Moving Up?

I had to attend a Presbytery meeting tonight at "home" or what ever you want to call this place that I am, because while I feel it will always be home, it isn't quite home anymore. I was moving from inquirer to candidate in the ordination process, which I did manage to do, but we will get to that. We got a bit turned around on our way and I was worried about being lost and flustered, I mean I did dream that I got lost gave up and went swimming instead and we were very close to the water tonight. We made it with time to eat and ample time to settle into our pew for the long night of Presbytery ahead. As I sat in worship, I reflected upon how many parts of my life were represented in that room. There was the row full of women from various stages of my life in the church and of course my mentor/pastor, who we have no word for in our language to describe that relationship. There was a woman behind me who I think was in the throws of dementia or the like, she was muttering to herself and her caretaker would say shhhhh, just go to sleep. I believe it may have been a daughter caring for her mom but I am not sure. I do know the woman whose words I could not make out most of worship, I could understand clearly when we would say Amen, she would echo AMEN. It was really beautiful, Amen, familiar and enough for if even a moment to allow her some recognition. It reminded me of the depth of ministry but also of where I have come from. It reminded me of afternoons spent in nursing homes, with muttering residents all around, never really understood, longing to be heard.

A teenage boy rushed in and sat next to me, I shared my bulletin with him as if he were one of the kids I had known for years, and there with a stranger, I was reminded of all the kids and families I have loved and been privileged to serve so far. The small church building with a congregation who knows what it means to struggle reminded me of the church where I serve now, the resilience in both congregations is amazing. It reminds me of where I can and have found my strength in times that feel impossible. There was a commissioning for Triennium, which reminded me of two of my dear friends from seminary who are going to work there. The music was played by a Latin praise band, it reminded me of one of my favorite professors and his last sermon at my current institution of learning. It also reminded me of some good times we have spent celebrating life with friends. The church was there with all it's brokenness... reminding me that in accepting this call, I am at least partially accepting the call to help heal some of that brokenness. In those moments of worship I was grateful for all the people along the way who have cheered me on, ran a mile with me, or just plain told me when I was being stubborn.

As I reflected upon what I would say when it was my turn to talk about myself, something I really dislike doing (I know hard to believe if you read this blog since it's all I write about), I thought about how pivotal relationships are in my faith journey. From my parents, to teachers, friends, guides and even a few "precious teachers" as Barbara Brown Taylor put it her graduation address for this year's graduates.

Maybe it was because I wrote a paper on the relationality of faith and the Trinitarian God. It hit me, that is why I don't like talking about my faith journey, writing statements of faith or anything of the sort because they become all about me and on a good day about me and God and most of the journey has been about me yes, but in relationship to the people around me. I am rarely going it alone and at every key point there was someone there with me. As I thought more what I really wanted to say was something about all the amazing people I have met along the way. I didn't want to talk about me, I wanted to tell about how people shaped me, taught me things. When to talk about "my faith journey" it sounds so well, self centered, and really can I really proclaim Christ and be focused all on me?

I'll leave it there for my grand reflection. As far as what I said, I couldn't tell you I was slightly nervous and feeling unprepared. I am not sure it's ever the sort of thing you are prepared for. When I finished I felt I could have done better.  I didn't come out of the night completely unscathed but I did make it to the next step in the ordination process and I suppose that is what counts. The funny thing is I told my husband last night that I was worried that I would cry because I have been a bit more emotional since the semester ended and I have time to have feelings, I didn't, but I feel like I could and it is certainly not for the reasons I anticipated. For as much as I have felt how much I have changed in the last few days, somethings are still the same.

In these wee hours of the morning I am so grateful for those people who have brought me this far, walked with me, wept with me, encouraged me and so on. 

Be blessed by ALL the relationships you have in your life. 

Water, Holy Water

Greetings from our little family vacation in a state that isn't land locked. We have spent this week in a quiet water community in Florida. Just before we started our journey down here, I commented on how in Kentucky, it gets hot and summer arrives, but summer never really happens. I grew up on the Jersey Shore, not that deplorable show, but the real shore were summer days were spent on the beach and long warm summer nights were always spent with friends in the back yard or on the boardwalk. Summer for me is a way of life not merely a change in season. That way of life hasn't happened in my experience in KY, maybe it happens if you aren't living on a mostly empty campus and have friends who live off campus, but we really don't. There are less pools and no ocean so that makes it difficult.

Last night I sat out on my mom's dock doing a little reading for summer classes and that's when it hit me. Summer happens here, we have been out on the boat, sitting poolside, beach, barbeques, and family. There is something about that salt air that you get even the faintest hints of when you live near the water that is just life giving. I started thinking more about water and my deep connection to it and longing for it. When people ask how I like KY I almost always respond I miss the ocean. It's not just the ocean though, it's the bay, it's life in a "water community", it's the pools that weren't mine but were open to me any time I wanted to use them. It's safe to say I love the water. I love to be in the water or even just near the water. It gives me life...

That's when it hit me, maybe my connection with water is even deeper than that of my physical self. Maybe it is all the way down in the depths of my soul. I have always said I feel so close to God when I am near the water. It's the first place I can remember really experiencing God in a way that filled me with awe and wonder. This week as I spent time doing the things that are familiar and make me comfortable and happy I noticed how much water just makes me feel whole.

It isn't a new idea, Baptism uses water for a reason. That's when it hit me maybe water is so life giving to me, because deep down in some unconscious place it makes me remember my Baptism. My identity not just as a girl who loves when summer happens and all the water it brings but as a beloved child of God.

There is something Holy about water. 

Today I am grateful for water, what it symbolizes, the life it gives and the rest it brings.

Feces, Drug Deals & Broken Glass

Let me tell you about how much I love my job. I get to hang out with some amazing kids twice a week. On Sunday its with the younger kids, elementary school age and on Tuesday I get to hang out with middle school age kids. Of course I am teaching them as they go, mostly I find myself teaching them that they matter, which can't be overstated, I am convinced of it. The world tells them regularly that they don't matter and they aren't good enough. I might just be one girl, but I will fight everyday for them to know the world is made up of a bunch of crazy liars who are afraid of the power they will have when they believe in themselves.

Sunday was our last day learning on Sunday morning for awhile, so I pulled my ace in the hole, the lesson on Play as Sabbath. I went out Saturday evening and bought for the church a bunch of simple toys for out door play. Frisbee, wiffle ball, nerf football, bubbles, you get the idea. Then like the neighborhood I work in often does, I got the surprises I wasn't expecting. I knew all I had to work with for outdoor space was the parking lot which gets a lot of drive through traffic, so I took the kids to an out of the way corner. It was hot, especially with the blacktop reflecting the heat back at us. I wasn't out there for 2 minutes when my nostrils were filled with the distinct sent of human urine baking in the sun. I couldn't locate the exact location so I moved the kids away from where it was strongest. It also wreaked of dog poop which I couldn't find, Paul later told me he saw it. Then there was the broken glass and rusted razor blades. Now my safe spot was even smaller. The next surprise was that the kids didn't know what to do with a lot of what I brought out. I had to teach all but two of them how to play net less badminton. Most of them still don't know that it works better underhand. Then one of the birdies got stuck on top of the construction trailer, Paul later climbed on top of our van to get it.

Tonight we were supposed to go walk a new pedestrian bridge in town, but with bad weather predicted (it never showed up) we opted to have movie night instead. Tonight because it was a special night Paul and L got to come with me to work. L snuggled up with my single youth group member, maybe this is more of a mentoring relationship. We watched Monster's Inc. had dinner, snacks and ice pops. It was our end of the year celebration brought indoors. Half way through the movie I got up to walk around, I am always there at this time of night but I don't usually work in a room where I can see out to the main drag through the neighborhood. So there sat L and my student, sprawled out on a sleeping bag on the sanctuary floor, sharing snacks and watching the movie. Paul near by playing with his phone. I looked out the front window only to witness several drug deals at what the congregation calls "the drug house". All this with kids out there playing.

I wanted to throw up, something inside me got equally upset, angry and disappointed in the world. How is it that some children grow up in this neighborhood and others just 15 minutes away are at their private $150 an hour lessons for something or other? They have never seen a drug deal go down while the kids I work with are surrounded by it. I realize in that moment that my kid is one of those privileged kids who doesn't have to live with this in her face. She will eventually see it because she comes to work with me but she gets to go home to her safe home where people are quiet and not roaming the streets to find relief from the heat that is built up in their unairconditioned homes. She doesn't have $150 private lessons though, we try (and often fail) to keep her grounded in things that have no material worth.

My head started spinning, how does a neighborhood end up like this? What is the root cause of all this poverty? What will break the cycle for the next generation?  How is it that some people choose to deal drugs and others end up watching movies in church sanctuaries? How is it that some how some kids get tons of fruit and veggies and other healthy whole foods and others get stuck with a steady diet of boxed mac and cheese and hot dogs?

It was an odd moment with so many fleeting thoughts that reach down to my core. There are many surprises and frustrations even after a year of getting used to life in my new church/work home. I have another year with these fine people and challenges and all I wouldn't want to be anywhere else. Doing ministry is different now, I have to change and rework everything I have ever done before this point. It's alright though because I am doing what I most long to do, teaching kids they are loved, they matter and they are someone who can make something wonderful of their life. We don't often say much about God, we are busy with homework help and building trusting relationships but God is in it. You know small goals to start.

Today I am grateful for the work I am blessed to do and for all those who told me I was somebody before I could believe them and who even though the odds were stacked against me cheered me on and didn't write me off. You have given me unimaginable gifts that will be passed on until I leave this life.

Dear Future Parishioners

To the people who I have not yet met that I will serve as pastor in a few years. First I want to say that I think about you from time to time, I pray for you, even though I don't know who you will be. I spend my days studying all sorts of Presbyterian things, most recently it has been the creeds and confessions that are a part of our church's constitution. They are supposed to help us sort through our beliefs in times like these when we can't find the answers.

Why would a tornado hit a school full of children? Where is God in that? Why wouldn't God save the children?

I want you to know your future pastor is watching the images from Moore, OK and crying her eyes out this morning while holding her own daughter tight. We are snuggled on the couch with our dog, Trin, and we talked a little bit about the tornado. I am with you, in not understanding how God is in these moments when parents grieve for their children. Even with all this studying, all this preparing, all this growing in faith and in doubt, I still don't understand, I still cannot explain, why these things happen. I could talk about providence, free will and grace but that just doesn't seem proficient. None of them will make our pain go away.

What I do have is the hope found, for me, only in faith and I know that in these terrible times that God is there with those who grieve, even if they are so distraught and rightfully angry they don't want to acknowledge God, even if they cannot find a reason to believe in God ever again, I believe God cares for them deeply and is mourning with them.

Fellow sojourners, let's wrestle with our doubt, anger and unanswered questions together. We will be the better for it.

Today I am grateful that God is there in those moments even when we can't make sense of what is happening.

Saying Goodbye...

It is our first day of summer vacation we celebrated our last day of school on Friday. So from here on out its me and my lil lady having lazy summer days at least for a few days. We have had a very lazy morning sleeping in and not getting out of our jammies. As we lay in bed snuggling and playing I began to hear laughter outside. I didn't think much of it, it was graduation weekend and there are still lots of families that are here and getting ready to make their departures. We made our way from the bedroom to the living room where I had opened the blinds hours earlier, during a precious few hours while L was still asleep and I got to just be. Outside my blinds there was a goodbye in progress, laughter, hugs, probably some tears I couldn't see. I didn't mean to be all voyeur like on this group of friends goodbye, I just happen to live where my huge windows show me lots of things that happen on campus.

I heard the car doors shut and laughter faded into some sort of quiet, I might say a holy quiet, that quiet that comes when you are saying goodbye, or until we meet again. The sudden quiet caught my attention and I looked out the window again. There was one of my upstairs neighbors in her car, backing out of her parking space for the last time. Her friends formed a line on the sidewalk to see her off. I didn't have time to grab my camera, but the scene was beautiful in a very raw sort of way, I wanted to capture it from my "outsider" perspective. The driver was smiling and waving. Her friends stood, one with his shoulders just a little slumped, emotion in his body. One blowing kisses in a "goof ball" sort of way, emotion in his actions and humor. One stood watching, talking to the one who stood with his back facing the car, perhaps too painful for him to turn around and see her go. These are all my assumptions of course, I could be completely wrong. These aren't people I know very well although as I think about it, I wish I knew them better.

This is a group of people I have seen get into and out of my neighbors car so many times in the past few years. They aren't my close friends, we haven't shared meals, or many stories but in the way that they have come and gone over the last few years they have been a part of the rhythm that happens around here. Now our rhythm will change and we won't be able to put our fingers on it, because it's one of those things that you notice but not really. When it stops happening you will know something is missing but what?

This whole scene unfolded in a moment of time, it wasn't long before L pulled my attention from the window. In the past few months as this group of friends started to accept that their days together were limited, I have seen them post photos and work at making memories of the friendships they will cherish from seminary. I was touched by this moment that I just happened to witness when I looked out the window. What was it about this moment that wasn't mine that touched me?

Perhaps its that this weekend I shared my joy at seeing people's families arrive to celebrate with their graduates. Campus was full of impromptu graduation parties. Today the families are beginning to give way to the moving trucks. Our friends and neighbors who have graduated are beginning their journies on to the next place in their lives. And we are left with this space, for three months were the apartments around us are empty, where we mourn the people who we have come to love living with and we know there is the hope of the new people who will move in come the end of summer. In these first moments though and on those long summer days we are left with the empty space. In this moment this morning, I began to think about the people I will leave behind, the ones that have walked with me, the ones we celebrated holidays with, the ones who ate L's birthday cake. Then I thought about the ones I haven't gotten to know and I would like to know, some are already on their way to another place, but I have a year to get to know others. I shall make the most of this time. It wasn't lost on me either, that this afternoon my girl and I will stand in a similar way and wave goodbye to her very first best friend for the last time. After a weekend of playing with each other they will again have to part ways and learn to live with the space that is left.

May you be blessed this day with moments you didn't intend on witnessing.

I am grateful for these days with all the emotion and reflection they bring.

I had other plans...

I set out this morning to write a post about the Theology of Grilled Cheese that has been running through my head all week. I guess that can be your sneak preview for things to come. I had a few other ideas this week as well but I will get to them later.

Today has turned out to be more difficult than I imagined it would. I made it through Christmas alright but today is Donna's birthday and it hit me hard that she isn't here. I guess it's time to turn off all the automatic reminders on my calendars for her birthday. All week I have gotten little beeps that indicated I needed to mail her card or call her.

L and I were talking about Aunt Donna today and heaven. I know that what I told her about heaven would make many theologians cringe but today I am not a theologian I am a mom trying to explain to a little girl where her Aunt Donna is. When talking to my three year old telling her that Aunt Donna is somewhere where she is one with the universe or on some higher plane doesn't work. She is with God in heaven up by the clouds works. It's tangible and it's things she understands, she can see the clouds she knows they are in the sky. As we were talking she told me she wants to go on an airplane to see Aunt Donna in heaven and go in the pool and on the boat like we did at Uncle Dennis' house this summer. So then I replied only angel wings can take you to heaven and that we could still visit Uncle Dennis and do all those fun things. I don't know if it was the right thing to tell her. I know it wouldn't work to pass an ordination exam but sometimes kids just need answers they can understand. She has her whole life to work through her own idea of what heaven is.

So here it is my sister-in-laws birthday and I can't call her to wish her a happy 45 birthday. I decided yesterday that perhaps I needed to ritualize this day.  I plan on buying some flowers in her memory and then some sort of store bought confection because Donna loved sweets but never really made them, always bought them or asked me to bring them. I find myself thinking of my niece and nephew as they face their mom's birthday with out her and I remember how hard all those first and second year dates are right after you loose a parent.

I am just a lot sadder than I thought I would be. I think about a few years ago how we celebrated her 41st birthday because there wasn't a big deal made of her 40th. I am glad we did, I am glad on that odd year we gathered for a meal and cake and laughter. I am glad my brother didn't put it off until 45 came. I am glad it happened before we moved away. I am happy that L is old enough to have some memory of Donna because Donna was like this awesome bonus person in my life, part mom, part sister, part friend.

Today I am grateful to have had Donna in my life since I was just a child, I am grateful for all of the moments we celebrated together in life, I am grateful for all the birthdays we spent together, for the children she has left in the world, for her life.

May you be blessed by celebrating the odd numbered birthdays and just the plan old days of life.

Beyonce

Let me start by saying, I like a good deal of Beyonce's music. She is talented, she can sing, she has got some moves and she has a banging body. I thought her response to the whole lip syncing controversy was fantastic. I could care less if she lip synced because I know it is a common practice. Last night her wardrobe choice annoyed me and like so many others I took to social media to rant about my opinions which particularly on Twitter got a ton of passive aggressive push back. One of those tongue in cheek moments that didn't get translated right on strangers screens, I said I didn't need the soft core porn and people took it like the gospel, it was indeed my sarcasm. Saying Beyonce needed to put some clothes on didn't mean I was calling her a ho or anything like it. So I am going to take a few minutes to explain my of view of her attire (which really it isn't limited to her many stars share the lack of wardrobe).

I have a little girl and I have a hormone disorder. This disorder doesn't really show itself if you don't know me, other than it causes me to carry extra weight. I will not deny that I am a large girl, I live in this body every day. I don't have a sign that says my hormones are really messed up and there is no magic pill for me to get them back in line, I don't actually eat nothing but ice cream and candy every day. Why would I even think I need a sign that says that, well because I can't take my daughter out for an ice cream cone with out someone giving me a look like yep fat chick eating ice cream typical. Of course in school I got picked on, I have also heard people mutter "fat people" under their breath in stores, I have been made fun of in line for a ride at Disney world as I stood waiting with everyone else to ride the train. When I was pregnant with my daughter, at the very end of pregnancy I had some pain in my hip, my husband dropped me off at the front of a store while he parked and when he got out her heard two women, "pregnant or just fat". He wanted to smack them, I said you should have said both. I am not telling you this because I want you to feel bad for me or because I want you to join me in some fat acceptance crusade. Neither are of interest to me. What I worry about is that my daughter might have the same hormone issues and that one day her thighs might rub together when she walks and that she will start to hate herself because of it. You see I managed to survive with out hating myself, some how despite everything society has told me about my worth because of my body, I have managed to say no, no I have value for many other reasons. Maybe it was because I was raised by an incredibly strong woman who constantly told me that I was both smart and beautiful. I was one of the lucky ones because my period of self hatred was short lived.

I have spent the last 8 years working with young girls who I have heard hating on themselves because their bodies aren't perfect. I nearly cried as I listened to 12 year olds talk about how fat they were and how they couldn't eat anymore at a church fund raiser. I have watched girls hurt themselves to be what society has told them is beautiful. I have watched girls forget they have talent or brains because they are in pursuit of the only thing they think matters, approval from their crush or society. I am terrified that this will one day be my daughter and that as her mother I won't be able to find the right words.

I wasn't annoyed last night because Beyonce was sexy or sexual. I am far from uptight about sexuality. I thought her outfit was fine for a concert, just not broadcast TV. Next week the Grammy's are on, I know better than to put the TV on while my girl is still up because my girl will likely see things that I don't want her to see. So maybe it was that I was caught off guard. I do not have some underhanded Christian or conservative agenda. The only agenda I have is making sure my daughter knows she is so much more than a body and that her body is valuable even if it isn't perfect.

I got irritated because here is a woman that is talented, smart and still leaving little to the imagination. To me it said being smart and talented isn't enough you still have to show off what you have. Maybe I am just getting old, maybe it's parenthood that has me so on edge. It just makes me fired up when I think of the world telling my daughter no matter how beautiful her heart is, how smart she is, compassionate, talented, creative, kind, loving, and so on that it will never be good enough because she has to have a nice body and if that nice body weren't enough, she has to strut around showing it off because then she will have the approval of all.

Today I am grateful that I grew up with a very strong woman who knew enough to tell me I was smart, talented and pretty.

Thanks Mom!