Doing the Pee Pee Dance on South Lawn

Let me begin by saying, this particular e-letter is not for the faint of heart. The subject after all is “doing the pee pee dance.” But I am a firm believer that everything teaches, and I will use anything to tell students about Jesus. Nothing is off limits. So here goes . . . .

I have a urinary tract infection. The pain comes and goes, but when it comes, it is brutal. The feeling I described to my doctor is like peeing razor blades. Not fun. Thankfully he gave me some antibiotics and a purple pill I’m supposed to take 4 times a day, with a lovely side effect of turning urine blue. I got kind of tickled this morning when my sweet husband Tim says to me, “It looks like a smurf broke into our house in the middle of the night and used our toilet.” Precious.

So yesterday I was on South Lawn with our prayer labyrinth. We got to participate once again in “Stresstivus” which is sponsored by WKU’s Health Services. I love participating every year since it invites students who wouldn’t go to church to experience Jesus and prayer in a meaningful way. But because I was hurting and had to go to the bathroom every 45 minutes, there was a big part of me that just really did not want to be there. Campus outreach projects are some of my favorite things in the whole world. I mean, that is when I am an over-the-top fool for Christ. For example, during our Easter Egg give-away I put on a Sunflower headband. It looked like I had yellow petals sprouting from my head. (I would have worn the pink bunny ears, but they clashed with my t-shirt.) I love sharing the love of Jesus with random people in inviting, winsome, and often wacky ways. So it was a bit disconcerting to be on campus sharing Jesus and not quite having the heart for it.

Here is the thing. We had more people walk our prayer labyrinth than ever before, and I even got to have some really cool conversations. Each person who participated received a mosaic tile as a reminder of their experience, along with a corresponding bookmark with scripture and reflection questions on it. These were given as a way for the experience to speak deeply to their lives in the areas of transformation, experiencing a heart of peace, or learning to live like “lilies of the field,” without worry. We had a great response.

And the whole experience was a real lesson for me. The scripture that comes to mind is from 2 Corinthians 12:9: “But [the Lord] said to me, ‘My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness.’” Most of the time, I live my life as if the whole world relies upon my strength. I am fully aware on many occasions that God’s presence and power under-gird me in ways I cannot comprehend, but I also feel weight of responsibility so heavily. I know that there are people depending on me. While I am so aware of my limitations (and mostly because of my limitations), I just feel like I can’t afford to not give all that I am to everything I do. It’s like I believe that if something significant is going to get done, I have to make it happen. Well yesterday my maker was not up to making things happen. My maker was simply making me have to go pee all the time, praying that sometime soon the pain would stop. Yet in the middle of all that God my Maker showed up.

Yesterday I was reminded in a powerful way that God is not dependent upon me to do His thing. He can do His thing whenever and wherever He wants. He can move with the power of a mighty wind whether I am feeling up to it or not. I guess what I am trying to say is that I don’t have to be my best in order for Him to be His best. Marvelous happens on His time schedule, regardless of what is happing in mine. I’m so thankful. So I guess the moral of this little confession is that God helps those who cannot help themselves. He does His best work when we cannot work at all. Thank God. I’m just hoping someone else needed to hear that as much as me, because I feel kind of silly having to confess to and repent of my own self-sufficiency. So there you go. Praise the Lord. Oh, and by the way, the razor blades are gone. Praise God!

This is me trusting,

Sami

Common Beauty, Uncommon Love

It is spring time and dandelions are everywhere. Have you ever thought about the difference between dandelions and potted plants? One is common; it grows at will, wild and un-tame. Very ordinary, and in its abundance very obscure. One is cultivated; it’s growth is precarious, needing time and attention. It grows through intention, needing specific care to be sustained. It is special, specially placed, and specially noticed. I am a dandelion girl, growing wherever I will, wild and un-tame. Thoroughly common.

A few years ago I noticed a set of dishes in a department store sporting pictures of various wild growing flowers, usually considered weeds. The dandelion was just one of four common flowers that graced the front of that particular china pattern. I loved it. I loved that an expensive set of porcelain captured the loveliness of the ordinary, elevating it to the ranks of beautiful, as these un-common dishes sat beside the more common stacks of rose painted plates. It gave me the courage to notice the beauty in what is often overlooked, simply because it is so abundant.

Obviously Someone is cultivating the common. I believe it is God. God loves dandelions, and there was a time when we did too. I remember as a girl making numerous bracelets, necklaces and crowns out of the yellow blooms, stringing each flexible green stem through the next until there was a chain. I remember the fascination and joy of watching the white dandelion seeds being lifted by the wind as I blew upon their fuzzy heads. In that innocence of youth, dandelions were still flowers, not yet weeds, and still an object of beauty instead of an aggravating nuisance. Whatever happened to our uncommon love for common beauty?

I think it is because our culture has trained us to think that only unordinary things are worthy of notice, that life at its heart is a competition for VIP status. Only the rare and very important things and people matter. What is common is undesirable, unnoticed, unworthy. Understated is uninteresting. Our culture tells us that if we want to be successful, marketable, and have value we must be over-the-top, bigger and better than everyone else. Survival means setting ourselves apart. Even if it hurts others around us, grabbing that status is everything. And once we are deemed worthy of attention, we have to work even harder to stay that way. In the college scene it means belonging to the best organizations, making the best grades, establishing the best reputation, enjoying all the right contacts, gaining the most achievements, growing the best resume. And ordinary is just not good enough. Only outstanding will do. You future happiness and well-being depends on it. Sound exhausting?

As a teenager and young adult, I used to see people (namely myself) in those same terms, believing that the category of beautiful applied to pageant winners, the “in” crowd, and people with power and prestige. Beauty, or worth, I felt, was only reserved for those who were “special.” So I tried my hardest to be as special as I could, making the best grades I could, being as acceptable as I could, pleasing the most people I could, gaining all the success I could. And when I couldn’t live up to those standards, my world came apart. The Lord patiently put me back together again. Somehow I learned along the way that I had to make peace with my ordinariness. Then I began to discover God’s grace that creates and loves the ordinary, naming and claming that which the world does not. His purposes for such ordinary things surely outshine worldly efforts at greatness. And just like we cannot stop the dandelions from filling our yards, neither can the world’s demands for extraordinary deny the power of an ordinary life lived through simple trust in the Lord.

I love these words from scripture: “Consider the lilies, how they grow: they neither toil nor spin, yet I tell you, even Solomon in all his glory was not clothed like one of these. But if God so clothes the grass of the field, which is alive today and tomorrow is thrown into the oven, how much more will he clothe you—you of little faith! And do not keep striving for what you are to eat and what you are to drink, and do not keep worrying. For it is the nations of the world that strive after all these things, and your Father knows that you need them. Instead, strive for his kingdom, and these things will be given to you as well” (Luke 12:27-31). It is almost as if I can hear God saying, “Have you looked at any dandelions lately? Did you ever think about why they grow so abundantly when you do absolutely nothing to make them do that, when you even try to inhibit their growth? Don’t you think if I can make dandelions grow so beautifully, I can take care of you too? So why do you think your well-being depends on effort you cannot possibly give? Stop trying to do My job! Instead, why don’t you just try to be the blessing I created you to be? So you are a dandelion in the great garden of life. I made so many because I love them so much. You are so beautiful to Me; just be what I made you to be!”

Don’t get me wrong. Potted plants are nice, but at the end of the day, they too are just plants, no better or worse than the ordinary dandelion. God creates each bloom with such exquisite detail and care, tending to the needs of each flower’s life with sustenance we can only guess at. Surely if God cares enough to give life to dandelions He also cares about us as well. And even in our ordinariness we can trust Him to have a plan and purpose that not only sustains us with mercy, but reveals His glory to those all around.

This is me trusting,

Sami

Walk by Faith

Last weekend eight students and I went to Camp Loucon for our Spring Retreat. It was awesome, and amazing, and it rocked our world! Woo Hoo!!!! Can you tell I had a great time? It was everything we needed it to be and more. The theme of our weekend was the twenty third Psalm; together we considered the many ways that God shepherds our lives. What I love about God is that He always speaks His message to us in several ways, through many mediums. I especially experienced this when it came time for us to do low elements.

We began our low element activities with our facilitator instructing us to get into pairs, handing out bandanas, and asking a person from each pair to be blindfolded. It was then the responsibility of the “seeing” person to guide the blindfolded one along a path set by our facilitator, using only her or his voice. The guides were not allowed to touch those being led; they could only tell them how to walk the path in their blindness. Sound familiar? Doesn’t it sound like following God’s lead when we cannot see Him or touch Him? I believe it is a perfect metaphor for faith—God, who knows all and sees all, tells us with hints and nudges how to walk through life in our blindness. And while we have the guidance of scripture and the camaraderie of a community of believers, in specific details we can only guess at what our best decisions are: we cannot see the future, we cannot possibly know outcomes or consequences, and we are clueless in regard to the intentions and decisions of others. We’re not even that good at predicting the weather, even though we try really hard.

It can be really disorienting. Like being blindfolded and asked to walk a path that may or may not be on the road. Because we had an odd number, I got paired up with both Derek and Tyler. We each got a turn to be the guide to two blind people and each of us got to be led around in the dark. I would much prefer to be blindfolded any day. Kind of like, I would hate to have God’s job. And both of my guides did a great job! It was so cool to see how each approached the task of guiding their charges to safety. Derek had a keen sense of description. I knew exactly what the terrain was at all times and exactly how best to approach it. Tyler lead with his own feet, making as much noise as he could by scraping and dragging that we always knew where his feet were and could simply follow their sound in addition to his specific vocal cues. I have often said before that the life of faith is like this. As we come to know the Lord, we each develop a language with Him. Thus He speaks to each of us in a way that is unique to the relationship we have with Him. Of course He does this; His loves each of us personally and specifically. What I found with each of my guides is that after a while I could relax; the pattern of our communication, their leading and my following, eventually became almost like sight. Familiarity opened up our trust.

And then we came to a point when Tyler said, “I don’t know what to say. We’re not changing direction or anything. Just keep following the sound of my feet.” And then I started to panic. My first impulse was to scream, “I don’t care what the road is doing, just keep talking!” I couldn’t see after all. I just kept thinking, “Don’t take away your voice too!” But then I found that, in fact, the road was fairly easy, and I didn’t need extra instruction, and the sound of his feet was so reliable I didn’t even need His voice. And then it struck me: “God this is so like you!” Isn’t it? Haven’t you found yourself trying to follow God and He suddenly becomes very quiet? All the ways that you used to sense Him speaking have dried up. The only thing you can do is to go on what you know about Him, and hope it will all turn out alright. And it will. In that moment of my uncertainty and panic it was as if I heard God say to my spirit, “You don’t have to worry when I am silent, Sami. Those are simply the times when my last bit of direction is totally sufficient. Just keep doing what you are doing and trust me to give you new insight when you need it.” In Tyler’s words I heard the sound of my Lord: “We’re not changing direction or anything. Just keep following the sound of My feet.”

This Sunday we will be going to Elizabethtown to share our outreach ministry with the home church of some of our students. One of the songs we are singing this year is “Walk By Faith” by Jeremy Camp. The chorus goes like this: “Oh I will walk by faith, even though I cannot see. Because this broken road prepares Your will for me.” In our walk with Jesus, there will often be times of clarity and brilliant insight, but more often than not, there will be times of guessing and hoping, trusting and blind obeying. It is in those times that our faith grows the most and we develop a keener understanding of Who God is in our lives, and who we are in His. I want to encourage you, dear one. If you are in one of those silent times when your faith is being stretched, know that you are still in God’s sights even when He is not in yours. You can trust Him to get you safely home. And also know, if you were not ready to trust Him more, he never would have led you to where you are now. Be blessed on the path you follow. He is always, and still, shepherding you.

This is me trusting,

Sami

Dream a Better Dream

Long before Susan Boyle made it famous, I sang “I Dreamed a Dream” for Senior Night the year I graduated from High School. Absolutely love the song. But it sure is sad. From the musical Les Miserables it tells the story of a woman, Fantine, who loved and lost, who naively gave her heart away and found it returned to her in pieces. Yet sadder still, such a brief taste of love ultimately left her stranded and alone with a child she could not support. In the end, she dies a broken woman who had sold herself in order to keep her child alive. The closing lyrics to the song say it all: “I had a dream my life would be, so different from this hell I’m living; so different now from what it seemed, now life has killed the dream I dreamed.”

This could be the life song of so many people. We start out in one direction, full of hope and expectancy, and then, for all kinds of reasons, things go in a direction we did not choose and cannot seem to change. Even for college students, whose lives are filled with promise and possibility, this is still true. Maybe it was the scholarship that didn’t come true, the acceptance letter that never came, the relationship that didn’t work out, the mistake that never goes away. Life has failed us somehow, and we stand confused, holding the pieces of our hearts in our hands. We keep telling ourselves sentences that begin with the words, “If only . . . .” We want to go back in time, choose differently, turn things around. We long for this opportunity, yet we are a million miles away from fulfilling it. I have been there. And so had Mary of Bethany, friend and disciple of Jesus.

We first meet Mary sitting at the Lord’s feet while He visits in her home; she is listening to Him, learning from Him. Martha interrupts, insisting that Mary assist her in the work of hospitality; Jesus simply says that Mary’s devotion will not be taken from her—she is right where she needs to be. I love the sense of intimacy that permeates the story. Of course his boy disciples are there, Peter, James, John, etc. Of course Martha is hurrying and scurrying. Of course it is a scene full of tension as Martha “subtly” makes her frustration clear before saying anything, while Peter and the crew wonder what is so special about this “girl” who gets to sit with them, hear what they hear, learn what they learn. The haughty sighs and grumpy harrumphs are the audible subtext of the story; not everyone agrees that Mary is right where she needs to be. But Jesus doesn’t care. And Mary doesn’t seem to either. For them, they might as well be the only two in the room, a woman loving the Lord with her whole self: mind, heart, strength, and soul. It is a beautiful picture of what Jesus invites us to: Intimacy unscathed by the chaos surrounding it.

And so when Mary’s beloved brother dies, her devastation is clear. She knows He could have kept it from happening. She knows Him, yet she doesn’t understand Him. Her anguished words echo this paradox of faith and floundering: “Lord, if you had been here, my brother would not have died.” The subtext here is the un-asked question, “Lord, why did You not come?” I hear in her words the same anguish voiced by Fantine: “I had a dream my life would be, so different from this hell I’m living.” Mary had a different dream for her life too. And now she is caught in circumstances she could neither foresee nor change: she had trusted Jesus implicitly, opened her heart to Him completely, entrusted Him with the vulnerability of real belief, and Jesus failed to show up when she asked Him too. She is really devastated. Seeing her so, Jesus cannot help but respond to her grief: “When he saw her weeping, and the Jews who came with her also weeping, he was greatly disturbed in spirit and deeply moved” (John 11:33). Jesus grieves with her. I believe He even grieves for her.

But her tears (and He knew she would have them) do not have the power to change His plans, plans that she could not understand or grasp. In a way I love this. Bizarre as it sounds, I love that He does not give in to my grief. It comforts me to know that He grieves with and for me—it is so like Him; He is compassion. But to give in to our hopes, even those that are good, is to do us a grave dis-service when He has something so much better for us in mind. For Mary Jesus’ intention was better than simply making her brother well. His intention was to bring the dead to life, to do what only He could do. While it is true that life often kills our dreams, Jesus invites us to dream better ones. He invites us to bring to Him our shattered and broken dreams, especially those that are beyond repair, because in the place of their death, He intends to bring life. In the places of our greatest devestation new hope is born, where and when we least expect it. It may not look like what we expect, but we can trust that it will look like something only He can do, far beyond what we can ask or imagine. Jesus looks at the tomb of Mary’s brother, and cries with a loud voice, “Lazurus, come out! (John 11:43). This is my Easter message: He doesn’t just bring resurrection, He is the resurrection. In the middle of our brokenness, He invites us to wait for His gift of new life. Be courageous enough to dream a better dream with me.

This is me trusting,

Sami

Fruit Basket Turnover--Wesley Foundation E-Letter (Methodist Campus Ministry)

Hello All!  Hope you have had a chance to enjoy this beautiful weather outside!  It is truly a blessing!  Vitamin D—Woo Hoo!!!!  Here is what is going on this week:

 

TONIGHT:  A special service at 6:30pm in our Chapel in honor of Holy Week.  Come and experience what God has to say to us through the final moments of Jesus’s life on earth. 

 

THURSDAY:  Free meal & program, 6:30pm.  We will be having and Easter Egg Hunt!  Yes!!  This is your opportunity to relive the childhood dream! 

 

EASTER EGG GIVE-AWAY ON SOUTH LAWN:  We will be doing this on Thursday from 11-4.  This is a change from Wednesday!  Each egg will have a piece of candy as well as one of about 15 different scripture verses folded inside.  This is an opportunity for us to be vessels of God’s grace for random students who walk by.  So join me as we share the hope of Easter in a tangible way with students on campus.

 

Now For Sami’s Ramblings About Jesus:

 

The last few weeks I have been mulling over a verse in scripture.  It has been simmering on the back burner of my mind, occasionally piercing my awareness, connecting with my inner longing for grounded-ness and a sense of being settled.  I have been told by friends that this internal angst is directly related to hormones that are still adjusting after having a baby.  I feel more myself now, but those moments when I’m lost in the hormonal shuffle seem like all my thoughts, feelings, and emotions have been tossed up in the air and someone forgot to tell them to come down.  As I wait for the pieces of my internal fruit basket turnover to land, I can’t help but long for simplicity.  So what does this simmering scripture say that so aptly speaks to my unkemptness?  It says, “after you have suffered for a little while, the God of all grace, who has called you to his eternal glory in Christ, will himself restore, support, strengthen, and establish you” (I Peter 5:10).

 

We all experience internal fruit basket turnover; it’s only a matter of how and when.  Some upsets are more piercing than others.  Some come with deep heartache attached.  Some simply are agitated by too many demands pressing in on our already stretched thin lives.  And so a fitting word from the Lord comes and speaks peace to all those troubled places deep in our hearts.  I love how God’s word is truly one size fits all!  Here is what He says:

 

1)       This state of heart and mind will not last forever.  It has a definite end in sight.  It is hard to say what “a little while” means in God language.  It could mean days, months, years, or even minutes and hours.  At any moment God can intervene.  And the point is that God will intervene.  It is not an “if” but a “when” matter.  It will be on this side of Heaven, precisely because of what God intends to do when He does show up in an unmistakable way.  He will move in your life in a way that is noticeable.  That movement is grounded in the life you know here and now.

 

2)       Which leads to the second point:  God, Himself, will step in.  He won’t send a messenger in His stead to relieve your suffering.  He, Himself, will step into your situation and bring relief.  Our suffering is the kind of situation that God takes to heart.  He absolutely, and very personally, cares about what is going on in your life.  And God absolutely, and very intentionally, chooses to act within the details of your life to reveal His presence and glory. 

 

3)       And finally, the work God Himself will accomplish for you and within you, is of the lasting kind.  It has an eternal quality and cannot be diminished.  Ever.  By anything.  When God steps in and begins to work, noticeable change takes place.  You won’t have to wonder how long it will last.  The things God sets His mind to do will last as long as He does. . . . Forever.

 

These truths are so comforting to me!  I am so glad that God is more than able to overcome the challenges in my life, and more than willing to step into the mess that I am and make it wonderful.  How cool is that?  We must mean the world to Him!  And I want you to take to heart exactly what He intends to do for us and through us.

 

The words that scripture uses are:  restore, support, strengthen, and establish.  The meaning of the original Greek has a way of opening up these words for us.  First of all, all of these words are verbs.  They indicate activity that God does in reference to us.  We are the objects of God’s action.  All four of these verbs appear as future, active, indicative words.  It is action that is to come; the subject of the verb (God) is performing the action (as opposed to receiving it); and the action is an objective fact (as opposed to being a subjective possibility).  This means that what God intends to do for us comes from His movement that will actually happen, regardless of what we do, say, or think.  It is dependent upon His decision to engage in our lives in a very specific way, and that decision has already been given.  We don’t have to wonder whether or not God is going to show up in our suffering; God is already actively engaged whether we realize it or not.  Now, what exactly does God intend to do?

 

First He restores us.  The Greek word used here is a form of the word katartizo.  It means “to complete thoroughly, i.e. repair (literally or figuratively) or adjust—fit, frame, mend, (make) perfect (-ly join together), prepare, restore.”  It means that every kind of damage that our suffering has brought forth, the Lord will make right.  He will heal it.  He will make it well again.  We can count on being mended and whole again.

 

Then He supports us.  Here the word used comes from sterizo.  It means “to make fast, establish.  To set fast, i.e. (literally) to turn resolutely in a certain direction, or (figuratively) to confirm—fix, (e-) stablish, steadfastly set, strengthen.”  It reminds me of how a cast sets a broken bone.  The cast supports the limb in its healing and ensures that strength will return to that which was once broken. 

 

And thus He strengthens us.  This word comes from the Greek word sthenoo.  It means “to strengthen, i.e. (figuratively) confirm (in spiritual knowledge and power) –strengthen.”  This word is based upon the root word sthenos  which means “bodily vigor.”  Not only will God restore the strength that was lost, but we will be overflowing with it.  We will be better than we were before our suffering ever started.  Both sthenoo and sterizo are derived from the word histemi, meaning “to make to stand, to stand.”  Both words speak to the strength God gives us to stand on our own after we go through difficulty, after we are knocked down.  Suffering never has the last word for God’s children.  He gives us everything we need to stand tall again.

 

Finally, God establishes us.  In Greek it is themelioo.  It means “to lay a basis for, i.e. (literally) erect, or (figuratively) consolidate—(lay the) found (-ation), ground, settle.”  It comes from the word themelios which means “of or for a foundation,” which in turn is derived from tithemi.  Now here is where it gets exciting!  Watch this:  tithemi means “to place, lay, set; to place (in the widest application) literally or figuratively; properly, in a passive or horizontal posture, thus differently from histemi which denotes an upright and active position.”  Did you catch that?  Not only does God give us strength to actively stand on our own (histemi), but He also does for us what we cannot do for ourselves!  He places us in a settled place, upon a foundation that cannot be shaken (tithemi)!  As pastor Tom Ferrell points out (in his sermon “Hope When Life is Hard . . .”) this word, themelioo is the same word Jesus used in Matthew 7:25:  “The rain fell, the floods came, and the winds blew and beat on that house, but it did not fall, because it had been founded on rock.”  In His mercy, God heals our suffering, supports and strengthens us through it, and then gives us such a firm foundation that we cannot be knocked down again in the way we were before.  OH WOW!

 

Do you feel encouraged?  I do.  The grammar convinces me.  It helps me to see what I couldn’t before.  God has already made His mind up to do something about my life.  Something only He can do.  Something I need desperately.  Something I cannot do for myself.  And what He wants to do is an objective fact.  Something anyone can see.  We just have to turn everything over to Him, not allowing distractions to rob us of the peace He gives, trusting Him to be everything He says He is.  But that is another e-letter.  Be blessed and know that you are loved dear one.  His promises are for you.  Be brave enough to take them personally.  And I will too.

 

This is me trusting,

 

Sami

 

 

 

 

To subscribe or unsubscribe to the Wesley Foundation Weekly E-Letter List go to:

http://lists.wku.edu/mailman/listinfo/wesley

 

Sami Wilson

Campus Minister/Director

WKU Wesley Foundation

United Methodist Campus Ministry

270-842-2880

sami.wilson@wku.edu

 

Liminality--Wesley Foundation E-Letter (Methodist Campus Ministry)

Dear Friends, hope you are all well.  I am so looking forward to Wesley tonight!  It will be so good to see each and every one of you.  And I have a surprise for everyone who comes!  I got you all a present!  WOO HOO!!!!  You have to come and see what it is!  It will bless you, bless you, bless you!

 

Also, a word about Spring Retreat.  If you haven’t told me you are coming, RSVP to facebook or let me know through e-mail, in person, by phone, etc.  Thanks!

 

Now For Sami’s Ramblings About Jesus:

 

It is such a privilege to serve the body of Christ in the way that I get to.  I get to walk with young adults through some of the most formative days of their lives.  It is a time of discovery; separated from the framework of home, students must stand without the supports that formerly bolstered them, trying their own strengths that had once been tended and nurtured under the watchful eyes of parents.  I have often said that the most important education of college doesn’t happen in the classroom.  It is the education of learning how to live your own life, separated from home, yet still in an arena of freedom that still provides a safety net for the most scary steps of all.  And some of you make your way to my office, its own kind of safety net, and together we get to explore how walking through life supporting yourself feels.  It is scary, uncertain, thrilling, exciting, new, filled with exhilaration, yet constantly dogged by the unknown.  In a word, it is liminal. 

 

Liminal is such an unusual word.  My spell check doesn’t even recognize it.  It keeps asking me if I want to replace it with the word “luminal.”  No.  Liminal is exactly what I want to say.  My edition of Webster’s defines liminal as:  “of, relating to, or situated at the limen.”  Limen, according to Webster, means “threshold.”  And here is what Webster has to say about threshold: 

 

1) the plank, stone, or piece of timber that lies under a door: sill 2) a: gate, door b: (1): end, boundary; specifically: the end of a runway (2): the place or point of entering or beginning:  outset 3) the point at which a physiological or psychological effect begins to be produced (~ of consciousness) (a high renal clearance ~).

 

So liminality is best described as an in-between time or place.  In essence, things are ending and beginning simultaneously.  To be liminal is to be suspended between two points, without belonging to either.  For all of you biology majors, it is that moment when a neurotransmitter is suspended between the synapses of two neurons.  For all of you outdoor recreation buffs it is that moment when one is jumping from one rock to another and you are hanging in mid-air.  For all of you car owners who drive a manual transmission, it is that moment where you disengage the clutch in order to give it gas.  Hard to define where one ends and the other begins, but something significant is definitely happening.

 

As Christians, ones who belong to Christ, our spiritual walk is very liminal.  God is always wanting to do a new thing within us.  He is really into character development and new, abundant life.  Yet in order for the new thing to be born, something else must be relinquished.  So our lives become suffused with the tension of letting go and grabbing on.  Rarely does God manifest the new thing all at once.  It is a process that demands our blood, sweat and tears.  It must come from within us, so that it is truly a part of us.  Magic appearances do little more than scintillate our senses:  They have no lasting value; they are fleeting.  When God initiates change, it is a labor of Love, for Him and us.  This is God’s provision for lasting change; the cost assures us of its worth.  Thus we value the new life we are given.  But before it is born we labor with it.  Many times we are just so confused as to what the new thing is that we struggle with what old things must be retained as provision for the journey ahead or left behind as extra baggage.  These seasons are rarely neat; they are often messy, disorganized, and filled with disorientation.  And mostly these moments leave us exhausted, while we can’t even articulate why.  On the surface our lives may look as if not much is happening, yet inside tremendous change is taking place.

 

I believe God has enormous patience and love for those who have assented to the new thing He proposes; very rarely do we know what we get ourselves into.  And we cannot even say how or when or why we gave our yes, just that at some point we knew a time had come for the yes to be given.  I believe it is why our Lord has such a special place in His heart for college students.  Each one has said yes to such a radical upheaval of all that they know and love.  And not a one of them can say for sure where the pieces will lay when the four years are done.  Scariest of all is that sometimes at the end of four years, the degree is nowhere near finished, and that precious student stares into an uncertain future wondering where the time went.

 

So for all of those timid and tossed souls who are in the throws of liminality I bring tidings of Good News—God isn’t through with you:  “I always pray with joy because of your partnership in the gospel from the first day until now, being confident of this, that He who began a good work in you will carry it on to completion until the day of Christ Jesus” (Philippians 1:4-6).  He has better things ahead, hopeful things and helpful things.  It is good to remember the butterfly that is formed only in the cocoon.  And Jesus does not arise resurrected from the cross.  First He was entombed for three days, and His resurrection is born from the resting place of His death.  Is the cocoon or tomb our true home?  Surely not!  But what looks dead on the outside nestles the stirrings of new life within, and at just the right time new life will burst forth with amazing clarity and joy.  Wait for it, it will come.  Hear His promises to you, dear one:  “No eye has seen, no ear has heard, no mind has conceived what God has prepared for those who love Him” (I Corinthians 2:9).

 

This is me trusting,

 

Sami

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

To subscribe or unsubscribe to the Wesley Foundation Weekly E-Letter List go to:

http://lists.wku.edu/mailman/listinfo/wesley

 

Sami Wilson

Campus Minister/Director

WKU Wesley Foundation

United Methodist Campus Ministry

270-842-2880

sami.wilson@wku.edu

 

You are gift-- Wesley Foundation E-letter (Methodist Campus Ministry)

Hey everyone!  Hope you all had a great spring break.  It is good to be back, and I look forward to seeing you this week.  We have some good things going on!

 

TONIGHT:  Worship at 6:30pm.  Come and be refreshed with God’s Presence!

 

THURSDAY:  We will talk about Spring Break and think about how God showed up for us during that time!

 

Now For Sami’s Ramblings About Jesus:

 

You are gift.  Not you are a gift.  Not you are the gift.  Just simply, you are gift.  English majors are probably going crazy right now at my choice of words.  But there is something power-filled in that statement.  When I hear it, receive it as if spoken to me, it has profound meaning; I am charged by its implications, reverberating against the walls of my soul.  You are gift.

 

Several things come to mind.  Last week during Spring Break my sweet baby and I went to a continuing education event at Camp Loucon.  Other clergy were gathered there, as well as several facilitators.  Jeremiah entered into this group of twenty five participants, and none of us will ever be the same.  Something about his presence seemed to change the very atmosphere, the air, we all breathed.  Quite literally what it means to come to the Kingdom of God as a child was staring at us wide-eyed and with a toothless grin for three days.  There is something so disarming about a baby.  Weathered pastors, weary from the burdens they left in their churches seemed to breathe easier as they grasped three month old fingers, goo-gooing into three month old eyes, sharing smiles with one that seems to enjoy the Heavenly humor most of us can only guess at.  Something about Jeremiah enjoying us seemed to help us enjoy ourselves, and our loads were lightened.

 

Since it was too soon to be separated from my new baby for seven days, one of my dear friends who serves on our Board took our students to Louisiana to do hurricane recovery for the week.  They found themselves working on a 100 year old house, in need of repair and restoration.  What a joy it was to hear how our students brought their humor and hard work to a monumental task that would have made experienced contractors weak in the knees.  Originally there was supposed to be another group joining ours on the work site.  They couldn’t make it.  This meant our small group of seven (only two of which were guys) had to tackle the whole thing by themselves.  And they completed the whole thing!  I couldn’t be more proud because I remember my original conversations with the site manager.  I know that their hard work and deep accomplishment took everyone by surprise.  What was more encouraging though was to hear how the lives of those who lived in the house were affected by our small group of students.  My friend said that by the end of the week the gruff residents had mellowed so much.  Who knows what ways that Jesus ministered through the collective example of Mona, Adrian, and our precious students.  Eternity is forever different because five students and a Board member and her husband were simply available to hang drywall and install flooring.

 

What strikes me is that in the two examples above there was no preaching involved, simply presence.  Somebody showed up.  Somebody entered into the stream of life with others and the course of the river changed.  You may think this is not a big deal, but lately I am staggered by the power of this “no big deal” in my life.  Sunday, March 14^th was Joe Winters birthday.  Someone said the word “trajectory” in church, and I sat there thanking God for Joe’s life because that is the word I often associate with him.  Joe married my Mom when I was seven years old.  For thirty years he has been a constant and abiding presence in my life.  He is not someone who preaches.  He doesn’t get overly emotional about stuff.  He is strong, steady, steadfast.  Faithful.  And I know he loves me.  For thirty years he has shown up in my life, simply being present.  And his presence has changed everything, altered the very trajectory that my life was headed, and gave this passionate and tender heart the grounding to stay secure in life’s storms.  I don’t have words to thank God for him.  I just have deep wells of gratitude and love.  Where would my life be today if Joe Winters had not entered into its stream?  Where would the course of the river have taken me if a steady hand had not been there to guide it to good places?  This ordinary miracle of somebody’s presence has made a heavenly difference, without even trying to. 

 

So what I say to you (and to me) is that you are gift.  Your life has profound meaning.  Just showing up where you are makes a difference that you cannot comprehend.  And God who gave you as gift gives to those around you in ways you cannot imagine.  So live this day with gratitude, thankful for those gifts who have graced your life, and confident that your life too is gift given.

 

This is me trusting,

 

Sami

 

To subscribe or unsubscribe to the Wesley Foundation Weekly E-Letter List go to:

http://lists.wku.edu/mailman/listinfo/wesley

 

Sami Wilson

Campus Minister/Director

WKU Wesley Foundation

United Methodist Campus Ministry

270-842-2880

sami.wilson@wku.edu

 

Miracle on 14th Street--Wesley Foundation E-Letter (Methodist Campus Ministry)

Hey Everyone!  Hope you all had a great weekend and are rested for a new week!  Just one week to go before Spring Break.  Yahoo!  (And not the search engine, Yahoo, but the exclamation of great joy, Yahoo.)  I know that you will be blessed this week as you get ready for the many adventures that Spring Break brings.  You are all in my heart and prayers.  This week, here is what’s happening:

 

TONIGHT:  Worship @ 6:30 in our chapel.  We will be answering the “What” question of faith.  In other words we will be looking at the content of our faith.  If God is our focus, what is it that we believe about Him?  How do we know if it is right or not?  How can we tell if we are being misguided?  Come and find out the answers to these questions and more!

 

THURSDAY:  Free Meal & Program @ 6:30pm.  We will be taking time to put together our Outreach ministry for this spring.  Come and help us choose songs, scriptures, skits, etc.  We will also start putting dates on the calendar for visiting area churches and telling them about what God is doing at the Wesley!

 

NOW FOR SAMI’S RAMBLINGS ABOUT JESUS:

 

If you come to the Wesley Foundation, you will notice there is a cross on the concrete connecting the sidewalk to our door.  I’m not sure how it got there.  A few weeks ago one of my students brought it to my attention.  And she was amazed.  I had noticed it before, but I just believed that one of my Jesus crazy friends had anointed the sidewalk with oil or something.  I mean, if people could use oil to signify that something or someone has been separated unto God for His special purposes, why not a concrete entrance ramp?  So a couple of days ago I asked my crazy for Jesus friend if she knew where it had come from.  She told me she hadn’t even seen it, and no, she had not poured oil on our concrete.  Now I am amazed.  (See Brittany, you were right—God has shown up in a big way!!!!)  And even if someone did pour oil on our entrance ramp, it would have washed off a long time ago.  Only God knows how it got there.  Every time I see it I am reminded of Jesus’ words:  “If any want to become my followers, let them deny themselves and take up their cross daily and follow me” (Luke 9:23).  And here’s the really cool thing:  Anyone who comes into our ministry house must pass over the sign of the cross to do so.  And everyday that I walk into our building I am reminded that I must die to self so that something much better can be given life within me.

 

Not sure what your daily dying or denying looks like, but here is mine.  Yesterday was my day to go to Nashville to see my spiritual director.  I think of it as my monthly spiritual pilgrimage that helps keep my soul healthy and my head screwed on right.  But getting out of town is a bit more difficult now with a new baby thrown into the mix.  So from the beginning of my day I felt like I was rushed, anxious that I couldn’t enjoy the special journey that keeps me nourished and able to do the work God has called me to.  On the way to dropping the kids off at Nanny’s, Isaiah found a toy fire truck and was holding it in his lap.  Once we left the house I began our morning ritual of asking him what he wanted to pray for.  He said Lightning McQueen and Mac.  So I began to pray for Lightning, Mac, and the rest of our family.  As soon as I began though, Isaiah began making siren noises.  At first I thought, “if I say something he will just want to do it more, so I will not say a word and he will tire of the noisemaking soon.”  No such luck.  In fact, the more I prayed the louder the siren noises got.  And what I really wanted to do was turn around and shout, “Hey, keep it down!  I’m trying to be spiritual here!”  Then I remembered the way people with grown children speak longingly of those days when their kids were small.  So I held my tongue.  After all, I decided, maybe it was just a sign that I needed Jesus to come and fight the fires in my life.  Maybe that’s what prayer is anyway, our way of calling upon God to come to our rescue.  And Holiness is like a fire anyway.

 

Eventually I was able to get the boys settled at Nanny’s and myself onto I-65 Southbound.  I made a brief stop at Hobby Lobby and bought a new journal, but instead of leisurely browsing and getting coffee and a bagel at Panera’s next door, I left realizing my time was quickly fleeting.  See, I’ve been visiting my aging grandmother who lives in Nashville before going on to my appointment.  When I started these visits, it just seemed like a natural thing to do because she lived so close to where I was headed.  How could I not when I my journey took me almost directly to her house?  And then last October my grandparents’ house burned.  Now they are living in an assisted living facility, and, again by God’s grace, just minutes from where I go for spiritual direction.  My short visits seem even more important now.  Getting there yesterday was a bit more frenzied.  I got caught in traffic, making me ten minutes later than I wanted to be.  Once more I felt rushed and anxious, longing for a day empty of an agenda without the pressure of time restraints.  And yes I did indulge in the thought that it would be so much easier to just skip the visit.  But once I was there, it was just so good to be there.  I realized how precious those few moments were.  And I remembered that someday I will not have the opportunity to visit my grandparents.  Someday they will go home to be with the Lord.  As I was leaving, Grandma said she really enjoyed being with me; we hugged several times as she walked me out the door.  Making my way to the next stop my whole feeling about my day had changed; my soul was charged with gratitude.  Something so simple had become something so Holy.  During my time with my spiritual director, we spoke of interruptions, how they are really invitations to a deeper life.  In fact, as she reminded me of Henri Nouwen’s words, interruptions are our ministry.

 

As I began making my way back home, I stopped at a favorite coffee shop.  It’s the place I go each time on my journey home to reflect on what I’ve learned, writing the God messages in my journal so I won’t forget, preparing myself to return to life in Bowling Green.  I noticed that there were new faces at the counter.  An older woman waited on me.  She seemed a bit confused by the whole thing.  Once I ordered she set about making my drink.  She was trying so hard to get all the elements right, to be attentive, and to figure out the crazy expresso machine.  Finally my drink was just about ready when one of the other workers remarked that they didn’t have decaf expresso.  So she had to start all over, going to the back of the store to get some ordinary decaf coffee to make my latte.  I was so tempted to say, “never mind, I’ll stick with caffeine,” but for the first time in my day, I didn’t have to hurry.  And my head was still spinning with the deep things that came forth from my heart earlier at my appointment; I just didn’t have the energy to chase after her.  It crossed my mind to be irritated with this woman for the slowness, but ultimately I didn’t even have the energy for that.  So I just waited.  Eventually she returned with my drink, she rang me up, and took my money.  As I turned to go, she said to me, “Thank you for your patience.”  And I could tell she really meant it.  For the first time it dawned on me that patience was what she needed the most; then I remembered how grateful I am when others are patient with me.  Once again I felt the press of the Holy on my heart.  He really is so near.

 

I feel like I spent a lot of yesterday dying to self, experiencing the press of the cross on my life.  I’ve titled today’s ramblings “Miracle on 14^th Street.”  I’ve discovered that miracles are much like seasons.  Some miracles we would choose.  They are the ones where the gift is obvious, abundant, and beautiful, like new life bursting forth as the glory of Spring.  But then some miracles choose us.  Like the certainty of winter, where things look very dead, empty, and barren.  Several things about winter strike me as I consider the trees having lost their leaves.  First is that one can finally see what the tree is made of.  Its trunk and branches stand in stark relief against the pale winter sky.  How beautiful to see the structure and the symmetry laid bare.  I marvel even at the tenacious growth of those trees previously cut back.  New branches sprout and take new life beyond the cut places.  Even though it is obvious where the branches were first sawed off, new sticks grow around and fill in the empty places.  This miracle is often hidden in the spring and summer time.  And then I am reminded that it is in winter that the roots go down.  Something that looks so dead is very much alive.  The growth of those roots makes longevity possible, especially for those times when there is little rain to sustain new growth.  That tree has developed in such a way during the winter months to dig deep for nourishment, drawing from the place of its birth everything it needs to survive.  And really, without those winter months, Spring never happens.  In this way the miracle of the cross invites us to die to self so that the precious Life, more abundant Life, of Christ may be realized within us.  So that God’s glory is manifest for us.  So that He can draw all people to Himself through us.  I believe that this is a miracle that has chosen us at this time, in this place, in this Lenten season.  It is an invitation to deny those first self-centered impulses in favor of a Christ consciousness that changes the atmosphere we’re living in.  And that is our reason for being:  to put a human face on God’s love; to create a safe place for students to meet Jesus; to discover who we are in Christ, and to take the love of Jesus beyond our own four walls.  So join me friends.  The Holy is near, and His cross presses upon us not as punishment or correction, but so that Christ may be lifted up, and we can bring Him near to everyone we see.  Winter may be here now, but soon Spring will burst forth with joy and reckless abandon.

 

This is me trusting,

 

Sami

 

 

 

 

To subscribe or unsubscribe to the Wesley Foundation Weekly E-Letter List go to:

http://lists.wku.edu/mailman/listinfo/wesley

 

Sami Wilson

Campus Minister/Director

WKU Wesley Foundation

United Methodist Campus Ministry

270-842-2880

sami.wilson@wku.edu

 

Wesley Foundation--Weekly E-Letter (Methodist Campus Ministry)

Hello Everyone!  Hope you had a great weekend.  It was such a blessing to experience sunshine and warm weather!  Awesome!  Maybe Spring is on its way.  How cool would it be to be warm outside again?  That’s a funny sentence!

 

This week:

 

TONIGHT:  Worship @ 6:30pm.  Faith must have an object.  And all of us practice faith of some kind, we just may not realize it because its object may not be something we are conscious of.  Come and find out what it is utmost important to keep God as the object of our faith.  Tonight we will be answering the WHO question. 

 

WEDNESDAY:  Ladies group @ 3pm.  Yes we are on Ladies!  Woo Hoo!

 

THURSDAY:  Meal & program @ 6:30.  We will continue to dig into the word.  This time we will look at tools from critical thinking skills.  The university wants students to be able to think critically.  But those same skills that are used in the classroom can also take us deeper into an understanding of what God’s Word may be saying to us.  Should be fun!  Spice up your thinking!

 

SPRING RETREAT @ LOUCON:  Let me know if you can go April 10-12 to Loucon for our Spring Retreat.  Just got word that there is a possibility we might be able to partner with Wesley Foundation from U of L.  How completely cool is that!  Steve Boutell, campus minister there, is awesome.  We would have a fantastic time for sure!!!!!  Cost is $40. 

 

Now For Sami’s Ramblings About Jesus:

 

Last Wednesday several of us gathered in the chapel and received the imposition of ashes.  It was a time to mark the season of Lent, to remember how much we need God.  When I was in high school, my youth group celebrated Lent by having breakfast and a devotional every Wednesday morning before school.  I’m not quite sure how I got there, because my parents both worked in the big city, an hour away from the small town I lived in.  A part of that also involved giving something up.  My favorite thing to go without was always Dr. Pepper.  At the time it was my favorite soft drink, so there was some element of self denial there.  As the years went by I would give up TV shows that I knew weren’t good for me.  It seemed to be a natural way to break myself of bad habits and cut off the in-flow of mental junk food.  It’s seemed to help.  Whatever show I gave up has remained on my “let’s not watch this” list.  So I believe self-denial is good.  Those pangs of longing for that thing we’ve cut ourselves off from can serve as a reminder to turn our attention towards God.

 

This Lent there is an element of that in my practice this go around.  But in my heart is a deeper desire than to simply purge or order my life so that the extra baggage is done away with.  My prayer for each of us this Lent has been that we would enter deeply into the love of Christ and fall deeper in love with Jesus.  It is odd to be so focused on love during Lent, but I believe greater love is the ultimate goal of this season of repentance and discipline.  But it’s a lot easier for God to love us than it is for us to love God.  After all, He is invisible.  It takes faith, believing beyond what we can see, to know Him and commune with Him.  We are completely dependent upon Him to get this love feast started.

 

And that is exactly what He does.  The last few days I have been drawn to Song of Solomon.  I remember singing a song in Sunday School as a child, “He brought me to His banqueting table, and His banner over me is love; He brought me to His banqueting table, and His banner over me is love; He brought me to His banqueting table, and His banner over me is love; His banner over me is love.”  I’m sure if my Sunday School teachers had read all the words to that book, they probably wouldn’t have had us singing that song.  After all, of all the books in the Bible, this one is particularly laden with very strong language about the sharing of love in a physical way between a man and a woman.  It is very full of passion.  If it were a show on TV there would be an insignia in the upper right hand corner listed as TV-14, or even as TV-M, mature audiences only.  (I can just see Bibles being opened right now, and feverish turning of pages to the book right after Ecclesiastes.)  However, I believe it is the passion that draws me.  The Church included this book within the Bible because it is a picture of the passionate love God has for His people, and that Christ has for His bride.  The Lord would have us know that He is unashamedly, passionately loving us, right this minute, always, and forever.  John Wesley, the founder of Methodism put is this way:  “Grace for all and in all.”  God is reaching out to us in love, every moment of every day, to every person, whether He is recognized or not.

 

And what happens when we recognize and receive Him sets the world on fire.  John Wesley said just that, “I set myself on fire and people come to watch me burn.”  His heart was so stoked by the love of God that his radical message of grace was kicked out of the churches of his day.  He didn’t care.  He preached on the sidewalks.  And legend has it that he preached God’s message with such fervor that he left imprints of his feet in the concrete.  All because he discovered God loved him, really loved him. 

 

I can’t help but wonder what it would be like if each one of us made that discovery.  How radical would we be if our hearts were set on fire by His love?  To know in the core of who we are that He longs for us?  To hear Him speak of us with tender joy, and unabashed desire?  To know that if we allow it He will claim us for Himself and set a banner over us that declares His love to the world?  I have seen this.  A few weeks ago during the midnight feeding I discovered a woman preacher on TV who teaches scripture like I’ve never seen.  She has a way of uncovering the meaning of the text word by word, going to the deepest places and showing the original intent from the original language in a way that marries passion with study.  Only a nerd could be so consumed by such laborious study of text.  Yet this woman is no nerd.  She is stunning, with flawless features and flowing hair.  Physically beautiful.  Sure of the Gospel she preaches.  You can tell her confidence in the Lord is deep.  You can tell it has changed her life.  You can tell it is personal. 

 

So last week I wanted to know more.  I googled her name and found her website.  Along with it came entries from all kinds of different sources, some with a very different perspective on this woman preacher.  Her critics blast her because of a sordid past.  I mean sordid.  The kind that go way beyond a TV-M rating.  And apparently their accusations of what she was could very likely be true.  She doesn’t address her critics.  She ignores them.  She just keeps on preaching God’s word.  There is a big part of me that really wishes she would openly tell her story.  Because it is clear that whatever she may have been, she is not now.  I have often said that if God could call someone like me into ministry, God can call anyone.  Because I’m short.  Because I look like a teenager (although you have to stand further away now to be fooled).  Because I get so visibly excited about the craziest things.  Because I have such a college sense of humor.  Because I will use anything I can to get the message of God’s good news across . . . anything!  Because I am absolutely weird and quirky to the nth degree.  Because I am the last person you would want to organize anything.  Because I cry openly and laugh loudly.  Because, because, because.  But here’s the thing.  Here is a woman whose past defined her in way that is totally shunned by the church.  No one associated with anything religious would want her as their spokesperson.  It might send the wrong message.  But God wanted her more than her past branded her.  God placed His banner over her in boldness.  And she stood under it.  And today she waves His banner, the gospel in a way that brings Him near where others can’t.  Through a shunned and rejected vessel God is able to transform the world.  It’s true of her.  It’s true of me.  And it is true of anyone who reads this message.

 

The world would have us believe that true love is a competition, and only the most worthy woman (or man) left standing gets a rose.  And the enemy would have us believe that God gives roses the way the world does.  But the good news says that we are the rose.  We are the rose that God delights in and chooses for Himself.  He never rejects us.  He just gives us the room and free will to reject Him.  Yet even our  rejection will not quench His love.  So just immerse yourself in it this Lent.  Jump in.  Be drenched with love, and let it change everything.  Let it change the world you’re living in.

 

This is me trusting,

 

Sami

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

To subscribe or unsubscribe to the Wesley Foundation Weekly E-Letter List go to:

http://lists.wku.edu/mailman/listinfo/wesley

 

Sami Wilson

Campus Minister/Director

WKU Wesley Foundation

United Methodist Campus Ministry

270-842-2880

sami.wilson@wku.edu