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Good Friends For The Day
By Debra-Lynn Swearingen Words between sobs are difficult to understand. Substitute teaching for elementary children gives me practice. On a regular basis, a little girl comes to me crying over the way her friend is treating her. In order to mediate I point to an overall desire for kindness and inclusion. And like most teachers dealing with childhood drama, I attempt to force reconciliation so the class can move forward. Sometimes it’s successful, sometimes not. Either way, I remain convinced that growing up female is fraught with friendship woe. You don’t have to look far beyond the school playground to find that women hold an idealized view of friendship. In fact, we…
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Memories Outdone By Truth
By Debra-Lynn Swearingen Memories of you from photographs faded streams of light they form my recollection and I close my eyes real tight I can almost hear your voice and see you standing near lingering in the moment forgetting you’re not here Memories are so fickle rushing from joy to sorrow happiness etched in minutes no promised earthly tomorrow But O’ how I return to yesterday and long for times gone by lingering in days of yore an old familiar cry So I wonder if memory is gift or a curse? The past is better than it was reality—all the worse For here I am without you no wishing’ll bring you…
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Chicks Dig Theology
By Debra-Lynn Swearingen I am no scholar. I often joke that I am hard-of-learning. The older I get, the more discipline it takes to read and study. Being nostalgic and sappy, I always suspect that I am one step away from Mysticism. But God forbid I shall ever again view faith through sentiments, feelings, and personal revelations. I must ask, “What does this mean?” Fortunately Lutheran theologians throughout time have answered that. Therefore I study our faith and practice. I read, remember, forget, and read again. As much as I once professed “Deeds, not creeds”, my go-to descriptions of faith were “I just follow Jesus”, or “I just believe the Bible”. Creeds indeed, and they meant…
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Pity, Pittance, and Pie
By Debra-Lynn Swearingen She died as she had lived. Alone. She had been long forgotten by her church and went largely unnoticed by her neighbors. Her illness had rendered her a social misfit. She didn’t communicate well and when she did speak, everyone could tell she was afflicted. Her medication had made her tongue thick, her hands shake, and her body rock back-and-forth. As involuntary as all of it was, one couldn’t help but wish she would stop. At one point, it was it was thought she would benefit from training in simple life functions; making purchases, counting money, and remembering walking paths through town. But her grasp of all that…
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Longing to Belong: A Sheep’s Tale
By Debra-Lynn Swearingen We were lost sheep for a season. There is nothing like church shopping to make you certain you are shepherd-less. Especially if you are susceptible to being a part of the growing sad, mad, church alumni. In some churches we were greeted heartily, some put us through a grueling Q&A session, and some we passed through without notice. We knew little of what we were looking for, and more of what we weren’t willing to endure. We were unsure of how right doctrine and social-fit unite, but we wanted both. We were longing to belong. We just didn’t know what that meant. This was not a new quest…
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Where do tears go in the Divine Service? Emotions in the Lutheran Church
I’ve never been a mountaintop Christian. In fact, my tent has seemingly been pitched in the valley. But that didn’t keep me from climbing. I surrounded myself with positive people, hung pithy sayings above my sink and by my door, and renounced all negative energy. I even said prayers that bound Satan and established a hedge of protection around those I loved. I chose to praise on the mountain more, and cry in the valley less. I was determined to be too blessed to be depressed. However, incantations and mantras are short lived in the face of real life trials. Dysfunction, disease, and death have a way of making headway…
