On Joseph and Trying to Catch Up

I love Mary. Mother of Jesus, Mary.

Seriously.

My youngest daughter’s name is Mary.

Mary is awesome (well, both of them).

But often, hers is not the story in the birth accounts of Jesus with which I most connect.

Joseph.

Joseph is where it’s at.

Have you ever heard the phrase, “It’s easier to ask for forgiveness than permission”?

I hate the line. Despite the fact that’s how I got to choose paint colors for my room when I was in high school and we lived in a parsonage. So there’s that.

But if you’ve ever been the one asked for forgiveness when someone could have asked permission, you know how much it stinks to be on that end of things.

I often think about that when I read the birth narratives.

The angel comes to Mary with this incredible and daring message. I don’t want to diminish at all her response. It is powerful. And faithful. And a great example for all of us.

But then there’s Joseph.

By the time God sends an angel to Joseph the entire store is set in motion. Mary’s gotten her angel. Mary is pregnant. She has told Joseph. Joseph, in a move of great graciousness, has decided to break his engagement with Mary quietly. Scripture tells us he is a righteous man. So I am sure he knew that she was due quite severe treatment for getting pregnant out of wedlock—and not by her fiancé. But Joseph also knew something about righteousness—that it is about being in line with God. And sometimes being in line with God means faithfulness to something greater than religious laws.

God is, after all, bigger than even the most religious folks’ attempt to codify God.

Joseph decides to break the engagement quietly because even if Mary has told him the angel’s message, who would believe her?! Joseph is not a fool.

THEN. Only then, does God send an angel to Joseph.

The ship has sailed.

The train has left the station.

Joseph is kind of asked for forgiveness rather than permission.

Mary gets to utter those powerful and faithful words, “Let it be with me as you have said.”

Joseph is just trying to catch up.

We don’t know very much about Joseph but I think we figure, from what little scripture says as well as our notions about fathers, that he was a good man and a good father. Think “Leave It to Beaver” or Danny Tanner or Jason Seaver kind of good father.

Like those fictional fathers, Joseph is often just a one dimensional person to us.

You just know there is so much more though.

Think of it: Here’s this young man who is about to marry a girl from the village. Mary has to have been a pretty awesome woman—after all, God choose her to bear Jesus. This is an exciting time for Joseph, I imagine.

Then the bottom drops out.

I can only imagine the deep disappointment and devastation Joseph must have been feeling. The kind that makes most people want to make others hurt as much as they do. Maybe Joseph felt that way. Maybe he didn’t. He at least didn’t act out of it.

I think often the testimony of our character isn’t so much how we feel, but how we act out of those feelings.

And there’s Joseph, just trying to catch up.

I feel more like that most of the time than I do feel like Mary.

Just trying to keep up with what life has brought. Trying to catch up with what God is doing.

Sometimes not doing particularly well at either.

Occasionally I’ve had times where I’ve responded to God with those words, “Let it be.” About to take on some new task of season, I look ahead with hope and excitement. Ready. 

But most of the time, like Joseph, I take a deep breath and try to get on with it. Figure out what being faithful and righteous means in the face of what is already unfolding.

So this year, like most, I will relish in the words of the Gospels about Mary and her faithful response. But I will pay particular attention to Joseph’s part. Joseph’s righteousness and faithfulness and willingness to let it be. Even if he, like me, was mostly just trying to catch up with what God was doing.

And you know what? That’s enough. Just trying to catch up with God is enough. Enough for God to use you to do incredible things. Enough to bring blessing into your life and to help you share God’s blessings with others.

Thanks be to God.

On Taking Good Advice

I decided to tackle a sewing project this fall: sewing two tree skirts—one for our girls’ small artificial tree and one for our main family tree.

This is a project I’ve had in mind for a while. Most years I use fabric under our tree. Because—have you seen the price of tree skirts? Sheesh!

I’m also really picky.

I’m not a terribly skilled quilter or seamstress though, so it took a while to find the right pattern.

It also took a bit to get back to it. My brother Dan had borrowed my sewing machine and cutting mat a couple months before he died. I rescued the sewing machine from his house, but I don’t remember what came of the mat. It took a couple years of intermittent interest on my part just to get the machine—a very basic one—working reliably again.

But…I found a pattern I thought I could manage. Bought the fabric. Got a new mat. And got to it.

Cutting and piecing it was the easy part.

Next I had to actually assemble the layers and quilt it.

I stalled there a few days.

But then…perfect timing…Debbie, who works in our bishop’s office and more importantly, owns and runs a quilting store, was coming out to camp with a group.

As you can imagine, I waited for my chance and then asked for a couple of minutes of her time and showed her the pieced top for the girls’ tree skirt.

Debbie read the project and me pretty quickly. I hardly said much before Debbie began explaining how to sequence the layers of fabric and batting. She asked what my machine could do, then gave simple and clear suggestions for how to quilt it. Gave a few pro tips from her own project experience. This was expert level stuff, folks.

Now, you’d think I’d have the good sense to do just what she said.

I asked a couple questions partly due to the fact that the pattern instructions were different for finishing the quilt—and required me to use quilt binding on a hexagon.

How hard could that be?

Pretty darn hard, as it turns out. Which is why Debbie had suggested a different way of finishing the skirts.

And you know what?

I didn’t listen.

I thought, “Well, yeah, but I’m gonna follow the instructions.” (Which is ironic because part of my sewing issues is my frustration following instructions exactly.)

Fortunately I attempted finishing the girls’ tree skirt first.

Which is really good.

Because I mangled it.

I’ve used binding on maybe 4 projects before.

I should never have attempted to do it on the skirt.

Debbie was right.

I managed to finish the girls’ tree skirt. But please, if you’re ever at my house, don’t look at the bottom of it. Please. You will think less of me. ;-)

A couple days later I had a chance to work on the main tree skirt. And do exactly what Debbie told me. Exactly.

And you know what?

Yep. You guessed it.

She was totally right.

I’ve been really struck by this lesson since. Not so much about the binding (though really, I hate quilt binding…I’d forgotten how much I hate it) but the lesson about how we often don’t take the advice we really should. Even when we’re the ones who ask someone for their advice—someone we know who really does know what they’re talking about—we too easily think we still know better. Or we can’t do what is advised.

I read once that only something like 1 in 8 people who are at risk for (or already have) heart issues will follow their doctor’s advice about eating healthier, exercising more, and making other important life changes.

Ain’t that the truth.

I mean, think of it: when was the last time you heard advice from someone (who actually know what they were talking about—not random people who just like to tell you what to do) but didn’t take it? Why was that?

Earlier in ministry, I was talking with more experienced clergy colleagues about some difficult conversations and tense situations—ones which were very exhausting and draining for me but which my attempts to remain present in weren’t changing. One asked me, “Why do you keep allowing yourself to have to keep listening to the same stuff over and over? It doesn’t sound like it’s helping. Just move on.”

It hadn’t occurred to me, I must admit, to just leave it be. And it took time to really take that advice. Still does sometimes. But they were right. I just needed to take their advice.

I am confident there is something in your life you have (or should) sought the advice and guidance of those who have been through a similar situation, someone trained by experience and opportunity to give you the direction you need.

Listen.

Then do it.

Just do it.

Oh, and don’t try to using binding on a hexagon. Just don’t.

Brokenness, Addiction, and Searching for Light and Hope

Tis the season of joy and celebration, right?

And brokenness.

Yep. This is when we must muster our best tools to ignore the pain around us. Because for all the peace and happiness, this Christmas season is also one that sheds light…light on the places in our lives and relationships we’ve spent the rest of the year politely tucking away.

Those family members and friends we’ve gently (or not so gently) ignored? Yep. Right in our faces now. Trying to resist the urge to buy them passive aggressive gifts. Or declare our righteous indignation at whatever despicable view or practice they’ve somehow harmed us or the world with this year.

Joy and celebration.

Ha.

What’s more, this is the season that same brokenness pours out onto our streets.

In the West Virginia panhandle, as in many other areas…too many other areas…you can’t honestly speak about our brokenness without naming the epidemic of opioid addiction tearing about lives, families and communities.

It is painful. And difficult.

We want it to stop, but we seem as powerless to stop it as the addicts themselves. We wrestle with the intersection of the responsibility we each have over our lives and decisions versus the powerlessness addicts face in their dependency. We criminalize addictions to some drugs while this time of year celebrating the actual biggest and most debilitating addiction in our communities and lives: alcohol. We’re a hot mess. But we’re darn well convinced our mess is someone else’s problem.

Yep, ironically, even as we protest other people’s lack of taking ownership of their own lives, we cast aside our own responsibility to ourselves and each other.

Yesterday I attended the monthly Berkeley County Ministerial Association meeting, where we heard a presentation from Kevin Knowles, Berkeley County’s Community Recovery Services Coordinator. He shared a host of information and statistics about addiction in our community.

Summary: drug addiction is a problem that is growing. And the costs are staggering: in addition to the crimes associated with drug use, in just the most extreme cases—overdoses—the cost to the taxpayers is around $1200 per emergency call. Over the past year in Berkeley County, that’s inching up towards half a million dollars.

We have the ability through tools like NARCAN, to bring addicts back from the brink of death. This is, however, an ability which challenges us. Because when you’re not an addict, you would think one such instance would scare you sober. But addiction defies logic. And good sense.

Addiction is a disease. It has consequences across the board—for bodies, relationships, communities, you name it. All addiction.

Did I mention alcohol?

During Kevin’s presentation, he shared a video of first person account which was from what I’m assuming was a sermon at The Living Room (a church in Martinsburg). The woman described her progression into addiction (and the falling apart of her life), starting with prescription pain pills. She explained that part of her sobriety was understanding that certain emotions (sadness, stress, etc.) are normal parts of life.

So where do we begin?

I’ve only scratched the surface of topics related to the drug epidemic. Clearly, there are crises in our lives and communities which are precursors to drug addiction.

How do we face the disappointments and brokenness of life?

How do we balance immediate relief vs. long term health?

When are medications the best treatment?

When are lifestyle changes needed?

Several years ago I read a powerful book, Autobiography of a Recovering Skinhead. It’s a powerful read for so many reasons. One small piece that really jumped out at me though was when he talks about how he finally got on a solid path to sobriety (the connection between his hate-filled past and his addictions is itself eye-opening). He shares that living in a sober house where he was required to take care of basic things, like making his bed each day, gave him the necessary structure (and eventually self-confidence) to begin to make even bigger and lasting changes.

I finished that book reminded that sometimes the most important steps are the smallest ones.

I am reminded of a Steven Curtis Chapman song I came across recently, Take Another Step.

If you are currently struggling in the face of pain and brokenness, overwhelmed by all that you cannot control, please know you are not alone. There is help. And no choice need be your last one. Take one step. One thing you can do to care for yourself well. Do that one thing now. Just that one thing. Talk to someone. Schedule that appointment with your doctor. Drink a glass of water. Take a nap. Eat a healthy, balanced meal. Take a walk. Take another step.

Recently, I was part of a discussion with some of our members at Arden about finding ways to help make a real impact on our community—and doing so in a way that works, not just doing stuff. I’m excited to see where these discussions lead.

I am going to be sharing more with you about what I’ve learned and am learning about our community, and how we can make meaningful and effective change happen. How we can be part of bringing healing and wholeness.

Kingdom work.

I invite you to do the same. To start, I invite you add discernment (for yourself and our congregation) to your prayers. Next, listen. Read. Learn as much as you can about how addiction unfolds in a person’s life. And what works to prevent or short-circuit it. If you have personal experiences, share with me or others who are trying to find solutions.

May the God of light lead us along a path where we might see clearly the way to move into health ourselves, and how to lead others into the same.

If you or someone you know is in need of support for mental health and addiction issues in West Virginia, call or text 1-844-HELP4WV (1-844-435-7498) or visit www.HELP4WV.com


If you are in Maryland, visit http://www.mdcsl.org/avjsc/csl_hotlines_ci.asp or call 211.