40 Letters of Love: Dear 70

Dear 70,

My mom says if a person dies before you, people say they tragically died too young. If they die after you, they lived a good life. This is perhaps both funny and true. Both my parents have reached you this past month and I find myself reflecting on you and a bit in awe of what they’ve offered me.

I haven’t known them for all of you, but I believe all 70 of their years play into all 40 of mine. Both North Carolina natives with strong values of family and generosity, they created a safe space that I feel led my brother and I to be life long learners and seekers.

Here I sit today wondering what stories to share.

I could tell you how my dad coached my basketball team for years, how he always got me out of any jam-usually involving a car or how still to this day I have not a single doubt in my mind I could call him for any favor.

I could tell you how my mom cooked and washed the dishes every night after working all day without complaint, how she listened more than she talked to my endless storytelling and arguing or how still to this day when she tells me she is praying for me I have such gratitude that she is on my side.

But for some reason, there are two particular stories that at this very moment stand out. (Don't worry Dad, this won't be about the time you left me at church). 

When I was in the 8^th grade, I wrote "Math Sucks" on my book cover. Side note to the young people out there: book covers were made out of brown paper grocery bags and they protected something called a book which is how we had to learn in the olden days before the internet.  Back to Math Sucks…I’m not sure why I wrote that on my book cover, but I think it had more to do with fitting in than it did with a dislike for math. Once my dad saw it, he immediately insisted I make a new book cover and while I can’t remember his exact words, I remember he said something like, ‘we don’t say things like that in this house’.  Through this action and many others, my dad taught me that we value education. He taught me we are respectful. He taught me that we have gratitude for the opportunities we have in our life. He taught me that we can do hard things. And while I didn’t really hear it for years and I’m still trying to hear it, he was showing me that belonging is more important than fitting in.  

Fast forward to senior year and I can picture my mom and me on the blue love seat in our den watching  “My So Called Life”. Why this show didn’t have a bigger following and only lasted one season, I never understood, but my mom and I watched together weekly. Side note to the young people out there: when I was a child we had to watch our favorite shows on the night they came out on something called a TV which was the only way to watch in the olden days before DVR and Netflix and tablets. Back to the loveseat…I remember loving to watch this show with my mom. It felt like such an important thing, just the two of us sitting there watching. It was perhaps a foreshadowing of all the times my mom would comfort me on a couch as an adult- when Jimmy lost his job, when we were delayed, again, from traveling back to Ethiopia to pick up Gabre or simply by brushing my hair. She taught me that a mother listens, a mother comforts her child in sorrow, and that a mother doesn’t have to ‘fix’ anything- to love and pray is always enough.

So thank you 70. Thank you for the 70 years you have blessed my parents with that have blessed me. Here’s to many more blessings to come.

Love,

Me

40 Letters of Love: Dear Man in the Starbucks

Dear Man in the Starbucks,

The one with your eyes closed and head bowed- your coffee and muffin all but forgotten- I see you.

As I rush to grab an Americano with room and return to my office for the day- in a clinic, in a hospital- I see you there. Burdened and yet hopeful.

I’m not sure why you are here- a sick child, spouse, friend? Is it cancer? A stroke? An illness still baffling the doctors? Have you been here for days? Weeks? Months? Are you afraid? Angry? Exhausted?

As I asked myself these questions, I thought of the man with the baseball hat sitting in his beat up red truck watching the Christmas light show... alone. Hot chocolate and lights synced to a radio station play list is an Eskridge family favorite and like many family holiday traditions, each year we forget the “stop touching each other” and “sit down you can see fine” moments.

Last night while we were on our third house stop and things were really picking up in the back seat,  I saw him and wondered why he was alone.  Then I noticed his eyes. They were watching but not watching the light show with sadness. He was there when we arrived and remained when we left. It didn’t appear he would leave anytime soon. How much do the two of you have in common? How long did he sit there and what was the cause of his sadness? Is this the first Christmas without her? Maybe his children can’t make it home this year and it will be his first Christmas alone? Maybe today he too heard a diagnosis that will soon place him in a Starbucks, in a hospital, with shoulders slumped?

So many burdened this holiday season. The weight can feel heavier this time of year it seems.

Dear Man in the Starbucks- I can see your concern in the strain of your shoulders and the clinch of your jaw, but that isn’t what catches my eye, for that fits the description of many in this coffee shop, down from some hospital room, only for a moment.

This letter is to say I noticed the way you clasped your hands. The way you bowed your head. In the midst of the noise- you are reminding me of the one to turn to. The love we can all seek.

You are reminding me that while burdened we can be hopeful. You are reminding me that while not knowing the burdens people are carrying around me today, I can slow down and pay attention. I can notice and I can pray. I can be present and shine a light.  

Thank you.

Love,

Me

40 Letters of Love: Dear Gabre

Dear Gabre,

Today we celebrate your 7^th birthday. I almost wrote 8^th - I think because you have been talking about being 7 since you turned 6. You are always ready for a celebration.

I started to write this to let others know a little bit more of who you are, but then I would be writing to others. This is #40loveletters and this is my love letter to you. What is it that I want you to hear on this day about my love for you?

You are both a mama and a daddy’s girl with plenty of love and snuggles to go around.

You love all things shoes, especially if they sparkle and you long for the day you can wear high heels. You walk around the house in mine better than I can. Speaking of sparkle- you also love nails- bright, glittery and even fake. Your first grade teacher always has ‘fancy’ nails and it endeared her to you right away.

You have no fear. You will swim in 50 degree water, especially if your Aunt Lena is involved. You will jump off any height. You give me heart palpitations on the regular.

But most of all- you are Joy. 

You bring to our family laughter and celebration. At 7 you sometimes still confuse words that your dad and I find adorable and your siblings find hilarious. I should have known when you called a bathing suit “suit cases” at the age of 2, you would be a lifelong explorer of trying out new words.

Your joy explodes into big energy- you cartwheel your way around life- in the house, on the soccer field and much to your daddy’s dismay, through the restaurant. Any patch of clear ground seems worthy of a cartwheel.

In the past 3 weeks, something with reading has started to click and you are so proud. On Sunday you asked to sit and read to me two different times. I noticed the shift.

You see you hate things that are hard and avoid them if possible. With all that Joy, you aren’t quite sure what to do with sadness. You explain away a tear from a sad movie as something in your eye. You make us laugh when the book is too hard to read. You shut down in anger when one of us has hurt your feelings.

While I didn’t quite know where this letter was going when it began, now I know what I wanted you to hear on this day about my love for you. I love all of you- the Joy, the laughs, the playful spirit AND the anger, the sorrow, the times you are unsure.

You belong. You don’t need to hide away the hard pieces in order to be loved. They are just as beautiful. You are made in the image of the divine and She is smiling at all you are today as we celebrate your 7^th birthday.

Love,

Me

40 Letters of Love: Dear Gratitude

Dear Gratitude,

Perhaps it is cliche that I'm writing to you as we head into Thanksgiving, but if anything has changed me, it's you. How do I say I'm grateful to gratitude? I'm not sure, but I do know this...

Watching a daddy play with his kids in the ocean from my chair on the beach, you overwhelmed me.

Receiving a gift delivered to my door from a friend on one of my darkest days with a note of love and prayer, you overwhelmed me.

Listening to the rain on the front porch of the cabin, you overwhelmed me.

Laughing along to a text thread from friends, you overwhelmed me.

Watching as my daughter plays with my niece, you overwhelmed me.

Dancing in the kitchen with the girls, you overwhelmed me.

During an expected hug at an unexpected time, you overwhelmed me.

Gratitude, you are a constant. Choosing you is not.

The Joy I receive when I fully step into you is one not describable by a pen to a page, but I couldn't let 40 Love Letters go on without you.

Thank you gratitude.

Love,
Me

40 Letters of Love: Dear Couple on the Elevator

Dear Couple on the Elevator,

The couple with the insults poorly veiled as compliments. The ones with one last dig before you hopped off about coconut oil. The ones who think that because you are black you can say anything you want to me about my black daughter. You caught me completely off guard. Our family of five were joyfully heading up to the pool deck after dinner for some mini golf and Beauty and the Beast when you both decided to speak to Gabre about her hair.

I have started this letter to you many times since that night, but it wasn't a love letter. My anger was still protecting me from my pain. 

You see, you hurt me that night. You criticized the thing I think that hurts many women the most- you criticized my ability to mother.

What I wanted to say to you that night through my tears cried alone in the cruise ship bathroom was that I am trying my best. I have read books, watched videos, joined groups and sought advice from women of color with whom I have relationship.

What I wanted to say was that you have no idea of the history and the trauma of my child. You have no idea the hours where the two of us both cried because everything was knotted up and I didn't know what to do.

What I wanted to say was that you don't know how much this little girl now loves for her mama to do her hair. How often we get compliments from women of color. How there are no longer tears but fun and experimenting together when it is hair time.

What I wanted to say was that you don't know how this little girl dreams of long hair. How once when her hair had gotten so unhealthy because I couldn't quite figure things out, we cut it short and she mourned the loss of that hair. How she loves how it is growing out and when she swims she loves to have it down to feel it on her back. It brings her such joy and I know the cost to her hair- but her joy is worth it.

What I wanted to say was that on this night she finally let her older sister do her hair- an important thing for them and that while no it wasn't perfect- it was perfect to them.

Because while you know so much more about black hair, I know so much more about this precious child. And I will continue to do all I can to seek women of color to speak into both of our lives, but you are a stranger to me so your words were only hurtful.

But this is a love letter, so what I want to say to you now Dear Couple on the Elevator is this- I realize in your hurtful words you had a need to protect my daughter and I am grateful for that. I am even more grateful for the women in my life who have lovingly come beside us and I offer this letter to them in love and thanksgiving. Adoption has way more complexities that I could have even imagined, but at the end of the day what is left for me through adoption is a son and a daughter.

I pray the world can remember that and offer us love over judgement.

Love,
Me

40 Letters of Love: Dear Anger

Dear Anger,

Seems strange that this would be a love letter since that's not normally how I would say I feel about you. But you are teaching me- about myself and others.

I know you are there as a protector. Trying to protect from the true emotion lying underneath- fear or heartache or anxiousness or not enough or ego or...

I'm starting to feel you in my body- usually too late, but sometimes in just enough time to say, I see you there. I see you there trying to protect me from ____________ and I would like you to leave. I'm going to choose something else.

I recognize now how you sometimes come out in me from someone else's version of you. Anger in response to anger. I think you are a protection then too. Easier to respond to anger with anger than with love, with empathy, with understanding.

And then there are the times I notice you because one of my loved ones is hurting. Much easier to have you and be angry at the person/ the system/ the situation that caused the pain then it is to sit with them in it and have to feel it myself.

I'm starting to be a watchful observer of you in others, even when you are not directed at me. I see you covering something else up. I see you create a story for them that they were wronged, mistreated, or right. May I observe with empathy.

Yoda once said to young Anika, "Fear leads to anger. Anger leads to hate. Hate leads to suffering".

Thank you for trying to protect us, anger. But I hope to continue to observe you, then wink at you while asking you to leave. I hope you build my awareness and most especially my love.

Yes- even you anger- something to help me choose to love.

Love,
Me

40 Letters of Love: Dear Child

Dear Child,

Last night at bedtime you wanted to remind me I forgot to pray with you. You also wanted to be silly so instead of reminding me you said,

"Wait mama. We forgot. We forgot, what's his name?"

 I replied, "Who's name?"

You said, "You know, him. The boy. G....".

I caught on. "You mean God?"

"Yes, mama."

"God is not a boy," I say. 

You look shocked. "God is a girl?"

"No, God is much bigger than that. God is a boy AND a girl."

"We always say he," your older sister chimes in from the hall where she sometimes waits until it is her turn with mama at bedtime. 

"Yes, I wish we didn't do that," I say. 

You look at me with your 6 year old wonder and with the joy of possibility you say, "I want God to be a girl." 

And right there it hits me. This being, this divine love that I want my children to know has been taught to them as male. Yet again they are subtly hearing, men are better. Stronger. In charge.

Dear child and to all the little girls, your being is just as holy as a boy. You are God's image and therefore God cannot be only "He". I'm sorry we taught you this way. I see I'm not yet changing this for you.

So I hope you will hear me when I say- Beloved- use She anytime you want when you refer to God.

Love,
Me

40 Letters of Love: Dear Hannah

Dear Hannah,

Today you turn 40. What a gift. At some point while sitting on the deck in the early morning hour, you got this idea to write 40 love letters during this year of 40. Wonder where this will go? Will you write 40 letters? What will be the point? Will it change you?

It feels like the first love letter should be to you, the person I am often least likely to love. Why is that? Why do so many of us struggle to love ourselves? If I hold to the belief of the divine in us all- then I must believe it for myself.

The second half of the last decade has been one of discovery. I think I am finally getting to know you. Not the you filling a role of: student, teacher, wife, mother, boss. But the you- you.

You do not need alcohol to be funny.

While you often cry, you usually ignore feelings related to yourself.

You have an ingrained belief that your accomplishments equal your value and you have yet been able to convince yourself otherwise.

You are fiercely loved by many.

You LOVE flowers. All those years of saying what a waste of money, lies to yourself. You love the ones not bought in a store the most.

You believe in the power of story. That the telling and really listening to one another's story is the only way towards peace.

Each new discovery about yourself- the ones that had you in bed unsure what to do next and the ones that made you smile with joy- have been a gift.

You have the strongest desire to help people on a similar journey, but maybe we don't need help. Just time, awareness and the pause.

Gratitude, contemplative prayer, writing and walks outside are a must in your life. You just need to do those things, OK? You know how you can get.

You will keep screwing up. Keep apologizing.

Happy Birthday. I love you.

Love,
Me

Gather and Breath

Last week we moved into a series on Worship. We describe worship at 519 as contemporary, built on an ancient pattern that begins with a time to Enter into the presence of God, Hear the proclamation of God’s word, Respond to that word with our lives, and then be Sent out on God’s mission.

After the acts of hatred displayed in Charlottesville by White Nationalists the past 2 days, I am humble to be here this morning talking about worship because worship takes many forms. As Tim shared with us last week, worship is when we gather in this place as a community. But worship is also when we go out. It is about not remaining silent. It is about condemning hate and sharing love. Worship is not just some ancient rituals, but a commitment to living the gospel- that ALL are children of God. But don’t make this feel paralyzed. You can act today even in simple ways. For example our brothers and sisters at The Peak this morning are making signs to show their love to our neighboring church, St. Mary’s AME. There is a vigil tonight in Durham you could attend. And when I talked yesterday with my children about what was happening in Charlottesville, and asked them to brainstorm ways with me that we could show love- my son, Davis, said, “We could be nice to everyone we meet today” and that seemed like a great idea to me.

So as we continue our conversation on what it means to worship this morning I have some questions that have been weighing on my heart.

Anyone here feel weary?

Anyone here this morning feel like you are not enough? Like you don’t measure up? Wondering why you can’t get it together like John over on Facebook or Sarah down the street? Feeling anxiety to be more. Do more.

Anyone here this morning feel like the guilt is a weight that you can’t unlock? Does it Leave you wondering why you keep making the same mistakes again and again. The same bad choices that you promised yesterday you were done with?

Anyone here this morning feel angry? At the world. At hate displayed and at those that won’t denounce it as such. At yourself.  For all the things.

Anyone here this morning ever feel weary? Yeah, me too.

Me too. Maybe there’s comfort in not being alone.

And I hope that you know you can find comfort in this ancient but LIVING word. Hear These words this morning from Jesus spoken for you in  Matthew 11:28-30

Come to me, all who are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest. Take my yoke upon you and learn from me, for I am gentle and humble in heart, and you will find rest for your souls. For my yoke is easy and my burden is light.

Come to me all who are weary and burdened.

And here you are. You have come this morning to this place. You have gathered with your gifts, your gratitudes, your worries and your stories. You have gathered here to breath in the peace of God. To rest your weary souls. Your burdened hearts. Your tired minds.

When we enter into this holy space, this sacred ground, we begin each week with a Call to Worship- we enter into the presence of God. We don’t label it as such here at 519 like you might find in other churches with a weekly bulletin. But the Call to Worship is an opener- a beginning- a proclamation that we are here, gathered together, with the purpose of worshiping the Lord. The call to worship can take many forms- a prayer, a song, a scripture- but declares our collective intent. Here at 519 we usually enter in through song. This morning we sang the words...there is hope in your name.

No matter where you came from this morning and what you came in with and where you are going when we are done today, we are all here collectively at this very moment, worshiping together and even if our hearts aren’t into worshiping today, we all are breathing in.

My brother gave me a book this past Christmas, Peace in Every Step. And in this book I learned a bit more about breath prayer. While doing a breath prayer you say one thing while breathing in, another while breathing out. A dear friend of mine often uses the scripture from John 3, He must increase and I must decrease. One from the book that stuck with me is:  Breathe in God’s Peace, Breathe out God’s smile. Breathe in God’s Peace, Breathe out God’s Smile. I dare you to try it and not smile after a few repetitions.

People on average take 26,000 breaths a day. It is the first thing we do at birth and the last thing we do in life. In fact,  In Hebrew, the name Lord is representing by the letters YHVH

We would say YahWay but the letters together are said to be unpronounceable because they are the sound of breathing. Simply by breathing, The first thing we do at birth to have life, is say the name of God. and simply by breathing  The last thing we do before we die, is say the name of God.

We are created from the breath of God.  In Genesis we learn that, God created man and woman in his Divine Image from the dust of the ground and Breathed into us the breath of life. His breath. God created by breathing in. The divine breath is flowing through you. And it’s flowing through the person next to you. And it’s flowing through the person next to them. There is a holiness to the people all around us- in this place, and on each and every holy ground, each and every place you live and work and play.

So what does that mean for us? What does it mean for us here and what does it mean for us when we leave.

Before we leave each week, Owen or Graham give us a benediction. The Benediction ends our time together by declaring a  blessing and a sending out. A breathing out to each of us so that we can breath out to each person we meet, remembering that they too are a container for the divine breath of god.  Jesus tells us- whatever you do for them, you’ve done for me.

In the opening of his letter to the Ephesians, Paul reminds us of who we are and what we’re living for. He reminds  to Enter into the presence of God and to be Sent out on God’s mission.

Ephesians 1:3-6:

How blessed is God! (Yahweh!) And what a blessing he is! He’s the Father of our Master, Jesus Christ, and takes us to the high places of blessing in him. Long before he laid down earth’s foundations, he had us in mind, had settled on us as the focus of his love, to be made whole and holy by his love. Long, long ago he decided to adopt us into his family through Christ. (What pleasure he took in planning this!) He wanted us to enter into the celebration of his lavish gift-giving by the hand of his beloved Son.

Paul goes on to say (11-12):

It’s in Christ that we find out who we are and what we are living for. Long before we first heard of Christ and got our hopes up, he had his eye on us, had designs on us for glorious living, part of the overall purpose he is working out in everything and everyone.

It is in Christ that we find out who we are and what we are living for.

Just breath all this in this morning: Bring your weariness to Jesus. Be reminded of who you are: You are an adopted son or daughter and that adoption brings God pleasure.  

My husband, Jimmy and I have three kids, two are adopted from different continents than the one they now call home.Three children- each one a different race, coming from a different culture. But do you know what they call each other. Brother. Sister. I’m going in the ocean to play with my brother. My sister is driving me crazy.  My sister will help me.

What if you called the guy at work who gets under your skin exactly what God says he is- brother, container of the divine breath. What if you called your neighbor- the one who put the sign in her yard for the person you would never vote for- sister, container of the divine breath. What if called the ‘other’- othered by their race, their religion, their gender,  their disability, their sexuality- Brother. Sister., containers of the divine breath?

For You have been blessed WITH EVERY SPIRITUAL BLESSING Of CHRIST. God’s grace has been lavished on you with wisdom and understanding. And in Christ we find out Who we are AND What we are living for. In Christ we live and move and have our being.  YOUR LIFE IS A GIFT TO BE GIVEN FOR THE SERVICE OF GOD.

Breathe God’s Love in, Breathe God’s Smile Out

When we gather with our gifts and our stories to worship our God and to be filled up- and then we scatter and do not fight against the atrocities in this world, we are only half way breathing.

When we are apathetic to racism, sexism, any ism, we are only half way breathing.

When we chose our comfort, our security and our own convenience over the security and safety of others,  we are only halfway breathing.

And breathing halfway leads to death.

So...

Gather here and remember during the call to worship to enter and breath in the love of God AND  then remember to Feel the blessing of the benediction and be sent to breath out that same love.

Breathe in God's peace. Breathe out God's smile.

Breathe in I am loved. Breathe out you are too.

Breathe in I matter in the eyes of God. Breathe out black lives matter too.

Breathe in God's grace, Breathe out forgiveness to others

Breath in

Breath out

Breath in breath out

Breathing in God’s peace, requires breathing out of  god’s smile. God’s love.

This morning for our response, we are going to take some time to sit and breath. While Graham comes up to play some music for us, I invite you to practice a breath prayer or you may want to just sit and listen. We also would love to breath with you and people are located at the back of the room and I will be over at the side if you would like to pray with someone today or we would love to pray for you. As you pray be reminded of Jesus’s words to you, “Come to me all who are weary”.

I’ll open our prayer together,

Heavenly father, thank you for creating us with your breath. Thank you for loving us. God, as your children, we are gathered this morning to worship. As we sit together the next few moments, please allow us to be open to your spirit, to your love, as we breath in your presence.