As I sat in Ash Wednesday service this evening, it was brought to my attention that there were millions who did the same today.  It moved me to think of the human race all with ashes on their foreheads representing individual and communal lamentation.

I love traditions, especially ones that have been passed down over thousands of years. There is a rich legacy in this day around the world that should not be taken lightly. In the past few years, I have removed myself from the common lenten practices of giving something up, fasting, or taking something on.  For me it became a crutch to my addiction: I must do lent perfectly; if I miss a day or don't do something right, I will fail and disappoint. 

Don't get me wrong, lent is about the discipline of showing up to a practice that is chosen with discernment and contemplation in the Spirit.  But the process that seeped through for me became more about my performance for God than opening myself up to God.

It has been a long, wet week in Southern California.  Rain is to L.A. what snow is to Seattle:  Life stops, people stay home, others forget how to drive, and even more of us gather at the windows to watch it fall.  It's pretty funny when I stop to think about it.  In addition to the weather, my husband was traveling for work on the other side of the world (literally), the supreme court made a decision that my PMS decided to take all of my vengeance out on, and Focus on the Family is running a superbowl ad.  Jesus, please come soon...

After I read about Focus on the Family, I put a link on my facebook.  I wrote, "Seriously Focus on the Family? You couldn't find another use for 3 million dollars?????" Which spurred on 30-something long comment chain on my wall.  Unbeknownst to me, a college friend of mine's dad works in the marketing department at Focus on the Family and she had him write to me to set the record straight.  Fine. It's not their money. Donors gave them the money to put an ad in the superbowl.  I still don't think that's a good reason, but I'm waving my flag.  I retreat.  In other news, the supreme courtgave permission for companies to back political candidates.  How quickly we forget how LONG the election of 2008 was, and with this little juncture, it will make elections the most annoying, biased campaigns EVER.   But I'm waiving my white flag here too.

I recently read a survey that indicated 90% of American men self identify as being "above average fitness" compared to their peers.  When you do the math (and even I can do this math) it becomes these men don't have self image problems; but they are delusional.  Their problem comes, I suspect, from one of the oldest tricks in the book: confusing intention with action.  They want to exercise, want to eat right, want get enough sleep, want to cut back on coffee and alcohol.  They watch bow-flex commercials, drink low carb beer, and declare themselves 'fitter than average'.  Intent gets confused with action.   What's actually needed are objective measures of health; things like body mass index, resting heart rate, and the good/bad cholesterol ratio.   The harsh numbers tell the truth.  

Well, El Nino has finally come to Southern California.  After months of projections and predictions, the showers started yesterday and promise not to let up for a week. As I sit here and look out my window at my backyard soaking up this downpour, all I see are unfinished projects: a deck not stained, a staircase that needs to be built, a half built chicken coop, and a struggling vegetable garden. It's days like these that I can lay in bed with a cup of tea and say to myself, "Well none of that is getting fixed today."

It's easy for me, a former Pacific Northwesterner, to sit back and enjoy the rain.  It soothes my soul as only few things can. I realize many right now do not feel soothed. My friends who are closely connected to orphanages in Haiti have had sleepless nights and a week of torture waiting by the phone or computer. Not to mention, the people of Haiti and the reality they are living in the images and videos I see on my computer.  I can turn off my computer -- they can't turn off their lives.

I grew up before women in ministry were a popular trend. I'm not sure it's taken off quite yet, but it is more "in" now than it was 15 years ago. Sure the pastors' wives were around a bit. I even had coffee with them on occasion, but in terms of teaching, I was not formally taught by women in the church. When I left for college, other than my mother, I did not have a strong feminine mentoring presence in my life.

Halfway through college I discovered Anne Lamott. For maybe the first time in my life I learned what honesty was in the form of her short anecdotal stories. She was humorous, crass, vulnerable, and real. I gobbled up every book of hers on the market and over the past five years have been to every venue she has spoken at in Los Angeles County. 

In the last decade a new model of community at churches has taken off – the life group.  It disguises itself with other names such as home group, accountability group, small group, cell group, etc.  As churches get bigger and people feel more disconnected, they find their connection through these groups.  I have been part of at least six groups in the last eight years.  There has been great transformation, wonderful relationships built and truly I have called most of these people family.  Heck, my whole ministry was birthed out of my living room.

I believe in the smaller gathering of people to do life together. However, in the past six months, my husband and I have started wondering what we are called to in terms of community.  As we look at our own church, many life groups are set up by interest and not location, so people gather from all ends of Los Angeles County to meet once a week to discuss God and our lives, but the needs of our communities are not being discussed.  Life isn’t happening in neighborhoods anymore.  It’s happening online and at churches in another town.  Churches are even creating satellite campuses where the pastor is beamed in every week.  This is scary when we need help and no one is truly there.  

When you think about it, saying "Thank you," is one of the first manners we encourage small children to adopt. This simple practice of remembering to thank the people around us is so basic to positive human interactions that, when absent, it is a glaring rudeness that paints the withholding party as arrogant.

Somewhere along the line, then, we've learned that gratitude for services rendered or a job well done is an appropriate and meaningful human to human response in life.

But what about thankfulness as a spiritual practice and a way of life?

In Psalm 50, the poet is speaking for God when he says--

"I don't need bulls from your farms or goats from your herds. All the animals in the forest are mine and the cattle on thousands of hills. All the wild birds are mine and all living thingsin the land... Let the GIVING OF THANKS be your sacrifice to God..."

I love-hate the old 90's film, "What About Bob." Every time I watch it, I laugh out loud, mostly in a nervous, really uncomfortable, I'm-not-sure-what-else-to-do, kind of way. The character,"Bob," is horrifically neurotic. He has OCD to the nth degree. He won't touch anything without cleaning it and his fears and hang-ups outnumber even the most terrified cartoon character. His only salvation, his only pathway through the bog of his own psychosis, is a pop psychologist who has penned a trite self-help book called "Baby Steps." Bob, like a desperate leech, latches on to the concept and begins to see improvement. He can suddenly take elevators by taking one baby step at a time. He can walk out of his living room because all he has to do is take one step, and then another step. Bob's obsession with the book leads to more uncomfortable, neurotic humor and the audience can chuckle because the scenario is just too absurd to be real. WE are not that crazy. WE obviously have better boundaries. We don't need to take baby steps. Right? RIGHT????

I came across a funny story earlier this week... 

A South Florida woman said she was cooking fried salami when she noticed the word "GOD" on the meat, Miami television station WFOR reported.  Nancy Simoes said she had three pieces in a skillet and flipped one of them and saw the letter G.  "Then got the O and I thought to myself how cool will it be if the third letter was a D."

Simoes realizes people may think she's crazy.  "I can't make this up. ... it's there in the burn marks." For 20 years, her family has enjoyed fried salami for breakfast. Now Simoes is wondering how she will preserve the "holy" salami.