Advent Devotion - Angela, Guest Blogger

Here is the devotion Angela wrote to celebrate advent with Hollywood UMC this year:
Luke 1:26-38

"The angel said to her, ‘Do not be afraid, Mary, for you have found favor with God. And now, you will conceive in your womb and bear a son, and you will name him Jesus. He will be great, and will be called the Son of the Most High, and the Lord God will give to him the throne of his ancestor David.’ "
- Luke 1:30-32

Your heart starts pounding, your hands get clammy, your stomach starts to churn, and your thoughts go to a deep dark place you usually push far, far away. You’re all alone, no one can understand what you are feeling, this is more than you can handle. We have all experienced it, we have all felt it in our own way. Fear. Fear of failure. Fear of losing someone. Fear of harm. Fear of making mistakes.
In this passage Luke is describing a frightful experience for Mary. Not only is she going to have a baby out of wedlock, but for millions of people he will be the most important person to ever walk the Earth. She faced losing her fiancé, exile from everything she knew, and so much more. 

The beauty of Mary being chosen by God to bring his Son into the world is in her reaction. She doesn’t react to the fear that has to be going through her body. She doesn’t flee, wail against the injustice of what could happen, or even voice her fears. She simply says, “Here am I, the servant of the Lord; let it be with me according to your word". It’s as if Mary immediately understood what was being placed upon her shoulders and knew that her faith would sustain her. 

How many of us can say the same. That being faced with seemingly unbeatable odds we immediately remember that our faith will sustain us. God is with us, every moment of every day just as he was with Mary. We need not fear but have faith. 


Prayer for Today: Heavenly Father, be with us today and always to take the fear away. Help us to feel the peace Mary felt on that fateful day. In your name we pray, Amen.

A little Newsroom inspiration

It was The American President that first made me sit up and take notice. And then I found Sports Night and followed it as ABC moved it all over the schedule. And then...The West Wing. All before the era of DVRs or DVDs or watching TV on the internet. I watched every episode of WW live on Wednesday evenings. And then, back when Bravo played it over and over in repeats, I watched it until I could recite lines. I have the script books for the first two seasons. And I vowed to buy a DVD player when they put the WW out on DVD. And I did.

When people ask who my favorite writer is I'm honest. I have two. Aaron Sorkin and Anne Lamott. Because to me, screenwriting is writing. One of the toughest types of writing. And the type that so many people, if you do your job well as a screenwriter, never realize is there in the first place. Because your writing becomes the words of actors who bring to life the message you're sending. It's pretty heady stuff.

So when I got the email that the Writers Guild Foundation, the nonprofit arm of the screenwriters union, was hosting An Evening with Aaron Sorkin, I snatched up tickets. Not only would we get to hear from Sorkin himself for over an hour (I've heard him speak before but always as part of a panel and it's never enough) but we'd get to see the series finale of his HBO television show The Newsroom a week before it premiered on television. A. Maze. Zing.

So Monday evening Angela and I headed to a theater in Hollywood and settled in. I spotted familiar faces in the crowd with us, writing teachers I had at UCLA, fellow emerging screenwriters, even a few professional ones (Angela totally geeked out when Breckin Meyer sat down a few rows behind us with his popcorn, see -- celebrities, they really are just like us). They showed the series finale, I tried hard not to cry too much in that crowded theater, and it was amazing. As all of Aaron's work is.

Then he came out. And he sat down and he started talking. And he talked for over an hour. And he made us laugh. He elicited some gasps and some squeals of delight from the audience of mostly writers. But what struck me most was that it really was a conversation about writing. One writer to another. Yes he has Emmys and Oscars and presumably Brinks' trucks full of gold coins but that night? In that room filled with writers just like himself, Aaron was just one of us.

He talked about how sometimes getting dressed is an accomplishment for the day. How sometimes at the end of the day it's a win to say we made it through the day, finished it and we're moving on. Even if we've got nothing tangible to show for it. He talked about being on deadline and feeling as if that blank page would never be filled. He talked about anxiety and distress and fear. And I just kept nodding and smiling and thinking, he gets it. He gets what I've been feeling every day for over six years. Since I moved to Los Angeles. He gets it. That's exactly how I feel.

He's self deprecating and honest and funny and exactly how you hope your idols will be when you meet them in person. And most of all? He's a writer. Everything he said, he brought back to writing. It was never about producing or acting or directing. It was always about the writing. And I think that's what makes him Aaron Sorkin.

It was a lovely night. I left smiling and recharged and ready to take on Hollywood. I left thinking I shouldn't beat myself up when the page is as white at the end of the day as it was at the beginning of the day because that happens to Aaron too. And I left salivating just thinking about what he'll do next.

Thank you for The American President, Sports Night, The West Wing, Studio 60 on the Sunset Strip, Moneyball, The Social Network, The Newsroom and everything else you've written that I've loved, Aaron. But mostly? Thank you for being an inspiration to this writer. To me.

Advent Devotion

Here is the devotion I wrote to celebrate advent with Hollywood UMC this year:

Isaiah 11:1-10

In the Message version of the Bible the section of this passage that discusses the wolf dwelling with the lamb is subtitled “A Living Knowledge of God”. The word living means not dead but it also means active or thriving or strong. There’s quite a chasm between the words not dead and active. And I think sometimes that’s where my knowledge of God, and my faith, lies. In that chasm.

I go to church on Sundays. I volunteer on Tuesdays. That’s about four or five hours a week when I’m actively living out my faith. When I’m practicing my spirituality or putting my beliefs into action. So what about those other 163 hours a week?

“The wolf will romp with the lamb, the leopard sleep with the kid. Calf and lion will eat from the same trough, and a little child will tend them.” – Isaiah 11:6 (The Message)

A little child will tend them. Will a little child also tend me and if so, how? During those hundreds of hours when I’m not consciously living out my faith, how will I be tended? And how can I help tend?

These are important questions. Not just for the advent season but for our lives 365 days a year. That little child, He is with me always. He is with me on Sunday mornings. He is with me at Tuesday lunches. But He is also with me in the dark of the night when I cry. Or in the early evening hours when I am cross. He is with me when I expect Him to be and when I least expect Him to be. He is with me always. He is tending my faith. He is tending me. Even when I am in that chasm.

That chasm may be disappointment or grief or disillusionment. It may be darker than we can ever fathom. It may be just light enough to fool us into thinking it’s not a chasm at all. Regardless of its depth or breadth, that chasm is there. And it’s our choice to determine to have a thriving, active, strong faith. Despite the chasm. Because that little child is tending to us. Tending to us always.

Prayer for today: Lord, help us to have a living knowledge of you and your love. Thank you for sending your son in the form of a child to remind us of that love during the Christmas season and every day of the year. Amen.

A week of Thanksgiving

Last week was a long one. And a short one. Isn't that how vacation weeks go? While not technically vacation for me, it was for Angela so I went along for the ride. Plus, I was still experiencing the cough from hell so really, not much was gonna get done at the desk. 

It was a long week because it was a holiday week and Angela and I weren't with our family. Yes, we have each other out here on the opposite coast but it's still tough. Knowing everyone's back home, together. But we pushed through. There were only a few moments of sadness on Thursday when we were racing home to eat a deli turkey sandwich after having spent a lovely morning at the zoo. Those moments are natural and I think it's okay to experience them. The sadness and longing makes the next time we are all together that much more special.

But the week was definitely a good one overall. We kicked it off with two plays -- KINKY BOOTS at the Pantages and HANDLE WITH CARE at the Colony. We spent time crafting with a friend. We bought over a hundred oranges to share with the homeless guests on Tuesday.

And on Wednesday we wound our way through the fashion district and downtown to the outskirts of the county where we found the L.A. Food Bank. And yes, my arms are still sore.

Thursday we did the zoo and chatted with some friends who turned us on to the idea. We also made Cuban food and watched a WEST WING marathon. We had pumpkin pie and talked to mom and dad and the day progressed like any other. It wasn't the same as Thanksgivings I've had in the past but my life isn't the same. And that's okay.

In less than two weeks I'll board my flight for the mitten (please have snow!) and enmesh myself in Christmas preparations and family activities. I'll wrap presents and bake cookies and spend time with old friends and new. I can't wait.

But, I'm still in Los Angeles. And I'm still in the midst of that week of Thanksgiving. We took Henry Huggins, our bear for the kids at the pediatric AIDS clinic, to church last Sunday. We dressed him in Angela's hand-knit scarf and put him down front in the sanctuary with all the other newly dressed bears. Angela likened it to the first day of school. Nervous to leave Henry with all the other kids, looking to see what everyone else is wearing. But most of all, those moments smiling at all the bears reminded me that the week of Thanksgiving can't end. Not yet. Not ever really.

While I wasn't with my family on the holiday last week, I was with people who love me. I wasn't alone. I wasn't homeless. I wasn't hungry. I wasn't diagnosed with HIV or cancer or something else that NyQuil can't cure.

I was loved. I was cared for. I was spoiled really. There were meals out in restaurants and movies and plays and Christmas presents bought. There was frozen yogurt and laughter and fun. There wasn't much bad at all.

I have to remember to have that sense of thanksgiving continually. To have that spirit with me in the valleys as well as the hills. I want to keep Thanksgiving with me this Christmas and beyond...