Just over 6 months...for no reason, exactly. And yet, for many reasons. Sometimes, what I want to say is too private to be said in a public forum, so I say nothing. Sometimes, I'm just too busy. Sometimes, I'm just too lazy.
On this Ash Wednesday, I am breaking the fast of words that I have held. This does not mean that the flood gates will open and that you will be reading any mush that falls out of my brain. It means that I will begin to share my voice again.
As Lent begins, so begins the call of churches to deprive one's self, to share with others, to spend one's time in studying God more...things that we should be doing, or calling each other to do, all year, not just for a period of 40 days. But we can handle 40 days, can't we? We can give up (candy, computer games, coffee, whatever) for 40 days, can't we? We can go to a Bible study once a week for 6 weeks, or an extra church service during the week for 6 weeks, can't we? We can...yeah, but why can't we the rest of the time?
Don't get me wrong. I know that we live in a post-Christian era, whether we want to admit it or not. I know that we are busy: that our kids are overscheduled and, as a result, our parents are overscheduled. I know that church is not the priority it was in the past.
For those of us who call ourselves Christian, we need to decide: Is God a priority in our lives? If we say that God is a priority in our lives, do our schedules reflect that? Do the schedules of our children reflect that? Do our lives in general - our actions, our financial decisions, the tv shows we watch and the music we listen to - reflect that?
If the answers to the questions in the above paragraph is overwhelmingly "no", then might I suggest that the days of this Lenten season be used to reflect on how those answers can be changed to "yes".
Wednesday, March 9, 2011
Friday, September 3, 2010
Restoring Honor
Hal and I went to the Restoring Honor Rally on August 28 at the Lincoln Memorial in Washington, DC. I will admit a little trepidation,
Sunday, August 1, 2010
The Stuff of Earth
The late Rich Mullins wrote the line "The stuff of earth competes for the allegiance I owe only to the Giver of all good things" in his "If I Stand". It was very appropriate for today's lectionary readings in church.
First, from Ecclesiates 1 and 2, the Preacher proclaiming "all is vanity and a striving after wind." (Ecclesiastes 1:14, all scripture today ESV). The Epistle reading, from Colossians 3 tells us to "Set (y)our minds on things that are above, not on things that are on earth." (3:2) - this reading talks about non-physical earthly things: sexual immorality, evil desire, greed, anger, slander, and other such "things" of earth. We who are Christians are supposed to have left the old self behind. I know that if you get me in NJ traffic, sometimes I allow the old self to slip out. I should not; I should hold to my "new self, which is being renewed in knowledge after the image of its creator" (3:10)
The Gospel reading today, from Luke 12:13-21, talks more about the physical "stuff of earth". The parable of the rich farmer, who has a bumper crop, and decides to hoard it. Eleven times the words I and my are used. There is no mention of family, nor is there mention of giving a tithe to the temple or a portion to the poor. He builds bigger barns to store his goods so that he may now live a life of ease. And then he dies that night. Great lot of good his new barns and his bumper crop did him, eh?
So what does this mean? Mullins puts it in the simplest of terms. We do not owe our allegiance to anything here on earth. Not our jobs, families, possessions, not even to the churches or synagogues where we worship. We owe our allegiance only to God, who has given all to us. This does not mean we should sit back, relax, do nothing. This does not mean we should not enjoy our possessions.
Rather, we should not put either our faith or our energy into what is truly vanity, that which is passing and will not be eternal. Our hearts should be turned to the Giver of those things that are ours for a time, for a season.
First, from Ecclesiates 1 and 2, the Preacher proclaiming "all is vanity and a striving after wind." (Ecclesiastes 1:14, all scripture today ESV). The Epistle reading, from Colossians 3 tells us to "Set (y)our minds on things that are above, not on things that are on earth." (3:2) - this reading talks about non-physical earthly things: sexual immorality, evil desire, greed, anger, slander, and other such "things" of earth. We who are Christians are supposed to have left the old self behind. I know that if you get me in NJ traffic, sometimes I allow the old self to slip out. I should not; I should hold to my "new self, which is being renewed in knowledge after the image of its creator" (3:10)
The Gospel reading today, from Luke 12:13-21, talks more about the physical "stuff of earth". The parable of the rich farmer, who has a bumper crop, and decides to hoard it. Eleven times the words I and my are used. There is no mention of family, nor is there mention of giving a tithe to the temple or a portion to the poor. He builds bigger barns to store his goods so that he may now live a life of ease. And then he dies that night. Great lot of good his new barns and his bumper crop did him, eh?
So what does this mean? Mullins puts it in the simplest of terms. We do not owe our allegiance to anything here on earth. Not our jobs, families, possessions, not even to the churches or synagogues where we worship. We owe our allegiance only to God, who has given all to us. This does not mean we should sit back, relax, do nothing. This does not mean we should not enjoy our possessions.
Rather, we should not put either our faith or our energy into what is truly vanity, that which is passing and will not be eternal. Our hearts should be turned to the Giver of those things that are ours for a time, for a season.
Monday, July 12, 2010
What's in a Name, Part II
So...I'm off on an establishment rant again...
Was thinking about my PA driver's license today, because a friend was talking about renewing her license. And I got ticked. Again.
When I married Hal, I had to get a new Social Security card. Chose to list my name as Connie Wagner Garlick, dropping my middle name (Marie). The Social Security Administration, seeing my birth certificate and marriage certificate, accepted this as my name. So did the Internal Revenue Service.
The state of Ohio gave me no trouble issuing a driver's license in the name of Connie Wagner Garlick, or Connie W. Garlick (I don't remember if they used middle name or initial).
The state of South Carolina - Connie Wagner Garlick.
The state of Nebraska - Connie Wagner Garlick.
You would THINK that this is a national trend, allowing someone to use the name that they have chosen upon their marriage.
Think again.
The commonwealth of Pennsylvania - the woman across the counter at the DMV - crossed out Wagner as my middle name and wrote Marie. I told her that was not my name. She insisted that it was. I told her that I had changed my name when I married. Showed her my Social Security Card again. She told me that using the name on the Social Security card "USED" to be legal. She insisted that my middle name is Marie, that she had to use the middle name on my birth certificate.
I went to my state representative's office shortly after getting a PA DL that does not match the name on my bank accounts, IRS info, SS card...and got a young woman behind a desk who called the DMV, would not let me talk to them, laughed with the person on the phone, and smugly told me that was the law. I told her it was a stupid law (I may have thrown in a non-preacherly word) and got up and left.
I still think it's a stupid law. Two entities of the federal government and three other states recognize me as who I choose to be. The sad thing is, I really like where we're living and don't want to move just so I can get my real name back on a driver's license. *sigh* I will just have to get our representative on one of his public appearances and get him to understand that this is a law that needs to be changed. Or just have a driver's license that matches none of my other information until I retire and move from PA.
Oh - and to top it off - the same woman HIT ON MY HUSBAND the next week, when he went to get his license. Thankfully, I was not in the building when it happened, or I'd be writing this from jail.
Was thinking about my PA driver's license today, because a friend was talking about renewing her license. And I got ticked. Again.
When I married Hal, I had to get a new Social Security card. Chose to list my name as Connie Wagner Garlick, dropping my middle name (Marie). The Social Security Administration, seeing my birth certificate and marriage certificate, accepted this as my name. So did the Internal Revenue Service.
The state of Ohio gave me no trouble issuing a driver's license in the name of Connie Wagner Garlick, or Connie W. Garlick (I don't remember if they used middle name or initial).
The state of South Carolina - Connie Wagner Garlick.
The state of Nebraska - Connie Wagner Garlick.
You would THINK that this is a national trend, allowing someone to use the name that they have chosen upon their marriage.
Think again.
The commonwealth of Pennsylvania - the woman across the counter at the DMV - crossed out Wagner as my middle name and wrote Marie. I told her that was not my name. She insisted that it was. I told her that I had changed my name when I married. Showed her my Social Security Card again. She told me that using the name on the Social Security card "USED" to be legal. She insisted that my middle name is Marie, that she had to use the middle name on my birth certificate.
I went to my state representative's office shortly after getting a PA DL that does not match the name on my bank accounts, IRS info, SS card...and got a young woman behind a desk who called the DMV, would not let me talk to them, laughed with the person on the phone, and smugly told me that was the law. I told her it was a stupid law (I may have thrown in a non-preacherly word) and got up and left.
I still think it's a stupid law. Two entities of the federal government and three other states recognize me as who I choose to be. The sad thing is, I really like where we're living and don't want to move just so I can get my real name back on a driver's license. *sigh* I will just have to get our representative on one of his public appearances and get him to understand that this is a law that needs to be changed. Or just have a driver's license that matches none of my other information until I retire and move from PA.
Oh - and to top it off - the same woman HIT ON MY HUSBAND the next week, when he went to get his license. Thankfully, I was not in the building when it happened, or I'd be writing this from jail.
Thursday, July 8, 2010
Home Again
Last week was the first time I attended the Creation Festival since 2006, when it was rained out. I have attended since 1986 (with the exception of one year I only attended set-up, and the last 3 years). It was good to be home.
Yes, good to be home after the festival - real showers and flush toilets.
But more than that, it was good to be back at Agape Farm. Good to see friends that I usually only see at the Fest. Good to camp with a great friend, who served as the "best chick" at my wedding. Good to be in the company of other Christians, regardless of denomination or theology. Good to breathe in the dust (remember, dust is our friend, our alternative being mud).
It was refreshing to unplug from technology, with the exception of a few cell phone calls to my husband, who stayed home to hold down the fort. I love you babe, and I missed you. And I thank you for letting me go on my pilgrimage without giving me a hard time about leaving - I know those whose spouses let them go, and others whose spouses do not let them leave their side. I appreciate the fact that you allow me to leave you for a week with the cat litter.
It was good to plug in to the messages that were out there. Not only the messages of the speakers or the musicians, but also the messages of those I encountered casually. Messages of hope, peace, God's hand in their lives. Messages that I needed to hear.
I am grateful for telephone, email and social media that allow me to keep in touch with the friends that I have made over 20 years. I am more grateful for the ability to attend the festival this year and reconnect with those people. I love you all.
Yes, good to be home after the festival - real showers and flush toilets.
But more than that, it was good to be back at Agape Farm. Good to see friends that I usually only see at the Fest. Good to camp with a great friend, who served as the "best chick" at my wedding. Good to be in the company of other Christians, regardless of denomination or theology. Good to breathe in the dust (remember, dust is our friend, our alternative being mud).
It was refreshing to unplug from technology, with the exception of a few cell phone calls to my husband, who stayed home to hold down the fort. I love you babe, and I missed you. And I thank you for letting me go on my pilgrimage without giving me a hard time about leaving - I know those whose spouses let them go, and others whose spouses do not let them leave their side. I appreciate the fact that you allow me to leave you for a week with the cat litter.
It was good to plug in to the messages that were out there. Not only the messages of the speakers or the musicians, but also the messages of those I encountered casually. Messages of hope, peace, God's hand in their lives. Messages that I needed to hear.
I am grateful for telephone, email and social media that allow me to keep in touch with the friends that I have made over 20 years. I am more grateful for the ability to attend the festival this year and reconnect with those people. I love you all.
Sunday, June 13, 2010
What's in a Name?
In the mid-80's, I worked for a computer software company. We had one particular customer who was difficult. Ok, really, he was a pain in certain parts of the anatomy that shall remain nameless. He was always trying to get free product, and no-one wanted to deal with him. The salesman, the techs, the owner of the company were always in meetings or out of the office - even if it meant they had to step out onto the sidewalk - when he called. So, we foisted him off on a temp that was brought in at one point. She was very nice, very sweet, and very temporary. So, when he called back several weeks later, he asked for Pam, and was told that she had been a temp. I helped him as best I could, telling him that I would give the salesman his message, that I was sorry, all I could do was give him the message, that I understood his frustration, that the techs were not available...and he told me how helpful I had been, could he have my name? I don't know why, I don't know where it came from - but I told him my name was Nancy. The office manager turned around and gave me an odd look. When I hung up, I told her who I'd been talking to, she just busted out laughing, understanding why I had not given him my name.
Fast forward about six weeks, to his next call. I had just given 2 weeks notice. When the office manager answered the phone, she put the call on hold and started cracking up. We all kind of looked at each other, waiting to find out what was going on. She caught her breath, looked at me, and said, "Oh, Nancy, this call is for you." I picked up the phone, gave my real name, and told him that Nancy was no longer with the company - and heard him sigh. He went through his whole litany of reasons he HAD to talk to the salesman or tech, listened to my whole litany of reasons why he couldn't - and, at the end of it all told me how he was glad that he had been able to speak to me, and could he have my name. I told him my name is Connie - but it wouldn't do him good, as I was leaving the company. He asked how bad the company was to work for, that Pam and Nancy and I had all left - I told him that Pam had been a temp, that Nancy was a flake and we had to let her go ;) and that I had just decided to move on to another industry, that the company was a good company and that I was SURE that whoever they hired would be very helpful.
Why am I telling you all this? Well, this past weekend poetic justice hit.
This past weekend Hal and I were at the Penn West Conference of the UCC Annual Meeting. At one point, all new pastors were introduced to the gathering. I was surprised to hear the name "Nancy Garlick" along with Harold Garlick as the new pastors at Meyersdale. Realizing they meant me, I stood up and said "Connie" and heard several other voices say the same. The Conference Minister later apologized for misspeaking.
Odd thing is, this is not the first time this has happened. When Hal and I were first married, within the first month, we had to attend the annual meeting for the Methodist conference where Hal was serving. At the district dinner, his district superintendent introduced "Hal Garlick, and his new wife, Joyce." Hal and I stood up, and Hal said, "This is my new wife Connie. You weren't supposed to tell her about Joyce." Everyone laughed, the D.S. apologized, and we went on with dinner. I later found out that our neighbor in OH was Joyce.
And I won't even mention all the times I was called Constance, which is not my given name (if you must know, Connie is short for Confrontational).
Fast forward about six weeks, to his next call. I had just given 2 weeks notice. When the office manager answered the phone, she put the call on hold and started cracking up. We all kind of looked at each other, waiting to find out what was going on. She caught her breath, looked at me, and said, "Oh, Nancy, this call is for you." I picked up the phone, gave my real name, and told him that Nancy was no longer with the company - and heard him sigh. He went through his whole litany of reasons he HAD to talk to the salesman or tech, listened to my whole litany of reasons why he couldn't - and, at the end of it all told me how he was glad that he had been able to speak to me, and could he have my name. I told him my name is Connie - but it wouldn't do him good, as I was leaving the company. He asked how bad the company was to work for, that Pam and Nancy and I had all left - I told him that Pam had been a temp, that Nancy was a flake and we had to let her go ;) and that I had just decided to move on to another industry, that the company was a good company and that I was SURE that whoever they hired would be very helpful.
Why am I telling you all this? Well, this past weekend poetic justice hit.
This past weekend Hal and I were at the Penn West Conference of the UCC Annual Meeting. At one point, all new pastors were introduced to the gathering. I was surprised to hear the name "Nancy Garlick" along with Harold Garlick as the new pastors at Meyersdale. Realizing they meant me, I stood up and said "Connie" and heard several other voices say the same. The Conference Minister later apologized for misspeaking.
Odd thing is, this is not the first time this has happened. When Hal and I were first married, within the first month, we had to attend the annual meeting for the Methodist conference where Hal was serving. At the district dinner, his district superintendent introduced "Hal Garlick, and his new wife, Joyce." Hal and I stood up, and Hal said, "This is my new wife Connie. You weren't supposed to tell her about Joyce." Everyone laughed, the D.S. apologized, and we went on with dinner. I later found out that our neighbor in OH was Joyce.
And I won't even mention all the times I was called Constance, which is not my given name (if you must know, Connie is short for Confrontational).
Tuesday, June 8, 2010
Not a Morning Person
I am not a morning person (and yet, somehow I was up at 7 am today). My husband knew this when we married. That is, he should have known this. After all, I had repeatedly told him. And, well, there was that whole different approach we had to the 8 am classes.
Before we married, Hal would get up from his dorm room (the nights he wasn't back in Ohio), get ready, go down to the student lounge, get coffee, hang out, head to class. I, on the other hand, would roll out of bed in my apartment on the other side of campus, throw on some clothes, pull my hair back into a pony tail, brush my teeth, and - if I had time - make instant coffee to put into my travel mug, and dash across campus to slide into class 2 minutes before it started.
So he should have known.
We married on June 1, 2002. That summer, most of the time he let me sleep in while he got up and puttered around the house, doing pastor stuff like sermon prep and drinking coffee. Especially after one particular morning. I remember it well. He had gotten up, in a good mood, bright eyed and bushy-tailed (a saying which I have never particularly understood) - kissed me good morning, said he loved me, to which I replied "mughlorkingsplat" or something of the like. A little while later (after I had rolled over, pulled the pillow over my head and started snoring again), I felt a vice close around my ankle and this horrible pain on the bottom of my foot. Ok, really, he had just grabbed my ankle and started tickling me. But, well, at that hour of the morning...
Needless to say, more than mughlorkingsplat came out of my mouth. I don't think I said any bad words - but I do remember questioning his sanity and asking him what he thought he was doing as I pulled my poor foot out of his evil clutches. He got a terribly hurt look on his face, and said he was just tickling his bride's foot (he tells me now that on that morning, his beautiful bride was not to be found). Feeling badly, I muttered that I had warned him that I'm not a morning person, that I was sorry, but please leave me alone. I think I said please. I don't know if he remembers it that way or not. If I didn't say those things, though, I meant to. In my defense, it was early. I know that when Hal tells the story, something about evil incarnate overtaking his bride comes into play.
We now have an understanding when it comes to morning. I get up on the mornings that I absolutely have to. The rest of the time, Hal gets up and does what he does quietly. He warns me before he turns the bedroom light on in the morning (otherwise he hears the line from Gremlins: "Bright light! Bright light!"). At times he'll gently kiss me bye when he leaves for the office, otherwise he'll just wait til I get up and call over to the office to say good morning. And I try really hard not to growl - or whatever that voice was that came out of my mouth that morning 8 years ago.
Before we married, Hal would get up from his dorm room (the nights he wasn't back in Ohio), get ready, go down to the student lounge, get coffee, hang out, head to class. I, on the other hand, would roll out of bed in my apartment on the other side of campus, throw on some clothes, pull my hair back into a pony tail, brush my teeth, and - if I had time - make instant coffee to put into my travel mug, and dash across campus to slide into class 2 minutes before it started.
So he should have known.
We married on June 1, 2002. That summer, most of the time he let me sleep in while he got up and puttered around the house, doing pastor stuff like sermon prep and drinking coffee. Especially after one particular morning. I remember it well. He had gotten up, in a good mood, bright eyed and bushy-tailed (a saying which I have never particularly understood) - kissed me good morning, said he loved me, to which I replied "mughlorkingsplat" or something of the like. A little while later (after I had rolled over, pulled the pillow over my head and started snoring again), I felt a vice close around my ankle and this horrible pain on the bottom of my foot. Ok, really, he had just grabbed my ankle and started tickling me. But, well, at that hour of the morning...
Needless to say, more than mughlorkingsplat came out of my mouth. I don't think I said any bad words - but I do remember questioning his sanity and asking him what he thought he was doing as I pulled my poor foot out of his evil clutches. He got a terribly hurt look on his face, and said he was just tickling his bride's foot (he tells me now that on that morning, his beautiful bride was not to be found). Feeling badly, I muttered that I had warned him that I'm not a morning person, that I was sorry, but please leave me alone. I think I said please. I don't know if he remembers it that way or not. If I didn't say those things, though, I meant to. In my defense, it was early. I know that when Hal tells the story, something about evil incarnate overtaking his bride comes into play.
We now have an understanding when it comes to morning. I get up on the mornings that I absolutely have to. The rest of the time, Hal gets up and does what he does quietly. He warns me before he turns the bedroom light on in the morning (otherwise he hears the line from Gremlins: "Bright light! Bright light!"). At times he'll gently kiss me bye when he leaves for the office, otherwise he'll just wait til I get up and call over to the office to say good morning. And I try really hard not to growl - or whatever that voice was that came out of my mouth that morning 8 years ago.
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