If I were to speak at my dog's funeral....

Wiggles.

There are not too many things that stick with you for 15 years apart from parents, baby weight, and regrets. While she might not have been by my side for all 15 years, my childhood dog was just put to sleep this past Monday. It wasn’t as hard as it could have been, as I was 350 miles away in my own town. Wiggles was a loyal dog who stayed with me through horrible hair cuts, lazy afternoons, and packing for college. I only lived at home for 4 years with Wiggles and then moved away only to come home on short breaks. I always knew that even if my mom and dad didn’t greet me at the door, Wiggles would. She was always happy to see me, smell my dirty college laundry, and then bury herself in my clean clothes when they came out of the dryer. While my parents discouraged it, Wiggles always knew that she could sleep in my bed whenever I was home. She would sleep under my covers right by my legs and when she got too hot, she’d come up from under the covers and put her head right next to mine on the pillow.

I always promised her that my next dog would be named Fritos....because when Wiggles slept, she smelled like those little corn chips. I’m not sure why, but I always thought that’s how she smelled. But then we got another dog so that Wiggles would have a friend...and to my dismay, my mom named him Raindrop instead of my promised name of Fritos. Wiggles always seemed annoyed by Raindrop’s presence, even though they were good friends, I’m sure she was just mad that his name wasn’t Fritos.

I remember hot summer days in our backyard pool. Wiggles would walk the edge of the pool and sometimes she would fall in. We would put her on a float and push her around the pool. She would go around a few times, then make her way back to the deck. Wiggles was always protective. Any time we would go underwater, she would bark until she could see our heads pop up for air. She loved birds and going for walks. She never wanted to be leashed...she wanted to be free and explore.

As I start my 30’s, it starts with a lot of newness. I continue to see new ways that I’m growing up, moving on, and seeing how the past has shaped me to be who I am today. I loved Wiggles and will remember her as a constant in my life from the age of 15-30. I’ve heard of many people who will go and get a dog within a week or two of the death of their pet. I can understand that now. I can see how that “constant” is gone, and the need to fill the void becomes valid. And it’s not to say that you have to “replace” your pet with a new one, but the need to have another “constant” walking with you through life’s bad haircuts, lazy afternoons, and welcome home greetings.

And maybe that next “constant” will be called Fritos.

On Disappointing Dr. Shelley

I remember sitting beneath a cherry tree on a bench in front of the library with Dr. Shelley. I remember a sense of disappointment in my heart as he pleaded with me to not drop his writing class.

I signed up for his writing course because I wanted to learn how to write. At the time I was headed into curriculum writing for youth ministry and my writing was horrible. (It still is). I had always wanted to be a writer and had never really put anything on paper except in my own personal journal. The first day of class we were asked to write something, anything. And when I did, I got lots of red scribbles and a critique that left me speechless. I was destroyed. My entire career planning had hinged on my ability to write well. My hope in becoming a writer crumbled to pieces.

It was my first ever writing course, my first ever assignment, my first ever critique. And I gave up. I didn’t have tough skin to deal with the criticism. I was young, perhaps too young to be in seminary taking this kind of course. I was too young to take constructive criticism. I was too young to find a way to trust and believe that a man like Bruce Shelley could teach and mold me into a writer.

And so I gave up. I walked into Dr. Shelley’s office and asked him to sign my withdraw slip. He signed it with a look of disappointment. I walked out and didn’t even think about it. But then he called. He emailed. He wanted to meet with me.

I didn’t want to face him. I was a failure and insecure about my writing. I didn’t want him to change my mind. After several days of ignoring him, I couldn’t do it any longer. Under that tree on the bench, I experienced and heard a man who had a passion for people, for God, for writing.

He pleaded with me to return to his course. He had never had anyone withdraw and he wanted to see me succeed. Sensing his heart and passion, I was letting him down. With a lump in my throat holding back the tears, I couldn’t bring myself to reconsider. He begged and pleaded with me. While I sat there and listened to a man I respected, I couldn’t get over the idea that I was failing him as a professor. I knew I was failing myself too but I was frozen.

He apologized for failing me as a writer. He pleaded for me to give it another chance. I couldn’t look him in the eye because when I did, I could sense that...

...he saw something in me that even to this day, I have yet to see in myself.

...he saw potential. I think he saw someone who had passion.

...he saw an opportunity to invest in a young, perhaps too young, seminary student.

I failed him. I disappointed Bruce Shelley.

He didn’t fail me. I failed him.... I failed myself.

He prayed for me on that bench under the cherry tree. Then he stood up and walked away.

This past month, I found out that Dr. Shelley passed away.

And so I write to remember the day I disappointed him.

And I write to redeem that disappointment.

And I wish that I could go back to that bench and reconsider my decision.

But I move on. And I will write. I will write to honor him.....and honor Him.

Between Stephen Kellogg Concerts

I went to a Stephen Kellogg concert over 5 years ago. I had just moved back to Illinois after having lived in Denver. I moved on a promise of a youth ministry job at a church. I was excited about the new transition and a friend had allowed me to live with her. I had gone to college in Illinois, and I had a few friends that I was excited to be close to again. I was sad to leave behind the life I had created in Denver, but was hopeful that God would redeem and expand my community in Illinois.

What I had hoped to be a very exciting, happy start turned out to be quite a different beginning of my time back in Illinois. I hadn’t even unpacked before I found out (after I called the church) that they had given my position to someone else. You’re probably thinking the same thing as me, “How could they do that?” Well, as we know, there are always politics involved...and let’s just say there was no signed contract yet, so therefore they could pull a move like that. Nevertheless, the learned lesson was to never move without two things: a signed contract AND moving expenses paid.

In my first week after having left a very encouraging, loving community in Colorado, I was back in Illinois, sitting alone on the floor among my boxes trying to understand God, his church, and his people...and my future. There were a few things I knew to be true sitting there in my room.

1. God never lets me go...and I’ve experienced that.
2. I knew I was called to ministry....and I’ve experienced that.
3. I had a lot of bills and no money....I’ve ALWAYS experienced that.
4. One day He will set all things right.....someday I will experience that.

I got up from the floor and left the boxes packed. I went to church. Well, I wasn’t sure what church to go to, because for the first time, I didn’t have a church. So I went to the first one I could find in Wheaton. I sat in the back hoping to just fulfill my duty of being “at church every Sunday” and I didn’t want anyone to talk to me. That is when I met Tracy. She was God in flesh at that moment sitting next to me in the back pew. She listened to me and offered me babysitting hours, and even told me about a Lutheran church in Naperville that was looking for a High School Youth Director.

For a dark month in November I was working odd jobs for a temp agency and going to concerts. I took off one night on my own to explore Chicago and ended up at at Mat Kearney/Stephen Kellogg show at Shubas. I was alone at this show and I wondered how God was going to figure out my next steps because I had no idea. I remember what a great night that was, and begging that God would find roots for me in this place and a place where I could serve....

I went to a Stephen Kellogg concert last night.

And like many things, I am finding how God comes full circle. I’ve seen it in scripture, I’ve seen in in my life. As I was at the show last night, I reflected on the past 5 years. I reflected on that dark month, and how God’s hand was in all of it and led me to that Lutheran church in Naperville, that I still serve at. And last night I pondered a few things that I know to be true.

1. God never lets me go.
2. I know that I’m still called to ministry.
3. I still have alot of bills and no money.
4. And one day, as I experienced last night, He sets things right.

For me, there’s a lot of life that happened between those two Stephen Kellogg concerts. A lot of growing up, a lot of pain, a lot of blessings.... roots, community, and constant reminders of God’s calling and love in my life. There’s been gray hairs, weight gain and weight loss...there’s been old friendships broken and new friendships created. Numerous address changes, numerous teen heart changes, and always, always.... concerts.

God's Word.

Deuteronomy 11:18-20

“Fix these words of mine in your hearts and minds; tie them as symbols on your hands and bind them on your foreheads. Teach them to your children, talking about them when you sit at home and when you walk along the road, when you lie down and when you get up. Write them on the doorframes of your houses and on your gates..”

Sometimes I replace God’s Word with song lyrics.

Sometimes I replace God’s Word with my own interpretation of life.

Sometimes I replace God’s Word with quotes from my favorite books.

I don’t want to be remembered for knowing every lyric to ever song.

I don’t want to be remembered for having a good interpretation of life.

I don’t want to be remembered for quoting my favorite authors.

I want to be remembered for having God’s Word written on my heart.

How do I do this?

Thoughts?

Please share...