Category Archives: Liturgical Faith

my story through the lens of the Church calendar

The Originating Force in My Advent

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If Advent is the season of preparedness, then there is no greater force of preparation in the life of a child than her parents. Whether for good or bad, hard or blessing, parents guide the development of not only your DNA but help shape your worldview.

I was born to a mother and father that longed for a child. I was born into extended family that valued togetherness and love and faith. From my earliest memory, I have been surrounded by a cloud of support and blessing. I say all of these things to declare that I am aware and appreciative of the fact that this is not offered to most children brought into the world.

When you are born into a picture of happiness, the world assumes that that every moment of every day looks like the Christmas card. Can we be honest? We were probably fighting 5 minutes before the picture was snapped. In our case, someone was complaining about the clothing choice or the temperature outside in July because we are in turtlenecks. There is a good chance that the ones standing next to each other are pinching or hitting each other between clicks of the camera. All in the most loving way, of course.

90% of the Norman Rockwell moments were just that. But there are those 10% moments. The ones that you can recall 35 years later and when you do, you are instantaneously transported to feelings of shame and guilt and unworthiness and worse. For me, these memories are defined by times when I perceived to be letting my mom and dad down. As I discussed yesterday, my wiring for perfection was paramount. There was nothing I wanted more than to make my parents proud.

As a child, this sets you up for automatic failure. There is no parent that can express enough love or extend enough favor to meet these unreasonable goals. And in the moments that my parents could not read my mind (because heck if I ever asked for what I needed) my unrealistic expectations were not met. From there, the spiral turned to resentment, followed by rebellion and crash landed on emotional distance.

Unlike the normal advent of the parent child/teen relationship, I never openly rebelled. I wasn’t sneaking out or drinking or using drugs. My teenage rebellion consisted of wild nights of church camp pranks and youth group lock-ins. The primary tool I used for parental avoidance was dismissive teen angst fueled with the magnificent ability to stuff my feelings to avoid all hard conversations. The years of my advent provided me with the erroneous understanding that as long as you cleaned up the surface, the world would never know the truth.

How did this mode of operation prepare me for life? Well, it worked until it didn’t. I would love to tell you that my relationship with my mom and dad has always been easy. But I have vowed to be honest and brave in this journey. The truth was that we all did the very best that we could with the skills that we had. Sometimes the road was rocky. Sometimes the pictures of perfection were masking some great pain. But most importantly in the season of Advent, we all survived. I was launched in into the birth of independence with the knowledge that I had a solid foundation when I was ready to do the hard work.

In Birth There is a Longing

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I was born on April 25, 1975. From all accounts, my entrance to the world
brought with it a middle of the night car ride, a clueless first time dad and mom who was thankful that her husband finally decided that indeed a hospital run was more important than sleep.  They had been waiting with excitement to be parents. Their plan had not gone according to their designed timing…you know waiting is the theme of Advent, right? And so on that exciting night, we became a family of 3.

I was a perfect first child. I was brilliant and picture worthy. I was the first grandchild on one side and the first girl on the other. Both set the stage for a plethora of dresses and bows and curlers and ruffles and dreams. Being in the prime of 70’s culture the photos also include velour and bell bottoms and big hair. I forgive you all.

I will share more about the individual players and personalities in the days to come, but the overriding theme of preparation that lays foundational groundwork for the advent of my life were the events of the next 3 years. As legend goes, my parents were encouraged by physicians to seize the success of my birth and try again soon if they desired a second child. And so, 15 months after my birth, my sister arrived. If that was not enough excitement for all, 18 months later my parents were surprised to be the proud co-creators of 3 children under the age of 3.

Take a moment and sit in solidarity for my mom. Praise the Lord that she survived.

I was in diapers. I was 32 months old and I was handed the reigns of BIGGEST Sister. While this makes a cute picture and a lovely cartoon, it played out over the next few decades as a developmental track for a bossy, driven, perfectionistic and overcritical developing brain. Out of shear survival insist, I was thrust into a “grown up” role of responsibility and rule following during a formational time of my life.

The advent of my coming of age was shaped by being the first and the pace setter. Two formative things played out during the preparation for adulthood. The first was that my sister and I were often defined by being a singular unit. Sure we were two people, but in friendships, in activities and in the world of zone parenting, we were the “girls” and we moved as a force. As I will explain further, this was the best and sometimes the worst. To this day, she is often my first line of defense against the world. But to a developing heart, there were times that I lost myself in our communal grouping. The second advent revelation was my early formed desire to allow my parents to take care of the “little” ones because I COULD DO IT MYSELF. I’m quite confident that I expressed that passion in all ways including my voice and tone.

I was the strong headed bull Taurus that come hell or high water was going to make MY way THE way. I can vividly remember throwing my siblings under the trouble bus before they could even speak in favor of my dominance. I can remember the many times that my mom and I would lock heads in conflict and at the same time get each other better than most, because let’s be honest I’m a wonderful, gifted, creative mini-Lyn.

I need you to know these insights as we begin this journey because for better and for worse, they will be common threads in my life. What was developed in this formational waiting season laid the groundwork for big successes and desperate failures. As with any formational traits, they can be used for glory and distorted in moments of great pain.

May this reminder be a beacon to each of us to longingly call on the themes of advent: hope, peace, joy and love as we develop and draw towards the Creator and Creation.

What is Advent?

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It is only right that we start the year with waiting. What?

That’s right. The first day of the liturgical year is 4 Sundays prior to December 25th and it this season is called Advent. In case you are already confused, let’s simplify. The first day of the church new year is usually in November, not January 1st, as the calendar on the wall would say. And we begin with waiting.

Advent, as a season, is the balance of celebratory anticipation. As we celebrate the season, we are reminded of the Old Testament longing for the desperation for and the revelation of a Savior in Jesus. At the same time, we long for the return of Christ in the age to come. Its both, reflection and longing. Advent is a period of preparation, of tempered longing, but not of penance. Advent at its core is a season of joy.

So what do we do about the context of our modern world and the insanity that ensues this time of year? Let me go out on a limb and say that there is NOTHING about the worldly context of holiday celebration that is expectant and tempered and anticipatory. Matter of fact, some of the crazy can already be found in the aisles of craft stores. Merry Christmas…in August!

Before we go any further, you must know this about me. I LOVE the Christmas season. I love the build up and thoughtful gifts and generous outpouring of hope. I come from a family that has woven the love of celebration deep in my bones and heart and internal clock. But as an adult, the soul tending season of Advent as taken root and defined my context of celebration. I have no patience for those that sing “Joy to the World” on December 7th, because we NEED to learn to wait. We can celebrate, but to fully embrace the significance of the Christ Child, we need to place our heart (if not our decor) in a place of longing.

So, we enter the year with waiting. If you have ever had a season where the road was not clear or the outcome was not quickly revealed or the answer you longed for was not immediately given, you know about waiting. In the midst of it, it can be heartbreaking and hard. But for those that have waited and walked to the other side, you know that waiting is often our time of spiritual growth. For me, the advents of life are the times when my character is formed and my spirit matures.

Happy New Year!12311052_10205937463811754_6003547740898777245_n

The Gift of Friendship

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I stepped foot on the Baylor campus with wide eyes and big dreams. I was the fourth generation to dawn the Green and Gold in my family and it was exciting to be a part of the legacy while forging my own path. Going pot luck for a roommate and immediately trying to distance myself from the patterns of high school, I wanted so badly to have the full college experience.

Having never been to a party with alcohol and never sneaking out or missing curfew, I was curious. Baylor is a Baptist university. When I arrived on campus in 1993, I lived in an all girls dorm that allowed co-ed visitation on Saturdays and Sundays from 1-6 pm. Until my junior year, there was no dancing on campus. By the world’s standards, we were far from a “normal” college experience. Having never tasted the life of a rebel, I found spontaneous trips to Dallas, late night pizza runs and dorm prank wars to be so entertaining. We had neighbors on our dorm hall that seemed to find another side of life on our very conservative campus. I can remember the first time I had to assist with post-party clean up. As one person purged their stomach in the sink, we were called to help a non-authorized visitor escape from our dorm. This was scandalous. And, I was so intrigued.

It was my intention to enter sorority rush after the Christmas break. Unfortunately my excitement to stay up late and learn about this great new thing called e-mail consumed more of my first semester than studying. I found myself on academic probation and unqualified for rush. I went back to campus with the firm desire to make grades. I spent most of the second semester watching my friends pledge sororities. With all of the parties and t-shirts and fun being had, I was more determined than ever to rush in the fall.

The best part of my freshman year was the foundation of independence that I forged. For the first time in my life, I was on my own. I had to make my own friends. I had no siblings or church group to fall back on. I chose to be a part of a Sunday night dinner group with a few others that had similar faith journeys. Each week, we would go to dinner at the home of a local woman who mothered and loved and encouraged us. What began in that living room is one of the truest friendships I know in life.

While we did not spend every waking moment together in our first year, we found our common lane. I can remember meeting her in my first days of college life and thinking to myself that she was beautiful and fun and full of life. I was immediately intimidated and sure that we would have nothing in common. She had long blond hair and I saw that hanging with her meant laughter and faith and stories and plenty of interested boys and Jesus. Yes, all of those things can go together, and in totality, it was the base of a sisterhood that would walk with me through the best and worst days ahead.We both came from families that loved Jesus and valued each other.

In our first conversations, I can remember thinking that she had something that I needed more of in my life. As our friendship grew, I knew what it was. She was real. She was the kind of friend that didn’t sugarcoat the chaos and at the same time, she refused to let my negative Nelly attitude devour a good time. She was going to stretch me to meet people and engage and walk down new paths, all with the grounding of a solid foundation. So in the fullness of celebration and joy, we jumped headlong into one of the best seasons of my life, together.

On a side, yet very vital note, this same friend is on the “do not pass go, do not have a crisis, do not have a celebration without calling her” list 24 years later. If you are lucky enough to have a friend that has seen you though college and dating and engagement and marriage and children and is now navigating ministry and raising teenagers with you, blessed does not even begin to cut it. When life falls apart or requires a costume, I know who to call.

100 Day Journey

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You should write a book.

Somehow that seems like the thing to say to people that write. When I hit publish on first blog post, the fear was overwhelming. What if it sounds stupid? What if no one thinks I am funny? What if I am the only person that reads this?

Just like anything else in my world, I have come to the place where I understand that my writing will reach the places and people that it supposed to reach. I know that for some postings, the intended audience is myself. What I needed was the encouragement to put words to thoughts and feelings and then let it go. So, I have.

But this thought of a book has been mulling in my mind space. I had an idea. I had a vision. Should I do it? Here’s the truth – maybe there is a book in me somewhere, but I have decided to share my vision in the context of my blog. I am constantly amazed by people’s love to create. I am fortunate enough to be surrounded by dedicated creators and life-learners. Some of my favorites are participating in a 100 day challenge beginning on Monday, August 14th. Want to join? There are artist, dreamers, students of prayer and meditation and yes, this writer. Daily, from August 14 -November 21, I will be sharing this space with you as I unpack something I am calling Liturgical Faith.

There are two things I know about my life:

1. It is a story full of journey.

2. It is rhythmically continual.

We all understand that with each passing 365 day cycle, we begin again. This is true of the church calendar, as well. In each year, we look to the seasons for the consistent pattern of progress. Unlike the calendar on your phone or your wall, the church calendar usually begins in late November with a season known as Advent. From there, we celebrate Christmas and Epiphany followed by ordinary time. We then continue with Ash Wednesday, which points us to the season of Lent. There are significant days that lead to Easter that include Holy Thursday, Good Friday, The Easter Vigil and Resurrection Sunday. But did you know that Easter is 50 days? You will learn more! Easter is completed on Pentecost and then we return again to ordinary time. For those that are already lost, you have 100 days and specific explanations to fill you in on the meaning and significance of each of these seasons.

My 42 trips through the 365 day calendar have given me appreciation for the changing but predictable rhythms of my spiritual life. I have spent time planning these 100 days of writing while praying that the stories will encourage you and the connection to our faith history will engage you. More than anything, I pray that you will be motivated to see YOUR story as God’s great story. If there are spaces and seasons that you connect with, let me know. If there are stories that are your stories, be brave enough to say, “ME TOO!”

One of the things that I know for sure is that we are better together. I don’t think that the mode matters, so in this season I will forgo the book for the journey of a daily blog. Perhaps in this 100 day journey we will find each other more connected, more filled and more aware that this world is not without a great Hope.