Master, have mercy on us!” 14 When he saw them, he said to them, “Go and show yourselves to the priests.” And as they went, they were made clean. 15 Then one of them, when he saw that he was healed, turned back, praising God with a loud voice. 16 He prostrated himself at Jesus’ feet and thanked him. And he was a Samaritan. 17 Then Jesus asked, “Were not ten made clean? But the other nine, where are they? 18 Was none of them found to return and give praise to God except this foreigner?” 19 Then he said to him, “Get up and go on your way; your faith has made you well.”

    Healing can bring on many different reactions.  It can evoke deep cleansing tears of a life that has been restored.  It can open many doors of joy and elation about what can be one more time.  Healing can make us want to jump right back into the life that had been snatched away like a thief in the night.  It can make us want to get on with life so quickly so we forget where we once were. 

    Up until this point, this group had been ripped away from their families and thrown into exclusion.  They had lost all they once held so dear.  They had not touched or hugged their loved ones in so very long.  The idea of embracing anyone else had been so far from their minds that this would be a welcome reunion for the ages.  Why would anyone delay such a reunion?  Why would you want to put off what they thought would never happen?  Life has been restored.  Life that had been ripped away had been handed back in an act of love that no one could have imagined.  Why wouldn’t we all run to our loved ones in such joy that all else faded behind?  It seems perfectly reasonable to me.

    But there was one who thought differently.  That mercy he has so shouted for, longed for, begged for, and dreamed about had come true.  That mercy he had all but given up on had been given.  It had been given in such a big dose that he did what came natural to him.  He ran back as fast as he could.  His feet had been restored so he ran.  He was out of breath, panting as he fell on his face just to say thank you.  It was more than words.  It was an expression of everything he had long held inside.  It was a genuine gratitude for a transformation no one could have seen coming.  He could not run to his family before he ran to the Mercy Giver.  His life could not begin until he had turned back to give thanks for a life that would never be again.  To say this was life changing would have been the ultimate understatement.  Mercy had restored a hope, a future, and a joy that no one could quite explain.  So he ran back to the Giver of Mercy before moving forward with his new life.  Thank you! Thank you! Thank you!

    Jesus asks an interesting question – not of the man – but of the whole situation.  He is not asking this man what happened to the rest.  Jesus just kind of throws it out there.  He states the obvious.  He mentions what others may have sensed.  All of them had been healed but one returns.  And the one who returns isn’t even the expected one.  The one who really shows the most gratefulness for his restoration is the one who was not a Jew.  He was already the excluded, even in his regular life.  He was already held separate by the Jews – at arms length – avoided.  He was already among the undesirable.  He had just sunk to the lowest of lows.  And here he is, returning.  Maybe his restoration was even more beautiful because a Jewish leader had seen him, recognized his value, and provided mercy.  Maybe he was so overwhelmed with thankfulness that gratitude seemed the only answer.  The others didn’t return – they went on with their new life – their healed life.  They went forward.  This man did too, but not without first giving thanks.  And a bonus – he was healed from the inside out.  His restoration was more than could meet the eye.  Sure his skin was restored, but so was his heart, his hope, and his joy.  He had been given more than he ever lost.  Jesus saw a beloved.  And Jesus provided mercy.

    Our lives may look quite different if our gratitude brought us to the feet of the Giver of Mercy.  We may find ourselves not being able to move forward without first bowing to the One who chose to restore.  Gratitude may come as a natural response to opportunity for a life we didn’t even know was possible.  Gratitude is more than the simple exclamation of thank you.  It is a life lived knowing that the change was due to the great Giver of Mercy.  May we live in gratitude.

  • With Gratitude (Personal Post)

    It was 23 years ago that I made one of the most important decisions of my life.  I stood in a church and watched the woman I would call my beloved walk down the aisle.  It was the day my father lit his robe on fire with the unity candle (which Wendy didn’t even want in the first place).  Side note, he handled it like a champ – as he always did.  He put it out and just kept rolling.  Most people had no idea.  As Wendy made her way towards the front of the church, she was absolutely beautiful – but what I didn’t know is she would become more and more beautiful as the years went by.  And here were are, 23 years later.  I’m not sure many would have put their bet on us being here this many years later.  For so many reasons, it seemed unlikely.  But we are still moving forward together – and I couldn’t be more grateful.

    This is not intended to be one of those sappy posts.  I’m not much for those and neither is Wendy.  This is intended to be more of a gratitude post.  I don’t do this much because Wendy isn’t necessarily excited when I talk about her.  She is the quiet one.  She feels deeply but is reserved.  My Dad swore she didn’t speak more than 5 words in the first 3 years of our relationship.  Then, he said once she started, she never stopped.  Wendy is a gift to the lives she touches and my Dad was as excited as anyone to have her as one of his own.

    I do want to say that I’ve learned so much in our time together.  The lessons I have learned and the wisdom I have gained would not have been the same without her.  We have struggled together.  We have celebrated together.  We have welcomed children into our lives and watched them grow into amazing young women.  We have done this together.  And for me, that has been essential.  It hasn’t always been easy.  There have been so many times it seemed easier to give up than to keep going.  But we chose to keep going.  We kept struggling together.  That has paid off.  Here we are.

    23 years down and as many as God allows to go.  It isn’t perfect – but I wouldn’t want it to be – because then that would mean I wouldn’t be a part of it.  It isn’t always easy – nothing valuable ever is.  It isn’t always what we would want – but it is so much more than we could have ever dreamed.  Today, I am grateful – my heart is full – and my life is joyful.  Thank you, Wendy Mitchell – I love you.  

  • No More Time

    SLOW DOWN!  So many times we want to scream this to the top of our lungs…as life speeds by quicker than we can comprehend.  When we see our children growing up or experience so many “firsts” or celebrate special occasions…we want to be able to slow time down.  We want to savor the moments that we treasure so much.  But no matter how loud we scream, time keeps moving…and we can grow weary trying to capture what has already passed.

    Recently, I was a part of a training that discussed differences among cultures.  A big difference for so many that come to America is our fixation on time.  We schedule ourselves to death…almost literally.  We value promptness…getting upset with those that don’t.  We don’t want wasted moments in life…so we have big, fancy planners to remind us to keep up and do more.  We are fascinated with how much we can fit into a day and disappointed when we can only squeeze 24 hours out of most days.  Some try to figure out how to sleep less so they can do more.  For those that work too much, they seek more time so they can also see their families.

    Time is something we can’t buy, though.  We don’t get the option to purchase an hour or barter for an extra 15 minutes…can you imagine the national deficit if we could?!?!  We only get so much time and often, that is way shorter than we planned.  So what do we do?  We have money to make and goals to accomplish and children to raise and ladders to climb.  We don’t have time…

    I am as guilty as anyone else.  On my wrist is an intent bracelet.  There is printed on it this word…REST.  Yes, I require this word to be on my wrist to remind me that rest is important.  I am horrible about taking the time to rest and this is my little reminder of the value and the need to simply rest.  In some ways, I am almost disappointed I have to be reminded.  But in other ways, I am grateful I see the value of rest and treasure it enough to figure out little ways to remind me.

    Since we can’t buy time, borrow time, or trade for it…maybe we stop counting it.  Stop worrying about how old we are and how much time we supposedly have left.  Stop focusing on what we haven’t done and is still to accomplish.  What if time doesn’t matter?  What if we simply enjoy the gift of each moment?  What if we stop to see the beauty in this life we have been given?  What if we take a moment to just breathe?  It isn’t a waste.  Maybe we even change our rhythm…count treasured moments rather than hours passed…count experiences rather than dollars…count relationships rather than transactions…count gifts rather than accumulation.  Maybe today is the day to stop counting and start…living.  And maybe today, we rest.

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    image from Google Images

  • Caregivers…YOU are a gift

    You are seen…you are heard…appreciated, valued, loved…overworked, overwhelmed…precious, gifted, treasured… You have the most difficult job that I know.  You are a caregiver.

    Caregivers rarely get credit, accolades, recognition.  They are often the unseen gifts, left unopened on Christmas morning, but the most valuable of anything under the tree.  Those you care for often are not able to express their gratitude.  For those that care for family with memory loss, there is most often no ability by their loved one to say thank you and sometimes comes out as hatefulness instead.  For those that care for the dying, it is all your loved ones can do to take the next breath and speaking thanks just isn’t an option.  For those that are there, day in and day out, with children of mental disabilities, they do not have the capacity to understand that sacrifice and love you are giving (although they KNOW deep down they are loved by you).  It is most often a thankless, unseen, underappreciated place in life.  But it is also the most COURAGEOUS act.

    It takes courage to get up each day to love and care for others.  There are days that seem to drag on with demands that are too much.  There are moments that you just need to find your own breath.  And as much as I talk about taking a break, many of you simply do not have the option of taking time for yourself.  You are consumed by the position you fill.

    All of that being said…I want you to hear “THANK YOU”.  Thank you for your sacrifice.  Thank you for giving of your life to care for those that you love and that love you.  Thank you for the moments you could have spent on yourself and instead, you gave of yourself.  Thank you for the times when you were having to do difficult tasks in the face of much opposition but you carried on because you loved so very much. Thank you for loving with your whole self…with all you had to give…and still giving.  Thank you!  YOU are a gift.

    And…YOU are seen.  We see you…mom that is caring for children that will never be able to care for themselves… Dads that are taking care of moms that have lost the ability to function…  Children that are caring for parents that can no longer call their names and don’t recognize your face any longer… Families that are taking turns feeding and clothing and bathing… Friends that sit at bedsides so families can find some sense of rest… WE SEE YOU.  And YOU are a gift.

    As a pastor and grief counselor, I have the privilege to watch caregivers at work. They are often quiet, unnoticed, and simply doing what they know needs to be done.  But they are there…loving when loving is the toughest.  And I couldn’t be more grateful for those that love like this.  My prayer is that God renews the strength of those that are caring for others.  May God hold up those that do not know if they can carry on.  May God fill these servants with peace.  May God wrap them with love.  And may God remind them that they are seen and we are grateful.

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  • Has it really been that long?

    The waters of baptism washed over me as I stood before the congregation I would serve, with my friend at my side and my father at the pulpit.  It is a day I will never forget.  The flood of memories overwhelm me like the feeling of the warm water.  I remember the gift of a study Bible, the people that laid hands on me to pray over me as I began this journey, the feeling of being loved.  On March 9, 2004, I was baptized by my friend Lynn Taylor and Ordained as a Baptist Minister, a service led by my father, Jerry Mitchell.

    There have been many days that I have questioned the calling, wondering if I heard incorrectly.  I have tried to do other things in the ministry.  I have felt like Job as I have walked away from the pulpit and thought that this was not for me.  But there have been many more days that I have been overwhelmed by God’s grace, mercy and forgiveness.  He has allowed me to walk with people in their journeys of celebration and grief.  I have sat at the table with people I now consider family.

    LaGrange First Missionary has always and will always hold a very special place in my heart and in the heart of my wife and children.  They took a chance on me when they could have chosen otherwise.  They loved me and accepted me and welcomed me into their lives.  They gave me grace when I messed up and walked with me through my own struggles.  I am forever grateful to God for giving me the privilege of serving this congregation…for I saw God in more ways that I can count as a result.

    I am grateful that God continued to be patient with me as I took a sabbatical.  I needed the time to breathe but that was difficult for my family.  I needed to be ministered to, but it is difficult to let go.  God worked through all of that in amazing ways.  He gave me the opportunity to complete a Master of Divinity degree at a school that taught me to think critically and love fiercely.  Campbell Divinity School was the right choice for me and I knew it from the first day I stepped on campus.  It was a place of learning and healing.

    I am grateful for Northeast FWB for allowing me to serve as an Interim.  It was a beautiful experience that gave me the chance to celebrate Advent and Christmas with a congregation that was welcoming and kind to this traveler.

    Today, I serve at Trinity Missionary Baptist.  Beginning as Interim, my intention was to remain interim.  God had other plans.  Four years ago, I accepted the interim position.  In July, I will have been the Pastor at Trinity for four years.  God directed and I did my best to be obedient.  I was hesitant, not because of Trinity but because of Brad.  I love with my everything but that doesn’t always reflect in the ways I serve.  I wasn’t sure I had enough to give Trinity.  I can say that Trinity has also been kind and gracious to me.  They have given me the opportunity to pursue my Doctor of Ministry degree.  They have supported the ways that I have felt God leading.  They have loved me despite me.  Together, we have become better.  I pray God continues to work in it all.

    As I write this, I am overwhelmed by the opportunity to serve God as a minister.  I cannot believe he chose to use me, but I am grateful he did.  I pray that I can continue to serve as he would have me to serve.  I pray that I will love as he teaches me to love.  I pray I can show others what it means to follow, no matter the cost.  I pray I can be his hands and feet.  15 years later, I say…”Lead on, God…Lead on.”

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  • I saw you…

    To my Dad…

    I saw you the other day at a funeral.  It was just a glimpse, barely caught your image as you walked by.  It took my breath for just a moment.  I wondered if I could continue with what I was saying…would the words continue to come without being able to take the next breath?  Your presence was felt, known, experienced.  It was as I feel the hot summer breeze…not really seeing but feeling the presence.  It is the first time in the last 3 years I have caught that glimpse.  It was not scary…but comforting.  It was right where I would expect to find you…at a graveside service.  Not because it happens to be the same cemetery that your body was laid to rest…but because it is a place you spent many hours providing words of comfort…stories of joy…love for a hurting family.  It was the place you have stood so many times and proclaimed the good news of God even as your time was drawing shorter.  It was the place you found yourself at home…doing what you loved…giving of yourself for others.  I am thankful for your passion that you lived out on those plots of land where so many loved ones find their final resting place.  I am grateful that you taught me that this is not a place of despair, but a place of hope.  It is a place where tears are shed but peace abounds…a place where families say “goodbye” and God says “welcome home.”  I do not step on those grounds without thinking of you and all you meant to so many when you walked those very same steps.  We carry on…but your presence is missed.  So today, I am thankful for just a glimpse of you.  I’m so glad I saw you at a funeral the other day.

  • Gift of Gratefulness

    I love the early mornings…when I sit in my living room, smell the fresh brewed coffee that calls out to me, listening only to the sound of the hum of the refrigerator and the ticking of the clock.  I think about the day…what is ahead…what needs to be done… Some days, it all seems too much and I just want to go back to bed.  I don’t want to go to that meeting or take care of that task…I don’t want to talk to anyone today…I just want to go back to bed and pull the covers over my head and call it good.  My mom always said that if you are in bed when the sun comes up, you are missing out on your day…wasting precious time.  I thought that was a bunch of bologna when I was growing up.  I was fairly sure she was just saying that so I would get started on the chores she wanted done.  Now her words actually ring true.  There are things to do…people to see…tasks to accomplish while the sun is up.  We are given this day as a gift.  Many days don’t feel much like gifts…they feel more like gag gifts…joke is on me.  But I think that is because I don’t really appreciate what I have been given.  I am reminded that those are the days I approach with a sort of smugness…like I deserve better…like I am not getting what I think I should…and it ends up being a wasted day that could have been appreciated.  But then I think…can’t I just go back to bed and appreciate that?!

    Over the past couple of months, a constant theme has been running through my life…I hear it in conversations…I see it in the pages of the books I read…I feel it in my life when I really sit and listen and pay attention…It is in the sound of the rain and in brightness of the sun…in the smell of coffee and in the stress of everyday life…it is in the sounds of my children’s voices…and in the quiet of the morning run…it keeps following me and reminding me and bringing me back… it is GRATEFULNESS.

    I’m fairly hard headed…stubborn…determined… whatever you want to call it.  So it takes hearing things over and over before it begins to sink in.  This idea of gratefulness is powerful, though.  I find that when I am grateful, I see things around me completely different.  When I am grateful, I may still want to pull the covers over my head – but I realize that in being grateful for the gift of this day…I have to move forward and see what joys and challenges are ahead.  I realize that even though there will be stressful moments and encounters I would rather not have, gratefulness reminds me that God is shaping me, strengthening me, and guiding me to something better.  Gratefulness reminds me that even when life is really tough and I just don’t feel like it…the gifts that I have been given are held in this day…and I don’t get this day again.  If I eat in gratefulness, I really appreciate the access to food that I have…if I exercise in gratefulness, I am not suffering – but growing and getting stronger through it all…if I do my job in gratefulness, I begin to understand that this is a gift that allows me to use my talents and give back from what I have been given…if I am grateful in this moment, I treasure the good and the bad – for I am becoming a little bit closer to that for which I was created.  As Mother’s Day is approaching…I realize how grateful I am for my mom and all of the wonderful women who have been such a powerful, influential part of my life…helping to shape and mold me.  What are you grateful for today?img_0623