Rev. Betsy's Blog

New Blog!

2010-01-17T14:01:00.002-06:00

Betsy Singleton-Snyder is now posting on the Stepping on Cheerios blog on littlerockmamas.com! Please visit her there.

2009-01-15T19:17:00.001-06:00

Aubrey, Wyatt and Sullivan, children of Victor Snyder and Rev. Betsy Singleton.

Welcome, Triplets!

2008-12-09T13:07:00.005-06:00

FOR IMMEDIATE RELEASE

December 09, 2008

SNYDER BABY BOYS BORN TODAY

Little Rock, AR – Congressman Vic Snyder and Reverend Betsy Singleton Snyder along with their 2 year old son Penn are delighted to welcome the arrival of three baby boys, Aubrey, Wyatt, and Sullivan. The babies' weights are 3 pounds, 15 ounces; 4 pounds, 10 ounces; and 4 pounds, 15 ounces. The boys were delivered this morning by Caesarian section. It is anticipated they will do some feeding and growing in the hospital for approximately three weeks before going home.

Shades of Gray

2008-08-12T15:06:00.002-05:00

As our nation approaches a presidential election, our worship team considered a variety of topics we might explore for a September sermon series in '08.

When I turn on the news in the evening, whether it is CNN or MSNBC or Fox, or another media outlet, almost always I find the discussion and opinions on "both" sides of the issues, be it immigration, health care, drilling for oil or almost any other controversial topic, unhelpful. Almost all the "talking heads" providing their limited expertise make the issues seem one way or another, black or white. In fact, in this election, the discussion is often literally about black and white, young or old, evangelical or atheist, citizen or immigrant.

That's why our worship team chose to build a series of sermons and worship experiences around "Seeing Gray in a World of Black and White: Thoughts on Religion, Morality and Politics" by Rev. Adam Hamilton, the pastor of Church of the Resurrection in Kansas.

In the book, Hamilton suggests that the culture and political wars haven't yet found a middle way. As the book jacket notes: He believes that thinking persons of faith can model for the rest of the country a richer, more thoughtful conversation on the political, moral and religious issues that divide us. Hamilton rejects the easy assumptions and sloppy analysis of black and white thinking, seeking instead the truth that resides on all sides of the issues and offering a faithful and compassionate way forward.

A few weeks ago, a man who identified himself as conservative theologically and politically visited our church. After the visit he contacted me to ask a few more questions about our church. Even though he believed himself to be more conservative in his beliefs and style of worship than our congregation, he was very impressed with the warmth those around him expressed, the friendliness, and the obviously long list of outreach projects into the community. He told me he felt that people at QQUMC are passionate about reaching people who don't know Christ.

As we talked I told him that I also believed members of our congregation try very hard not to divide people by labeling them according to what they believe. There are people in our congregation who are left of me and to the right of me. There is no way there cannot be theological diversity in a congregation where many of its members come from traditions that are not United Methodist. Many of our new members in this growing congregation come from a wide variety of theological backgrounds (from Unitarian to Church of Christ), and I hope we help facilitate their journey of spiritual growth and maturity.

That spiritual growth and maturity, I'd like to think, is partly about learning to "see the gray" in the world. When I was growing up, friends in more conservative church traditions would tell me to share with them what I believed in one or two sentences. That was difficult. The United Methodist Church has an entire book, "The Book of Resolutions" that is added to and changed every four years at our global General Conference. These resolutions state what the church believes about issues and concerns taking place in the world. They are especially important because they are based, best we can, on a biblical foundation, but they address contemporary issues the Bible does not always address. Thus, for United Methodists, it is hard to say in a sentence or two what we believe. We have lots of beliefs that are not easily categorized in a black and white world.

I hope you'll join us for all the Sundays in September (or virtually!) and bring a friend as we discuss what it really means to be liberal or conservative, what is spiritual maturity and the ability to see gray, how should one's faith come into play when approaching a presidential election, what is a worthy vision for America, and what is the radical center?

Most of you know, I'm pregnant with triplets. So far, all is well. Thank you for your prayers for our health. Pray also that the world in which we live, so polarized by black and white opinion, become a place where Christians, especially progressive Christians and conservative Christians, can listen to one another, where progressive Americans and conservative Americans can hear the truth in what each is saying.

And I hope my friend who identifies himself as conservative will always feel welcome in a church that is known for welcoming everyone, just as Jesus instructed us to do (Matthew 13:44-47). God may do the sorting, but that is not our task as the church. Our task is to open the door wide! That's the kind of church and world I want for all my children and all God's children.

Peace,

Rev. Betsy

Praying in Public

2008-07-16T12:20:00.003-05:00

It's coming up on two months since I blogged, a rather embarrassing record, but I have several excellent excuses. The last blog was posted the day before we went on a family vacation and just a week and a half before we learned that I was pregnant.

Indeed, the family trip to Oregon was difficult for me because the nausea started as we landed in Denver on the first leg of our journey. It was much more intense than my first pregnancy and began much sooner. The reason: we suspected I might be carrying twins. The hormone levels for the pregnancy test were very high. However, this fact would not be confirmed until we had the first ultrasound the day after we returned from our trip. And the first ultrasound did confirm we had two sacs and two heartbeats.

Yet it was too early to share this information with our church family and friends. It was also too early for me to blog about it. But since it was almost all I could think about I began to put my own thoughts and feelings in a journal. Two weeks passed. The next ultrasound would show us, we hoped, two healthy babies, and we would be released from the fertility doctor to our regular OB.

We had a long wait for the second ultrasound. It was a busy morning at the clinic. We wondered if both little guys would be doing okay, would have heartbeats. Having been through this before, we know it's not a given. The encouraging part was the continued nausea--another reason I wasn't so keen on blogging or much of anything extra--and I seemed larger already, much sooner. I was also eating like a horse to keep the nausea at bay and simply felt a deep craving for food.

My husband stood behind me while the ultrasound began. He commented that he saw something else. With his medical background, he knows more about ultrasounds than the average expectant father. The doctor then said something to the effect of, "Yes, it appears there is a third one." I said, "A third what?" After a few moments, the doctor leaned over my drape, took my hand, and said, "You are going to have triplets."

Never, never in my life have I been more stunned or shocked. Suddenly everything that seemed manageable before, including twins, got wildly out of control. Our car was too little. Our house seemed to small. The pregnancy seemed much harder and scarier. And how we would juggle it all?

After we had another ultrasound that showed healthy heartbeats and shared we were pregnant publicly, we began to feel more support. Indeed, my husband encouraged me to go ahead and share the news earlier than I would have since I was feeling overwhelmed.

At the end of that week, my husband and I were eating at a local restaurant. A large family came in and sat at the table behind our booth. Our son was asleep in his stroller, and we were visiting about life with triplets. At one point, we began to visit with the family. They were laughingly apologetic for their long table set-up, a result of so many children. Two grown sisters have six and four children respectively. One sister is married to an OB who was also sitting at the same table. The other sister works in his clinic. We said we needed to learn as much about large families as possible because we were about to have triplets. This big family was overjoyed to hear such news.

After a few minutes, the sister who is a nurse and works with her brother-in-law came over to our table and said something like, "Would you mind if I prayed for you? I feel the Lord's laid this on my heart, and I want to lift you up." Did we mind? Absolutely not! I did appreciate that she asked us and that should be common prayer etiquette.

Then this nurse, this mother, this sister, wife and Christian took our hands, and we bowed in prayer. It was full of encouragement and support for us, our family, and our babies. I began to cry. It was such a relief to have someone pray for us.

I find that many United Methodists are uncomfortable with such public prayer, either because they are shy or feel incompetent or because they are concerned others will think they are zealots of the worst kind, exclusive Christians. I think there is one more reason: we don't do it enough to feel that we are truly connected to God, and so it feels uncomfortable or artificial.

But it doesn't have to be that way. When the Spirit moves, don't be afraid or reluctant to consider offering a prayer for someone you know to be in need. Prayer should be an integral part of our relationship with God and one another. It is our conversation with God in private and as a community of Christians. Prayer for others in need--either done quietly by a hospital bed or at a crowded restaurant--is important ministry. Sometimes it's the best ministry of all.

Peace,

Rev. Betsy

Dinosaurs in the Nursery

2008-05-22T13:28:00.002-05:00

Our church has a team heavily involved in a church revitalization program called, "Connected in Christ." I have talked about the ministry enough that it may be familiar to some of you who read this post, but if not, let me briefly explain.

Connected in Christ provides the space, tools, and mentoring to help churches grow spiritually--with depth and in numbers. It asks churches to look at themselves honestly, decide who God is calling them to be, and then fearlessly tackle the obstacles holding them back, be it a lack of hospitality, clarity of mission, poor worship, self-centeredness, and other distortions of authentic church.

During a recent brain-storming session of our CIC team leaders, a new member of our church, John Owens, made an interesting observation. We were discussing the characteristics of QQUMC that set us apart from other churches. What makes us unique, and thus attractive to those beyond our walls?

One characteristic we all agreed on was the intellectual curiosity of our guests and members. We said things like, Our church is a thinking church. We take the Bible seriously, but not literally. Quapaw Quarter has an intellectual openness. We do not see the world in extremes of black and white, but rather gray. It is good to ask questions, for in questions, one finds a sense of humility: we do not have all the answers.

John, who recently volunteered to help out once-a-month in our nursery, commented that he'd never seen dinosaur toys in a church nursery. We all stopped a moment, then laughed! What John was suggesting is that our church members must believe in evolution and not see it in contradiction to the biblical witness or the power of truth in the Genesis creation narrative, the truth of who we humans are created to be. Most of us seem to assume that faith and science can walk hand-in-hand. This perspective means there is a place between secularism and fundamentalism. To put it another way, we can embrace the languages of science and culture without giving in to secularism (see "Christianity for the Rest of Us," by Diana Butler Bass).

My little boy loves extinct dinosaurs and his church family. He has books about dinosaurs, and he has books about baby Jesus. He has dinosaur toys, and he has Noah's ark. Two of his first words were: "Jesus" (it sounded like "shee-us"), and "amen" (it sounded like Ahhhh-men). I didn't even know he could say "amen," but he blurted it out one day in church sitting next to his Aunt Gayle after the Lord's Prayer.

I'd like to hear your thoughts about being a church that is unafraid to think.

Peace,

Rev. Betsy

What the Church Is Good For

2008-04-15T15:16:00.003-05:00

This past week, we lost a church member. Martha Johnson's husband Paul died a week ago yesterday. Paul was not active, directly. He liked to say he was getting in heaven on Martha's coat tails. As many of our members know, Martha is our food pantry manager. She's got some great coat tails. You see, Martha makes possible the incredible management of resources to feed thousands of hungry people each year. While Martha was doing that kind of servant work, Paul was doing stuff like going to Kroger for her, and buying tasty treats for those volunteers who eat lunch on pantry days. In other words, we had Communion before and during pantry hours!

We had a great Memorial service for Paul last Friday. That means we didn't do dirge songs, or paint Paul as some kind of saint or sinner. We simply celebrated his life in song, in pictures, in personal stories, and shared how much his family loved him, how much his friends thought of him, how unique he was, and how much God loves him. Along with the service, so many of our folks reached out to Martha and the family. Since then, she has told me several times how uplifting the service was and how she felt cared for. We have both wondered at what people do who do not have a church home during such times of loss and grief.

While I was at Subiaco a few weeks ago, I read a book titled, "Blue Like Jazz" by Donald Miller, a thirty-something guy who doesn't always like the church, but who loves Jesus. In his book, subtitled, "Non-Religious Thoughts on Christian Spirituality," Miller helped me see how it is that so many people can't stand the church. They think all Christians are judgmental. They think Christians don't care about the environment or the poor or social justice. They think most Christians are more interested in converting them than conversing with them. They think Christians are only aligned with one political party. They think Christians are not interested in science. They think Christians are not interested in thinking. They think Christians are only interested in erecting big buildings and serving themselves.

I can understand why those Miller writes about are sick of Christians, but I also know there are other options out there. Our church is one of those options, and some people drive a long way to participate in a church passionate about community activism and outreach, inclusiveness, intellectual curiosity, and love of neighbor, especially the least. These are people who don't necessarily like the church, but they do like Jesus because they have come to understand he cares about the poor, the environment, justice, compassion and the least.

We also comfort those who mourn. Jesus had close friends who experienced death, and since Jesus is in the life business, he continues to offer hope and new life. A lot of times that care still comes through the church, as it did last week when we mourned Paul, and yet gave him back to God. And as we did, we held Martha's hand, and we will continue to do so.

Even though we all have friends out there who don't much like "The Church" and can't blame them, the reality is that Jesus' Spirit works through this imperfect Body, if we let him. Think about the friends or relatives or acquaintances in your life who need love, hope, and to serve something greater than themselves. If they aren't in a church, invite them to ours. Please introduce them to our Jesus--the one we know and love. It's probably the one they haven't heard about yet. The one Donald Miller writes about. (For more about Miller's unconventional, growing church, go to imagodeicommunity.com.) Tell me what you think we need to do at QQUMC to make it more welcoming for those who don't like "The Church," but would really like Jesus.

Peace,

Rev. Betsy

A Word from Subiaco

2008-04-01T21:53:00.002-05:00

What's a United Methodist pastor who is also a Mom doing on a retreat at a Benedictine monastery?

Besides listening to the cows "moo" in the pasture below, I'm thinking, planning, and talking to other clergy about the future of the Big Church, and the future of our local church. These are the kinds of conversations I relished in seminary, discussions with professors and colleagues about the most important elements of faith, but I don't always have that luxury anymore.

Nowadays, I find that I spend quite a bit of time reading Thomas the Train books to my son. Written by an Anglican priest in the previous century, the Thomas stories are about "Really Useful" engines that work on the Island of Sodhor, a little spot of land with plenty of green pastures, farms, hilltops, and a bit of fog from the sea. My son and I are not the only ones who've been indoctrinated with Thomas. The other day, my husband said, "I can quit singing that song: 'There's two, there's four, there's six; there's eight, Shunting cars and hauling freight....'" We've also become quite religious about the morality of the stories, which coincides nicely with our Methodist commitment to being "Really Useful" Christians. In other words, when our son gets unruly or flat-out defiant, we can gently remind him he is not being a "Really Useful" engine. This is a child who kisses his Thomas book goodnight, so he understands what it means to be "Really Useful." He's devoted.

As I got closer to Subiaco and further from home, I felt like I was entering Sodhor. The cows dotting the landscape. The fog settling around the hills. There were beautiful trees beginning to leaf. There were bodies of water to cross. I began to feel as if I might be "Really Useful" and actually accomplish something quite luxurious and extravagant: a time apart from my personal and professional responsibilities in order to reflect creatively about my life, my ministry, and God's church.

And that's what happened today. I got to listen to a wonderful mind talk about evangelism. We got to think about how the Church will proclaim and equip disciples in a pluralistic, hostile 21st century world, no easy task. This work is absolutely crucial because, as a mom, I want my son to know Jesus. As a pastor, I want the next generation to become faithful believers. But it's up to us.

And Thomas, good as he is, cannot do it. Thomas cannot teach our children to be Christians. Nor can Barney, or Bob the Builder, or Spongebob, or Elmo. So, tell me, Friends, how are we to make disciples? How are we to teach the young? How are we to pass on the faith in a hostile world where soccer or baseball practice is more important than Sunday school or worship? How are we to teach that Jesus is King and Lord, instead of pop stars and million-dollar athletes?

I'm thinking about it. I'm praying about it. And I hope you'll join me. What do you think our church can do to make bold, passionate Christians?

Why I Chose a Joseph's Coat Climbing Rose

2008-03-25T17:37:00.006-05:00

Two weeks ago, our wonderful nanny came in and broke the bad news. She gave us a month's notice and told us that she had to move to Fayetteville to help her daughter, who is expecting her second. The first grandson is getting bit at daycare, and the prices are going up. It was too much for a good mother to stand by and watch her grown daughter endure.

After I recovered, I realized what an incredible gift this woman was able to give, and I rejoiced. (It took me a few minutes to recover, but I did eventually rejoice!) We have been so blessed to have two wonderful women share in caring for our son during his first two years. It has allowed me to continue my professional ministry without undue worry about his happiness, and I have grown to see how important it is for children to be loved by people other than their doting parents. "Mar-Mar" has given countless hours and attention, teaching our son some of his first words, helping him learn colors, explore the great outdoors, and, most importantly, letting him know that he can rely on the big people in his life to help him grow. How does one replace such a relationship? You can't, and that's where working mothers (and fathers) go nuts.

So, there we were, the weekend before Holy Week, signing up with online nanny services and posting our nanny job description on craigslist. As the applicants made contact, we began to breathe a bit easier, but my husband and I could not shake the sadness we felt at losing such an important part of our lives and our child's life.

The sadness, like that felt by those first disciples who followed Jesus, is a strong indicator that we have loved and been committed. When we feel sad, it is quite often the result of losing something or someone we hold precious. Holy Week is full of sadness: Jesus' last meal with his friends, his last everything, including his last breath. Just when we think we cannot tolerate one more part of this sad story, Mary meets a gardener who turns out to be Jesus. The disciples on that dusty road meet a stranger who turns out to be Jesus.

In other words, "Mar-Mar" has to leave our family now, but her love and the gifts she has given to us will never die. They live in every wonderful act of ministry she has offered and in the way she has brought out the best in all of us.

We've been trying to decide what gift to present her when she works her last day. She has admired some climbing roses in our front yard. Last year when a branch broke off, and she was able to root it, but she laughs that it will take forever for it to grow into a real rose bush with gorgeous blooms. Under her care, it will probably flourish. But just so we hope she will not forget us soon, we're sending her on with a Joseph's Coat climber (that's the name of our climbing rose with the showy orange and reddish blooms).

What else could a preacher give someone who has helped her tend to her most precious living flower?

Palm Sunday Gets a Ride

2008-03-03T15:17:00.002-06:00

My husband and I recently took our 21-month-old son to a cowboy-themed party for twin six-year-olds. It was really exciting. There were about forty kids running around jumping on a trampoline, climbing on a playground equipment, riding ponies, banging electric cars, and shooting hoops. We helped pass out deputy badges. (My husband played the part of sheriff). But we also did a lot of observing. Our kid's so much younger that we all--all three of us--just stared in amazement at the sheer chaos. It was like the Wild West. I wasn't sure any one was in charge!

I used to be in charge. I was organized. I exercised. I paid the bills on time. I got sermons done on time. I had time for everybody. Since becoming a mom, I've had to admit it. I'm not in charge anymore. That means I have to let go more. And, I'm not the "let go" kind of person, which means I'm always struggling to get my chores done and allow play time to happen. I've come to realize that play time is very important. It's important when you're 21-months, and it's important when you're, uh, well, when you're my age.

That's why I called up Miss Toby, the woman who was hired to bring all the animals to the birthday party. Miss Toby has a dance academy, trains dogs, has a petting zoo, and a farm. She also has a donkey, and I've been looking for a donkey for six years to play the part of the humble burrow who carries Jesus for his triumphant ride into Jerusalem the week before his death and resurrection. I finally found him, and he's one mellow donkey. Miss Toby was thrilled because she said everyone always wants the ponies, and the donkey never gets the starring role. I also found some lambs and bunnies to come join us on Palm Sunday and hang out in the courtyard. All our children can come outside, pet the animals, play, and then participate in the worship processional as we throw down the palm leaves before the donkey rides past.

Palm Sunday is partly the story about how Jesus let's go. He puts himself and his ministry in other's hands. They will have to choose whether he is their Messiah or their enemy. He lets go because Jesus trusts the living God. I'm not sure we humans are to be trusted, but Jesus didn't get caught up in basing his decisions on our lack of perfection.

Faith is about trust in God. It doesn't mean we don't do our part, but it does mean that at some point in the faith journey we aren't in charge of everything, every one, or every outcome. It means we recognize that in the ministry of God's creativity in the world, in the universe and in our lives, we aren't in charge ultimately.

And here's what I say about that. Whew!

Let's play!

Peace,

Rev. Betsy

Lenten Reading

2008-02-20T13:57:00.002-06:00

Church family,

I'm enjoying reading a new book by United Methodist Bishop, Robert Schnase. Schnase, the Missouri Area UM Bishop, will be in Arkansas in April for a workshop on church revitalization.

The book, "Five Practices of Fruitful Congregations" is a good one to read in Lent when we're thinking about change, as individuals and as the Body of Christ. I have been praying and meditating about how we reach out to persons who have been treated poorly by the church, or who think church is negative, or who have simply been turned off by bad theology and bad religion. I know there are people out there who don't even know they need the church or that the church can be a healing, positive force in their lives and the lives of their families.

As most of you know, I'm a mom with a 21-month old child. I have learned a lot about the needs of those who struggle to balance a larger family, work, play, and church. Right before maternity leave, I announced to the congregation that I didn't want them to call me about work. I had left a tight ship with good delegation. What many members heard is, Don't call me! Don't come by! Don't bother me at all! And so few did. One brought a meal. Some sent cards. Here I was with a husband out of town after the second week, anemic, recovering from major surgery, and learning to breast feed. I needed some church family!

After returning to work, I learned that many people in our church would have provided more support if only I'd asked, if only they'd understood that I did want them to stop by, offer help and bring food! I just didn't want to work! We are blessed to have a loving, caring, welcoming church, but communication and anticipation of needs is essential to being a "radically hospitable" church (Schnase's phrase).

But what about people who don't tell the church their needs? It is our task to discover those needs. An example cited in the book.

A small, rural congregation had attendance of about 100 with a mix of ages, mostly older adults. After seven years of growth under a new pastor, the attendance regularly reaches 150 or more. The congregation has built a new dining area and renovated a youth room. "The secret has been active hospitality that has become contagious throughout the congregation. For instance, when a visiting mom felt self-concious whenever her baby started to fuss during worship, the pastor met with congregational leaders and they decided that they valued having young people so highly that they had to do something to ease discomfort. To show support for the young mom, they bought a comfortable, well-padded rocking chair and placed it just behind the last pew of the small sanctuary. Word got around, and soon they had to have two more rocking chairs to accommodate the moms who found this congregation to be the friendliest around!"

What can you do to reach out to others who are not yet aware that a spiritual home can be a place of love, acceptance, and radical hospitality? What should our church do to reach out to others who need us? What could our church do to reach people who are not yet within our walls and welcome them?

Peace in this Lenten Season,

Rev. Betsy

Off to Oregon

2007-08-01T12:03:00.000-05:00

Next week, our family will be journeying to see my husband's family in Oregon.

"My Day Planner's Booked"

2006-11-07T09:44:00.000-06:00

"My Day Planner's Booked"
Acts 3:1-10
Sermon Series: Disciples Under Pressure
Rev. Betsy Singleton, Senior Pastor, Quapaw Quarter UMC
November 5, 2006
(Go to www.qqumc.org to subscribe to sermons)

Introduction

This is our final sermon in our stewardship series, "Disciples Under Pressure." In the first sermon we talked about our relationship commitments, and the pressures we face in making time for our families, friends, co-workers and church family. Last week we talked about our financial commitments and money pressures. Today, we're tallying up our hours to look at all the other time commitments that claim our busy lives. Let us pray.

The Overbooked Day Planner

Recently I'd volunteered to do a cake for a Friday night auction for a local March of Dimes fund-raiser. They asked you to do a theme cake, something that reflects your own interests. I'd thought of hiring this one out, but I have this wonderful decorative bundt pan called a cathedral cake. It's quite appropriate for a pastor. So, Thursday night after the baby was down, I cranked up my standby recipe for pound cake from Liza Ashley's "Thirty Years at the Mansion," to which I always add some almond. By about 10 p.m. it was ready to come out of the mold. I congratulated myself on being way ahead of the game. Ha!

I flipped the pan over, tapped it, and tapped it again, until I finally had to man-handle it. Eventually it came out, most of the cathedral spires sticking to the pan. I stood there at my kitchen counter stunned, the slow moaning began to resound from the kitchen to the den where my husband asked what was wrong. I had to confess I didn't grease and flour the pan. I'd used a non-stick coating spray, which proved indefensible against the nooks and crannies of a cathedral bundt. I went to bed exhausted and dispirited. My husband promised he'd go get more ingredients the next morning while I was nursing the baby. Gee thanks!

Early Friday I was able to put a second cake in the oven with instructions to Miss Jo, our baby sitter, on when to remove it. I had survived the ordeal! Around noon, I got a call from Jo. She said she wasn't sure whether to call, but the cake looked like it had collapsed from in the middle. I was astonished. I laughed, somewhat hysterically, I imagine. Well, I thought, maybe I can do something with it.

When I got home, sure enough, some kind of air bubble had popped, and the cake had pulled away from the sides toward the bottom. I tried to remove the cake, the bottom fell out. Next I tapped it to see if I could get the top out. Fortunately, it came out intact, although some of the nice brown coating still seemed to stick. Now, my cathedral cake looked like a miniature crown. It was a small cake, but maybe I could get by with it. If I sprinkled it with powdered sugar and called it "The Little Prince" cake, maybe it would work. There was a part of me that said to my self, "This is war." I looked at the clock. It was 3 p.m. and the cake had to be there by 6 p.m. The cake won.

One evening last spring Donna, our child birth instructor, asked us to draw a large circle on a sheet of paper. She asked us to divide our day into all our activities, chores and responsibilities, using the circle to represent 24 hours. After I'd divided up my little pie into all my life commitments, I was disturbed to see there was no way that I would have time for a baby. At eight months pregnant, I was unable to process how I could take care of a baby with only about 3 hours left in my waking day! Yikes!

Since returning to work, I'm still trying to figure that out, especially at peak times for baby, job and volunteer efforts. We all have peak times of busyness. You may have a peak time each week, trying to accomplish activities or work that must meet a deadline. We have a number of deadlines here at church, including planning and producing our worship service and everything that goes with that, including bulletins, powerpoint, music and sermon. I email about 25 – 30 people each week regarding the production of our Sunday service. Contrary to the cynical line that pastors only work on Sundays—it actually takes us six days to get prepared for the Sabbath!

Where Does the Day Go?

Where does the day go? Statistics tell us that we spend 9.1 hours per day on personal care, including sleeping. We spend 1.2 hours on eating and drinking; 1.5 on household activities, 0.8 hours on shopping; 1.8 hours caring for others; 5.3 hours working; 0.1 hours on education; 3.7 hours on leisure and sports including 1.8 hours of TV. Each day, on average, people spend 0.1 hours on religious activities and 0.1 hours on volunteering.

What's Time Worth?

You might be surprised that in Arkansas, we are ranked 43rd in the nation for volunteering. Only 26% of us volunteer, but interestingly, we are 11th in terms of hours volunteered, giving 52 hours per year. Those who commit, really commit!

That's good news for non-profits like our church. It means those of you who are regularly here in worship, about 170 people are our most active and participating volunteers. That means at our church, if we assume that we give at least half of our 52 volunteer hours to our church, 26 hours, we'd see 4420 hours of ministry time. And, if we put at least a minimum wage price on those volunteer hours, we'd have an annual salary of $22,542 attached to that time. One article noted that non-profits should use Independent Sector's estimate of $18.04 an hour as the standard measurement for the value of a volunteer's time, which, if we attached the 4420 hours of ministry time to that wage, we'd pay the equivalent of $79, 736.80 for ministry hours.

One of the problems we all have with increasing our volunteer hours is similar to the problem we have with financial giving: not every one has the same time resources to give. In addition, some do not know how important their time, be it a little or lot, would be to our church. We have not yet communicated how vitally important it is for each of us to find a ministry calling through our church, whether it is through a mission like our food pantry, just by taking time to bring brown paper sacks to church, serving on a leadership team, or finding one of the 69 ministry opportunities listed on this year's pledge brochure. We are a $350,000 plus organization with a historic building valued at over 5 million, and the only way we can manage these resources is through a relatively small staff and many more lay ministers like you.

My Day Planner's Burned Out

The last few weeks, our family has been glued to the news as the mid-term elections approach. Candidates are often interviewed with their supporters and volunteers in the background. With that in mind, I watched another animated Peanuts special, one I'd forgotten about titled, "You're Not Elected, Charlie Brown."

Linus Van Pelt is running for student body president and has taken a commanding lead until he stops talking about the issues and starts talking about The Great Pumpkin (DVD clip from 21.17 – 22.21. This season shows Lucy complaining about her candidate and how exhausting volunteering is). In this season, I'm sure Lucy's sentiment is shared by volunteers everywhere.

Clearly, there are barriers to giving time. Instead of having more leisure time in this age of the computer, we seem to have less. Most people I talk with just don't think they have enough time. Add to that people's frustration with other volunteers or an organization or plain old burnout.

In a time use survey, The Bureau of Labor Statistics provides insights into why people stop volunteering. 2% site burnout; 15% health, and the number one reason people stopped giving their time: 46% said they had no time to give! Other reasons include family or childcare, which is a barrier for 9%; 3% weren't asked; 2% were no longer members; 4% had no interest; and 3% had moved. If we look at burnout, family and childcare duties and no time, then we might conclude that 2 out of 3 people stopped volunteering because they were overbooked.

A Story about Giving Time

This morning's scripture reading comes from one of the first chapters in the Acts of the Apostles where we find the early church organizing itself for ministry not long after Jesus' resurrection.

Peter and John interrupt the activities of their growing movement to go up to the temple to pray one afternoon. It's kind of nice to think about stopping to pray each afternoon, isn't it? To stop being busy and just spend a few minutes centering one's self on our relation to God and neighbor.

Anyway, Peter and John encountered a man who was lame. Each day people carry this man to the gate of the temple so he can ask for money from those who go into the gate. I bet a lot of us don't always think about how churches get asked for money, but we do. We get asked to help with rent, prescriptions, gas money and all kinds of things people need, and some they don't.

So this man who was somehow paralyzed, sitting at the gate, asked Peter and John for money. Then Peter asked the man to look at him. I don't know why he asked him to look at him, but maybe he just wanted the man to really see him. The man was so accustomed to his surroundings and the people who came to pray every day, that he may not even have seen Peter and John, not really looked at them. You know, we get into habits and life is so busy that we don't really see what's going on. And so rather than throw some money in his cup, Peter stopped and looked at him, and asked him to look at them. The man looked at them, expecting to receive some money.

Then Peter said, "I don't have any silver or gold, but what I have I give to you; in the name of Jesus Christ of Nazareth, stand up and walk." The next thing you know, the man took Peter's hand and got up. Amazingly, the man jumped up and began to walk and even went into the temple to praise God, just like everyone else.

I don't think this is a biblical story that tells us that money is unimportant or that we don't need it. There are plenty of stories that tell us to give our money, including a story just two chapters away, about how awful it is when we hold back our financial resources from God. In that story Ananias and his wife Saphhira sell a piece of property and rather than give it to the common holdings of the church, they don't tell anyone and when it's discovered, fall down dead. My reading of that story is that selfishness can destroy us (See Acts 5).

But what about today's story? Perhaps one way to read this story is to take note about how important it is to help people who are paralyzed in some way not only to survive, but thrive. The charity the lame man got at the gate of the temple helped him survive, but was he thriving? Notice Peter doesn't offer money, even says he doesn't have any. I wonder if that's because Peter, along with Jesus' other followers, had already decided to pool their resources together. In any case, the man is already getting money from other passersby. The thing the man doesn't have is hope and community. And if you notice, the story isn't just about the lame man. It's about the religious folks who were coming and going from the temple. They noticed he was poor and couldn't make a living, but they didn't see his spiritual needs. They didn't notice him. It takes money to feed and clothe. It takes time to lift somebody out of poverty and despair.

Disciples Aren't Volunteers. Disciples Are Ministers.

So our story from Acts reminds us that disciples aren't just volunteers; we are ministers of the Gospel. We call on the name of Christ to bring hope and healing. It's a calling that takes time and money.

At this time, I'd like our ushers to come forward and distribute copies of our pledge brochure. Some of you may have gotten one last week, if you did, just give it to someone who didn't. Even those of you who are visiting today, I'd like you to see the variety of areas of service here at our growing church.

It is so tempting for some of us to say that we can't give money to our church, so we try to make up for it by sharing our time. It is also tempting for some to say that we don't have any time, so we'll just give money. Each of these approaches misses the point. All of us need to give. God wants 100 percent of our lives, and that means not only what we give within our church, but out in the world. Last week we looked at our check books to examine our priorities. This week we must ask ourselves, What's in our day planner?

This week was really, really hectic with our stewardship campaign going on, my husband's election coming up, lots of paperwork for our annual church meeting, that local fund-raiser, care for our baby, and then my mom's hospitalization. But, you know what? I was thinking to myself, What if I didn't have you or this place? What if church wasn't in my day planner?

Perhaps some of you heard that First United Methodist Church in Memphis burned last month. The church was the city's first organized congregation back in 1826 and recently had celebrated 180 years of ministry in Memphis.

As I was reading about the fire, I came across an article about a man named Earl Wilkinson. He has born in 1909 and has been a member of the Memphis church since he was 3; he holds the congregation's longest membership. He remembers when the church counted nearly 4,000 members and balconies were filled. He remained as attendance declined and the need for repairs on the aging building increased. He also volunteered for numerous programs and committees. In recent years he sold commemorative plates of the church to help fund-raise. When the fire hit, Earl said, "It was like having your best friend die. It just hit me so hard. It hurts, but I believe it will come back. It has to."

Today, we observe our 80th anniversary of this building and remember all the saints who have made ministry in this place possible. We also come to the table of remembrance where Jesus met his friends who were about to face losing him. He asked them to break bread together and to fellowship with one another at his table. He knew their loss would be worse than losing your best friend. It would hit them hard. So he asked them to take time to remember him every time they gathered. Take time to remember Jesus and your commitment to him. If you have to, put it in your day planner.

Thanks be to God.

Amen.

Copyright 2006 Rev. Betsy Singleton. All rights reserved.

Our dog was so glad when...

2006-08-03T22:41:00.000-05:00

.... the Dem-Gaz brought back Overboard.

Swaddled Penn

2006-07-24T16:12:00.000-05:00

The Miracle Blanket

2006-07-17T11:48:00.000-05:00

Friends,

During my pregnancy a friend of mine loaned me some maternity clothes for which I will be eternally grateful. She saved me some money and helped me look decent for work. The clothes belonged to her daughter who’d had a baby the year before. My friend has grown children and she had re-learned some new techniques about babies in becoming a grandmother, having been through the recent pregnancy of her daughter and a daughter-in-law. After bringing me the clothes, she presented me with a little plastic package that advertised itself as “The Miracle Blanket.”

My friend took the pale blue cotton blanket out of the package and laid it on my bed. It didn’t look like a blanket. It wasn’t nearly as cute as some of the matching receiving blankets I’d gotten. It looked more like the outline of a diagram for an airplane. It had wings and a sack at the bottom. She shared with me that since newborns are now encouraged to sleep on their backs because of SIDS (Sudden Infant Death Syndrome) they startle themselves with their reflexes. Remember that they’ve been quite confined in their mother’s womb for nine months, and especially confined the last couple as they grow. Thus babies need to be firmly swaddled. The miracle blanket is the tool to help parents make their babies comfortable for sleep time.

At the hospital where my baby boy Penn was born I watched the incredible art of swaddling by the nurses. What pros! They were terrific at bundling up the sweet newborns, making sure they were not just warm, yet did not thrash about and awaken themselves or hit themselves. Each nurse seemed to have her own technique.

When we got home, we soon had trouble wrapping our larger newborn in blankets. The plain one from the hospital worked the best for a little while, but was soon outgrown. All those beautiful blankets we’d been given were great for covering up, but not for swaddling. Finally, I pulled out the unusual “miracle blanket.” The wings nestle the babies’ arms next to their sides, then the sack holds their feet. The longer, additional arm wraps around several times to hold all in place. (If you need to see a picture, go to www.miracleblanket.com). Our baby looked like he was wearing a straight-jacket. Soon he was sleeping like a, well, a baby.

I’ve always liked hearing how newborn Jesus was “wrapped in swaddling clothes” (Revised Standard Version) or “bands of cloth” (as the New Revised Standard Version of the Bible translates the Greek.) Either way, Jesus was bundled up tight so he could feel secure and warm, and so his parents, I’ve decided, could get some decent sleep.

So friends, here it is July, and I’m thinking of Christmas. I can’t help it. God once came to us as a tiny baby who needed other people to take care of him, to make him warm and protected, to comfort him, to feed him, to change his diaper and to teach him about the big old world. What does that mean? It means that God knows what we need to thrive. We need love and care, even beyond the basic necessities of food and shelter. God grew up in Jesus to show us what love looks like. Now that’s a miracle blanket, the one I want to be wrapped in forever, and the one I want to share with others, including that tiny baby napping in the other room.

How about you? Do you feel wrapped in the miracle blanket of God's love?

Peace,

Rev. Betsy

A picture of Penn

2006-07-17T10:55:00.000-05:00

Friends,

Here is Bishop, just before we had to put him to sleep, helping me with Penn.

Saying Goodbye to Bishop

2006-06-20T20:12:00.000-05:00

Last Christmas, my husband’s Uncle Charles sent me a book titled “Marley and Me” about a family dog who was an ill behaved, but much-beloved Labrador Retriever. As a dog lover, I read the book quickly, until the final chapters. It covered the wonderful escapades of a dog who won the hearts of his owners as they learned how to cope with his often “bad” behavior and as they added three children to their family. Marley was their family, their friend, and he had a good, long life, but…. As I read on, I could see the handwriting on the wall. This dog book would end with Marley dying, so I avoided reading the ending for awhile because I knew it would be a big boo-hoo for you-know-who. Still, I loved the book because, as a dog person, I will always have a dog, no matter how hard it is eventually to say good-bye.

Most of you know that one of my loves is a big yellow Golden Retriever named “Bishop” –named for United Methodist Bishop Ken Hicks. Over eight years, Bishop has been my “big buddy” and truly the smartest, most beautiful and loving dog I’ve ever known. When I write my sermons, our “Bishie” is under my desk. When I go to bed, Bishop is under the night stand. When I shower, he lays by the glass door. When I leave to go to work, Bishop’s head is stuck through the fence, waiting for me to come back home. When I grab a leash, Bishop is there grabbing the other end. He is always there. During the last few weeks of pregnancy, he was always near, those big brown eyes reassuring me “this too will pass.” I had begun to talk to him seriously about the new baby and to tell him how he would have to help me train the newest member of our family pack. After all, he did a great job training our youngest dog Dottie.

As I write this article, our baby boy Penn is almost one month old and thriving. Last weight check at the pediatrician he was over 11 pounds, and I think I’m getting carpal tunnel in my hands from holding him. Slowly, we’re establishing some routines of sleeping, eating and diaper changing with some play time and bath time in there too. We hardly know what life was like before Penn arrived, except that our dogs remind us--that steady consistency of affection and companionship that makes even the greatest changes in life—like a newborn—more durable at 3 a.m.

Our family lost some of that constancy this week. When I came back from the hospital, Bishop had lost more weight, more than his normal summer shedding, and it became clear to our vets that he had more than some back problems. He had a fast-growing cancer in his chest that after two weeks didn’t respond to chemo, filling his lungs. Yesterday my sister came and watched the baby, and Victor and I headed off to say good-bye to Bishop. We held him to the very end. It was really hard, but then he had always held on to me when I was hurting or times were tough. It was an honor.

Dear Friends, life and loving relationships are gifts of the Creator to be held and treasured. Life goes by so quickly, and we are most often so worried about the little things in life, the tedious things that don’t really matter. Bishop was named for one of my favorite Christians, one who observed once that “God spelled backwards is ‘dog.’” Bishop was a great source of grace, letting me be me, warts and all. Although I wish with all my heart that my big yellow dog was here to ease my new parent anxieties, he taught me much about love, acceptance and humor. May I pass those Christian qualities—yes, humor is a Christian attribute!--to my new son.

Love and peace,

Rev. Betsy

Pictures of Charles Pennington "Penn" Snyder

2006-05-24T12:36:00.000-05:00

Post Your Congratulations Here!

2006-05-23T12:06:00.000-05:00

What Great News!

Rev. Betsy & Vic have a sweet, handsome 9lb 7oz baby boy. He is so cute! As of now, Baby Boy Snyder hasn't been named but we should know more this afternoon. As I was leaving the hospital he was having a Singleton/Snyder fit because he was ready to eat. Momma Betsy was getting ready to feed him for the first time. They are both doing great!