Another Sermon Manuscript for ya

This is a manuscript for a sermon to be preached the week after Easter next year. It's based on John 20:19-31. Enjoy!!

When it was evening on that day, the first day of the week, and the doors of the house where the disciples had met were locked for fear of the Jews, Jesus came and stood among them and said, “Peace be with you.” After he said this, he showed them his hands and his side. Then the disciples rejoiced when they saw the Lord. Jesus said to them again, “Peace be with you. As the Father has sent me, so I send you.” When he had said this, he breathed on them and said to them, “Receive the Holy Spirit. If you forgive the sins of any, they are forgiven them; if you retain the sins of any, they are retained.” But Thomas (who was called the Twin), one of the twelve, was not with them when Jesus came. So the other disciples told him, “We have seen the Lord.” But he said to them, “Unless I see the mark of the nails in his hands, and put my finger in the mark of the nails and my hand in his side, I will not believe.”

A week later his disciples were again in the house, and Thomas was with them. Although the doors were shut, Jesus came and stood among them and said, “Peace be with you.” Then he said to Thomas, “Put your finger here and see my hands. Reach out your hand and put it in my side. Do not doubt but believe.” Thomas answered him, “My Lord and my God!” Jesus said to him, “Have you believed because you have seen me? Blessed are those who have not seen and yet have come to believe.” Now Jesus did many other signs in the presence of his disciples, which are not written in this book. But these are written so that you may come to believe that Jesus is the Messiah, the Son of God, and that through believing you may have life in his name.

You might say that we are a busy people. Not just here at the seminary but in the city. Especially in this country. So that means that we miss events. We can't travel to them. Or we've made other plans. We get sick. Or perhaps we just don't want to go.

Which happens right? But then that just makes it ten times worse when you hear about how AWESOME the party was. “You should have been there!!” which is inevitably followed by “You'll never believe what happened!” That's when the stories start pouring out. Who was there. What happened. All the that's what she said's... he said's. Ya know, the scoop. The details.


And then BAM – instant blues. Even if our reason for not going was completely justified, we might still feel just a bit sorry for ourselves. Why'd we have to miss THAT one?

Well I think Doubting Thomas could join in on our pity party. He could lead it! After all HE missed the event of the season. THE party. JESUS himself showed up and he missed it.

Can you imagine the disciples clamoring around Thomas the next day? “You should have been there!! You'll NEVER BELIEVE what happened!! We have seen the Lord!” And there's Thomas looking from face to face to face, waiting for them to crack up in laughter. They can't be serious. It couldn't have been Jesus.

Of course the beautiful irony is that after their “You'll never believe” is that fact that Thomas DOESN'T believe them... Even after all the “No, seriously. It was Jesus! He showed us his hands and his side! It was HIM!” Thomas doesn't believe the second hand story. If he were us, he'd have asked for a picture. Then again, if they had a picture, he'd have suspected it was photo shopped. Nothing is going to convince him.

After all, this isn't just some guy showing up to the party off the street. This is JESUS who was just crucified. Who is dead, right?? I mean, there's this rumor that Mary found the tomb empty and then saw Jesus... which we could believe.... except that no one really believed her when she told them either...

Okay, so... let's just say that Thomas does believe, at least a little bit, that Mary and the other disciples are telling the truth. These are fairly trustworthy sources. They don't usually like to trick him. They seem pretty serious about it.

Okay fine, what you are telling me is true. I believe your story. Jesus showed up at your party. But when does it become REAL for me? I believe that he's alive but, well, when do I get to see him? Where is Jesus NOW?

It's an honest question. One that we certainly ask today. Thomas asked it then of his friends. Thomas asked the question we could not and said what we might be afraid to say today. “Unless I see the mark of the nails in his hands, and put my finger in the mark of the nails and my hand in his side, I will not believe.”
What would happen if we said that today? What kind of challenge would that be?

Then again, perhaps we just say it in a different way when we ache with loneliness for a god that we can touch. Something to hold onto and claim, “this is my lord and my god!” Someone to run to. Someone to look at. Someone to reach out and touch.

So I wonder what's behind Thomas' doubt. Perhaps it isn't about a lack of faith in a risen Lord so much as it is a longing for the real presence of Jesus.

And while we are still reveling in the mystery of the resurrection, we might miss the simple fact that Jesus keeps showing up. Not just for Mary. Not just for the disciples the first time. Jesus keeps showing up for people. First Mary. Then the disciples.... And then... then Thomas. Doubting Thomas.

But today... well, today we are confronted with a tomb that has been empty for about 2,000 years. So we are left wondering if we still have Jesus. We are left wondering if Jesus is still showing up.

Each week in Sunday School, we go around asking the question “Where did you see Jesus this week?” The answers are usually that we see Jesus in a friend or a mom or dad. But one of the girls, Kacie, told us that she saw Jesus when she was playing basketball in her back yard. She wasn't very good at sports. He told her to relax and breathe. She did. And she won.

Kacie was beaming as she told us this. Couldn't wait to tell us. The unshakable reality that Jesus was with her in that basketball game rested upon her face in an ear-to-ear smile. Her excitement was palpable. Jesus showed up.

So where did YOU see Jesus this week? Where is Jesus showing up today? Because the question is no longer “Does Jesus still show up?” but “where?” And if Jesus is doing what he's done before, he's showing up in locked rooms.

(Pause) And.... He's coming to US. HE is coming to US. Jesus is showing up in the places where we already are.

What's more? Jesus keeps showing up. In the present tense. Today.

NOW. (walk to table)

HERE. (point to table)

And perhaps like Thomas, our response will be a simple, “My Lord and my God....!”

And though Jesus challenges Thomas by asking if he has believed because he has seen, it still seems abundantly clear that Jesus showed up anyway. Because it really isn't about Thomas' doubt. It's about how steadfast and faithful and loving our Lord is to us. Over and over.

The story even ends by saying that more things happened that weren't written down. “But these are written so that you may come to believe that Jesus is the Messiah, the Son of God, and that through believing you may have life in his name.”

So we might say that the stories keep happening. We might keep looking to see where else is Jesus showing up for us? Perhaps in more locked rooms. In the middle of back yard basketball games. At the table. Or in the middle of us now. Jesus keeps showing up.

Amen.

Life in Slow Motion

I think "Life in Slow Motion" is actually the name of a David Gray song. Haha. Apparently I compose things David Gray style even when I'm not musically talented! Anywho....

It has been quite week, friends. Last Sunday I contracted the plague. Well, some version of flu/cold/seasonal allergies really, but we all dubbed it the plague around here as it was myself a few others that had it. Terrible. Ran the gauntlet of ailments. "A sampler platter of illness" as one of my friends said. All that lingers now, fortunately, is a ear ache and a little congestion. I can handle that! Monday and Tuesday were horrible....

But I had a community that completely folded around me so I count myself incredibly blessed. I think the only reason I enjoy living alone so much is that I live alone... in the middle of a community. I have my own space... in the middle of a bunch of other people's spaces. It is superb.

Alas, I missed an entire week of classes. I did get to watch Glee, however... so all was not lost. But now I am peddling to catch up so I can go celebrate Thanksgiving with my dad's side of the family up in New York. I even get to see State Radio open for 311 with Sibling. Can't wait! But again, that's a week away. A LOT is due this week before next week arrives.

What else random can I share...

I preached at church this morning! It went pretty well. The first time I preached in a church. COMPLETELY affirming. I know it has been affirming to preach in my preaching class (in my preaching lab which is only 8 people thank you Jesus), but this was a whole new thing. Pastor introduced me which served to calm my nerves considerably. It felt like I was just a girl called to preach the Word. Just a sister in Christ sharing some good news. *Sigh* So life is pretty good.

Also, I'm seeing someone! (So life is great, really.) That's the other new development since I posted last. If you are around, you should meet him. If you aren't, you should... come visit me and then meet him. Haha. I'll not share massive details about him apart from saying that he is fabulous and makes me smile all the time. He also helped take care of me when I had the plague this week. What a guy...

I'll try to post a thoughtful entry later but this was simply to catch you up on my journey. Have a fabulous week blog world.

Self Help Books

So generally, I'm not a fan of self help books. I'd rather talk to a human. I'd rather just live life and see what happens instead of taking someone else's experiences as proof.

I say that to say that my wonderful mother keeps finding and giving me these amazing books on dating that I can't help but devour despite my skepticism... because they're so amazing.

So for your joy and because it is worth rereading, here's an excerpt from "If the Buddha Dated" by Charlotte Kasl that seemed to follow up my last post so nicely.

"Giving and receiving help us enter the river of spirit that connects us to each other. To give to others is to feel the joy of creation spilling from us. To receive is to be humbled, to shed our ego and allow another person to penetrate our barriers. We let them know they matter to us, they affect us. Our receptive heart becomes a gift to the giver. When love pierces our hearts, tears may rise because love flushes out anything that is buried." (ch. 28)

The book does add a little much of the "river flowing" for my tastes, but it says so much good stuff that I'm happy to indulge the author.

The Task of Being Loved

Do you have any idea how hard it is for me to be loved? After the discovery this summer that much of what I first present to the world is a performance/mask, I have been putting a lot of energy to present an authentic self to the world for better or worse. I've been delighted to discover it takes a little LESS energy to do that as opposed to presenting the mask. Hooray.

So I've been reflecting on why it is so hard for me to be loved. I know without a doubt in the world that my family loves me and always has. It's all the others. The rest of the world that causes me great doubt.

So it was especially interesting for me to revisit my high school. In many ways, this first real community of people who's opinion I cared about (though it most likely started in middle school). In that place, I felt like next to nothing. I wasn't part of the popular crowd. I didn't get asked to parties. I didn't sit with the cool kids in the circle. I had my few people and I knew they loved me. I told myself that the rest of them didn't matter but I assure you it hurt every time I heard about another party or event I had missed out on. I hurt every time that group cracked up in laughter at an inside joke that I didn't get. I didn't really like high school.

Theater was one of the redeeming things for much of the time. That sort of fell apart senior year, though. One of my best friends and I essentially had a falling out. My other best friend was off at college already. Both of the boys I liked were dating other girls. Let's just say I was ready to go to college...

College, then, was a chance to "reinvent" myself. I was embraced by all these fabulously nerdy friends in my honors program. We had beautifully silly deep conversations about God, we fought over politics, we bonded over movies and music. Still, I felt like I should know more politics, more culture, more literature, MORE. How had I not heard of THAT movie? Read THAT book? Why didn't I know who the ruler of that country was? I was behind intellectually. THAT sucked.

I'm sure that was part of the reason I took a year off before going onto seminary. Took time to decide just who I was. I started working at the coffee shop and met people that I adored. They even liked me. We got along smashingly. We buckled over in laughter. Had heaps of inside jokes. It was bliss. It was my place.

Still, due in part of the outgoing nature of the barista position, my coworkers got worried when I wasn't that bubbly. What was wrong? I remember one particular day when I was feeling neither depressed nor bubbly and was simply mellow. Everyone asked me what was wrong. I knew then that something WAS wrong if I couldn't be NOT chipper for a day without causing a stir.

Seminary was next. I was worried before I even got here that this would be a place of snobby do gooders who never drank, swore, or moved a toe out of line. I am happy to report to my bliss and ongoing relief that this place is filled with humans like me. People who are struggling through their own stuff. People who are real. Tragically, I still pretty much only knew how to be chipper, bubbly, susie sunshine. I was presenting what I thought people wanted.

This is a good moment to add an aside. All along I've had amazing friends that have gotten past that surface level and in many ways, they have saved me. Accepted me. Loved me.

But, CPE happened. It challenged all the ways I was presenting a mask, giving a performance, or trying to be what I thought everyone wanted me to be (including what I thought I SHOULD be). It was a really, really hard lesson. See my post in the midst of it? This one? Yeah, that was heart open honesty right there.

And in a sense, I've been trying to keep my heart that open (that raw?). Loving the intricacies that make up me. The randomness. The silliness. The seriousness. The sarcasm. The holy. The profane. The writer. The singer. The bum. The go getter. The child of God.

Still, I find it remarkable when others like me, want to be around me, love me. So abundantly blessed that I just shake my head and wonder why.

Think God's trying to tell me something??

The Past and Present

I think I could start every post with an apology for not posting more often. But you'll forgive me dear readers, right?

I just got back from a lovely trip south for good friends and family. One of my good friends got married last weekend and I got to be there in FL to celebrate with him! I'm only jealous I can't get to know his beautiful bride more. I did get to spend some fabulous time with my coffee shop friends (they're family - let's be honest). Then we traveled back up to Chattanooga so I could have a day or two to visit with everyone else I love there. The problem is I never seem to have enough time. This was also the case with my Nashville visit but I did get lots of quality sibling time and a full day with each of the parents. Splendid.

One of the more extraordinary parts of my visit to TN was the fact that I did a blast through my past by visiting my college, visiting my high school, and driving past my middle school. Really enjoyed visiting the high school as I went to see two of my favorite teachers. Got to catch up with them. It was seriously strange walking down those hallways with all those little bitty kids though! Was I that small? Yes, yes I'm sure I was. I felt so grown up THEN but it doesn't seem right in comparison to how grown up I feel now. I know that feeling will continue to frequent my body, though, so I guess I best get used to it?

Good to see how much I've changed and how much I am still unshakably ME. That's the best part about visiting the past, right? Noting the change or lack thereof?

On a side note, despite concentrated efforts to throw off the familial opinion that I am a klutz/ditz, I left my cell phone in my mother's car when she dropped me off at the airport. So if you'd like to get in touch with me this week, please email (or stop by if you are able).

All the best. (insert comment to post more often here)

The Playground Problem (a sermon manuscript)

(Dear friends, this is the manuscript for the sermon I preached this morning on Luke 19:1-10. Thought a few of you might want to read it!)

Have you ever pictured Zaccheus as a little boy? To begin with, his name means innocent. He's short. We see him climbing up trees. Eager to see this grown up person, Jesus. Climbing down out of the tree as fast as he can because Jesus has said he's coming over to his house to play. I can picture them arriving at the house and this little boy eagerly taking Jesus' hand to show him all the cool toys he has in his room.

Or maybe you see Zaccheus as a grown man. He is a chief tax collector. He's rich. Today, his house would be strewn with the latest technology. He might drive a sports car. Either way, he's still the unpopular kid on the playground. Not throwing big birthday parties at his house but perhaps sitting alone at his own table at lunchtime, munching on a PB&J and wondering why he has so few friends. But we'd say he's a good kid. He gives away his lunch money and says he's SO sorry when he accidentally trips another kid on the playground.

Or maybe you picture the adult Zaccheus, sitting alone in his big house. He's a good man. He gives monthly to local and international charities that work to end poverty and is always quick to apologize if he makes a mistake at work or unknowingly does something wrong to a member of his staff.

We would call him a good man. Zaccheus is good kid.

So perhaps it is even more heartbreaking when we hear the crowd start to grumble. We know what's coming next. And then we hear it, “Four eyes.” “Stupid.” “Shrimp.” “Why is Jesus going to HIS house?” “Sinner.”

Is it any wonder that immediately after these grumblings, Zaccheus stands up straight and tells Jesus about his annual giving percentage and his track record of correcting wrongs? Looking up into Jesus' face and pleading, “I'm a good man.” Or perhaps, with tears on the playground, asking “Why?”

In those words, I find the story hits home.

This is the season of Endorsement, after all. The time when we get to tell our synod candidacy committees that we are fit for ministry. Ready for internship next year. We've written our essays about grace and baptism and finding our gifts here and we've added stories about how much we learned in CPE this summer.

I met with my committee two weeks ago. And I know that buried in my attempts to prove myself to them... lingered all my doubts. What if I'm not ready yet? Will they say no? What if God is calling me to do something else? What if I'm too much of a sinner to ever lead the church?

I don't know what your doubts are. Maybe they're a lot like mine. Maybe you worry if God can actually craft you into the kind of pastor you dream of being. Maybe you worry if you are doing enough. Studying enough. Attending chapel enough. And in that, we're like Zaccheus. As eager as we are to take Jesus' hand, we worry what the crowd will say.

Because Zaccheus isn't only speaking to Jesus but to the crowd gathered around him that is singing mockingly at the little kid in glasses, “Zaccheus can't see us!!” We're back on the playground, watching the other kids taunt us. And even though we're in seminary now, we carry those voices around with us.

So what does Jesus do? Here he is on the playground with this little child, Zaccheus; or, in the house of this man Zaccheus who is desperately trying to prove himself worthy. Offering up twenty different reasons why he's good enough. Telling the other kids that he's good enough to have Jesus over.

So Jesus says, “Today salvation has come to this house since he also is a son of Abraham.”

It is a profound statement. In it, Jesus claims Zaccheus as a child of God.

Important.

Worthy.

Loved.

In Jesus' response to the crowd's grumbling, he quiets them. He doesn't tell them Zaccheus won him over with his fancy house or fun toys. He doesn't tell the crowd that Zaccheus won him over by his laundry list of good deeds and gold stars.

Jesus tells the crowd that Zaccheus is a son of Abraham. Jesus claims Zaccheus as a child of God.

And I wonder why Jesus even stopped, called him down out of tree, from the margins, and decided to sleepover. Perhaps he saw the desperation of that face in the tree. Knew all that Zaccheus was doing to try to prove himself. Knew that he needed to hear that he was a child of God. Knew that he needed a visit from Jesus.

Jesus does that today, too. Claims us as sons and daughters of God. It matters not that we are children or adults. Jesus doesn't care about the depth or shallowness of our pockets. Jesus even knows that we ARE sinners. Knows all of our doubts. And Jesus quiets them again and again by claiming us.

My committee recommended me for endorsement... but some of you know that the experience was difficult. Instead of feeling affirmed about the things that God has been planting in me making me ready for ministry, I felt even more full of doubt. I was worried about my worthiness for ministry. I was questioning everything.

Sadly, it wasn't their telling me that they were recommending me for Endorsement that made me remember I was a child of God, but the community that wrapped its arms around me afterwards.

The friend who made me coffee and brought it to me when I said I didn't want to talk. And then stayed and listened to me talk for an hour. The friend who told me I was fabulous and reminded me of all those along the way who have told me that they want me to be a pastor.

They were Jesus to me. Quieting the crowd that was raging inside me. Reminding me that Jesus has claimed me. It wasn't about what I could do and it certainly wasn't about proving myself to my committee. It was the simple reminder that Jesus claims me.

Jesus claims YOU. Jesus claims each and every one of us as sons and daughters of God.

Walk the Walk

So I've been talking a lot and writing a lot in my journal and in letters about discipline and grace.
I picked up this book back in April @ Cornerstone church with friends called "The Discipline of Grace" by Jerry Bridges. The subtitle? "God's Role and Our Role in the Pursuit of Holiness." And if this sounds like something I wouldn't typically read, then you are correct. Lutherans are all about the grace. All about it being what GOD does and not what we DO. We can't earn our way into God's favor and love. And while I don't agree with every piece of theology in the book, I'm finding it is beautifully paired with my Systematic Theology class and my Jesus and the Gospels class.

Most especially, the method of theology called praxis method. As I understand it, its how you put your theology into practice. Doing something with it instead of the opposite end of the spectrum where you sit on your ass all day in a room with other brains and think about shit. While I hope that will never be the case with my own theology, I can tell you countless others have gone astray. It doesn't help the church.

And then there are the four gospel stories. And though we saw Jesus in the temple, philosophizing and coming up with riddles to make us think, we also saw Jesus eating dinner with tax collectors and the poor. Out healing. Out teaching. Out doing things. But I don't want to negate time spent in the temple, arguing with other leaders about the important issues. I just think that there's a balance.

We talk in seminary about pastors who are generally the sort to be found in their office and those who are generally never found in their office. There are upsides and downsides to both. Most obviously, if you only sit in your office, you aren't visiting the hospital, being in the community outside the church, etc. But then again, if you aren't in your office, there are fewer opportunities for *knock, knock* "Um.. pastor? You got a minute?" So again, there's a line to walk. It'll be fun to find it.

So with all these fine lines that I imagine I'll spend the rest of my life navigating... I find they seem to be nuances of that first one, discipline and grace. How much do we have to sit down and realize that it isn't up to us? How much do we need a poker at our side telling us that God wants us to use these hands, this voice, that talent or skill?

And honestly, even the things of ministry that are FOR God and our relationship with him take discipline. Getting a book and bible out to do a devotion (I don't)? Remembering to actually pray for that person you said you'd pray for (I forget)? Not falling asleep during your evening prayers (guilty!)? And for me, it's also going to chapel, going to class, and the NEVER simple task of getting out of bed in the morning. It takes MY work, not all God's. There are all kinds of "but" statements I could throw in here but I think I'll leave it at that. Because today, I think I need the reminder that I have two hands that work and a heart that beats (and perhaps also because I know at the core of my being that I have a God who loves me just as I am??).

Be blessed.

Being in Community

Hello cyber world o' mine. I must apologize once again for being gone so very long. Now that the third week of classes is beginning, I'm finally getting into the rhythm of everything once again. CPE sucked the life from my very bones and graciously gave it back in pieces. I've been remade. So it made it especially exciting and terribly difficult to come back into this community here at seminary.

I remember distinctly one of the professors saying at the start of my first year here that it is easier for us to see God's grace and forgiveness in our OWN lives than to see it in someone else's. In other words, he told us that before long we'd be looking at one another and going, "Well SHE shouldn't be here!"

Well... let's just say I've been needing to remember that speech frequently. Not necessarily with my friends in school but the larger community. Look how flawed we are. See how flawed I am? How does God do work through flawed people? And yes, I've read the Old Testament - I know he uses drunkards, adulterers, etc. to do great things. I'm just a little tired weary.

Part of it has to do with the church wide assembly's decision to ordain homosexuals in committed monogamous relationships. So many people freaked out and were sad. Let down. But here, we are all pretty much over the moon about it. So I have to grapple with the idea that one decision can be seen as the church finally being like Christ but also failing to uphold the teachings of the Bible. So I feel I cannot celebrate when so many people are grieving.

There's this gap. This vision I have of polar opposites. Everywhere I look I see saints and sinners. Mind you, I'm talking about one person being saint and sinner. So people have tried to tell me to separate the two. Just focus on that person being an amazing pastor and don't worry about their affair. Or focus on their sermon, not on their getting drunk. So I try. But then I wonder if this is the way to go. Not just because it is really difficult to separate one part of someone from another part, but because I'd like to believe that I could love the whole person and not pick that parts I like. I cannot reduce people down to saint in some contexts and sinner in others. We are saint and sinner all the time. We do not throw switches on and off. If we could, don't you think we'd choose saint?

And you know, I think that's the beauty of it. We cannot be saint without also being sinner. How can we see the light except for the darkness that surrounds it? Otherwise we are just blind.

*Sigh*

I'm learning to bring that light and dark together without making some sort of middle gray area. I know life is not black and white but I cannot believe it is always gray. And maybe it just comes down to perspective. Yours. Mine. That guy's. Her's. God's.

Do you ever want to ask God why in the world he keeps on loving us despite all our flaws, wounds, and brokenness? I do. But I have to say I'm thrilled to death he does... even if I don't always understand it.

A tidbit in remembrance

From a travel journal my Grandma had that only had a few entries:

September 11, 2001

The girls and I are at a beautiful home on a lake in Jacksonport, WI. We are in DOOR CO - known as a fantastic tourist "get away"!!

Kaye, Beth, and I arrived Sunday evening between five and six, and Susan and Nancy arrived soon after. Nancy had flown into St. Paul on Saturday. Kaye arrived in Mendota Thurs. evening, and Beth came on Saturday. Our trip here was in pouring rain - BUT - it was lovely on Monday and also today. We have been glued to the TV because of the horrible news on the bombing in N.Y. and Washington.

My 200th Post!!

It is fitting that my 200th post is also written on the day that I finished CPE. Cause for celebration and marking time passed...

I wanted to share a bit of our goodbye process today. To close, we went around and said, in one word, what we hoped most for each other. What did they hope for me?

Happiness.

Love.

Self.

A-place-by-a-babbling-brook. (This was my supervisor so he could break the rules.)

In other words, they got me. They pegged me completely. Today (and throughout the internship), I had small mirrors held up for me that presented a completely accurate picture of me - not only what I presented on the outside but all the way down to my fears, hopes, beliefs, and passions. It was a remarkable experience to be seen for who you really are - the good, the bad, the ugly, and the beautiful in between.

Secret of Life

"The Secret of Life" by Faith Hill

Couple of guys sittin around drinkin
Down at the starlight bar
One of em says, you know Ive been thinking
Other one says, that wont get you too far
He says, this is your life, and welcome to it
Its just workin and drinkin and dreams
Ad on tv says just do it
Hell if I know what that means

The secret of life is a good cup of coffee
The secret of life is keep your eye on the ball
The secret of life is a beautiful woman
And marilyn stares down from the barroom wall

You and me, were just a couple of zeros
Just a couple of down-and-outs
But movie stars and football heroes
What have they got to be unhappy about?
So they turn to the bartender, sam, what do you think?
Whats the key that unlocks that door?
Sam dont say nothin, just wipes off the bar
And he pours them a couple more

cause the secret of life is in sams martinis
The secret of life is in marilyns eyes
The secret of life is in monday night football
Rolling stones records and moms apple pie

Sam looks up from his sunday paper
Says, boys, youre on the wrong track
The secret of life is there aint no secret
And you dont get your money back
Hey

The secret of life is gettin up early
The secret of life is stayin up late
The secret of life is try not to hurry
But dont wait
Dont wait

The secret of life is a good cup of coffee
The secret of life is keep your eye on the ball
The secret of life is to find the right woman
The secret of life is nothin at all
Oh, its nothin at all
The secret of life

Couple of guys sittin around drinkin
Down at the starlight bar
One of em says, you know Ive been thinking
Other one says, that wont get you too far
That wont get you too far

Just read a fascinating reflection on the Sodom and Gomorrah story. Worth a read.

"Anyone who reads this passage with an ounce of intelligence or imagination can see that this is absolutely not a condemnation of homosexuality as we understand it."

http://normalsusan.blogspot.com/2009/08/sunday-august-2-2009.html

Question and Answers

Much of what this first year of seminary education (including CPE) has taught me is that there is a lot in me that has yet to be nailed down. I do not have a definitive stance on a good number of theological issues. When I said in a prayer the other day about a patient's soldier friend, "Don't take this one away" - I got asked about the theology behind it. I didn't have an answer.

So I've been asking myself more questions. Just what do I feel about death? The power of prayer? The idea of God's grace? Embodiment? Homosexuality? End of life issues?

It has all landed on my plate. Not everything is demanding a decision. Part of the blessing of this past year is the bliss of the color gray. I'm learning how very little in life is black or white. Much of it is in between. I see this as just a bit of the beauty of humanity and the blessing of diversity.

I've also had the chance to discover where I'm falling down on some of those issues. What do I do when faced with a dead body in a room where 20 people are grieving that death? Where one is grieving? None? How do I feel about doctors and DNR orders? How many times in one day can you ask, "What if this were me in their shoes?" and not go crazy?

Needless to say, it has been a year of questioning myself right down to the heart and soul of me. This summer has been an opportunity to ask those questions and play with the different answers. The unique stage of CPE gives me a chance to see how different answers sit with me and how others sit with their answers. I've had a chance to decide what exactly I believe in a space that welcomes the questions and the varied answers that come with them. God bless the people in this program and my seminary for questioning my answers.... but still allowing me to be me. (And God bless those of you back home who have loved me for years regardless of what my answers are.)

As for those questions, or more specifically, for my answers, I'm sure you'll be reading about them soon enough. I'm ready to write.

I'm Not Gonna Make It

One of the best parts about my CPE experience is the array of conversations I get to have around American culture and the English language with our two international students. One of them was asking me the other day what the phrase, "I'm gonna make it" means. I laughed. Of course this would not make sense to a new English speaker.

First of all, you have to mentally break apart those first words into I AM GOING TO but then to decide how you MAKE IT. Make what? Why are you making something. So then it turned into a conversation about survival and exaggeration. I tried to explain that although it means survival in the hospital (this patient is going to make it vs. he's not going to make it), we Americans like to exaggerate... a lot. So when the clock says 4:28pm and you are leaving work at 5, you may roll your eyes, lay your head on your desk and sigh, "I'm not gonna make it."

It was then that the international student started laughing and nodding. THIS was how he heard it used - not the other way (despite our being in a hospital!). Oh, America. THIS is what we are teaching other countries about us!

But that got me thinking how much we sap the importance out of certain phrases. Think for instance on the terrifying phrase "I'm gonna kill you" and how we playfully use it when someone mislaunders our favorite blouse or tickles us two seconds too many. We don't mean kill just like we don't really wonder if we are going to survive until 5.

I just called my grandma to wish her a happy birthday and she said that when she was born she was just over 3 pounds. "They didn't think I was gonna make it... but I did!" She turned 81 today. She "made it" for sure. But how odd to pull that into comparison with all the things I've seen in the hospital this summer. Those patients who didn't make it. Despite prayers and wishful thinking and the work of the doctors and nurses, they died. And in one case in particular, how a doctor was telling a patient's family that he was going to make it when they thought all hope was lost. I'm happy that he's around. He made it.

Funny choice of word though, "make" (or "made") is. You aren't really making anything.... are you?

Let's Merriam-Webster it:
MAKE
: to cause to exist, occur, or appear : create (make a disturbance)
: to bring into being by forming, shaping, or altering material : fashion (make a dress)
: reach, attain (made port before the storm) —often used with it
-make it
: to be successful (trying to make it in the big time as a fashion photographer)
: survive, live (half the cubs won't make it through their first year)

Interesting. I had even forgotten about the making it big time version of making it. Oh well. I wonder if there is some kind of life analogy (you know I am always wondering that) about our making it being completely out of our hands. In other words, if we are talking about making it through something, our goal is survival but ultimately it is out of our hands.

Frankly, I'm just giving thanks that 81 years ago my grandma did MAKE IT so that I could be alive today. Thanks gram... er, thanks God?

This sucks

I'd really rather not deal with it. It hurts too much. Feels too close. Hits too hard.

Deal with what, you ask? How I relate to other people seems to be performance based. I put on a show so you'll like me. So I'm coming here... where I still seem to be performing some show but where I've managed also to share a good bit of my heart as honestly as I can.

I think it all has to come down to the fact that I'm scared to death I won't be liked... or loved. That if I stop being a Susie Sunshine, quick with a joke or a quote or the latest headline, that somehow you will all decide that I'm not worth being around. So my goal in patient care is to cheer people up. Crack a joke. Make them smile.

This doesn't work. It fails pretty much every time. And here I am, being reminded that it isn't about me - - it's about the patients. I can't go in and put on a performance for them. But it doesn't change the fact that I want them to like me. I want to be an amazing chaplain. The problem? I can't be an amazing chaplain.... unless I deal with my shit and get through this and learn how to connect to people on a real level and stop worrying if I'll do well, be liked, be accepted....

I'd really rather not deal with it. It hurts too much. Feels too close. Hits too hard.

On Reaching the Half Way Point - Entry #2

Okay mid-unit evaluations.... bring em on! This week marks the half way point. I know I said in my last entry that I was going to vague and just leave you with a quote... but in fact there is really so much to say. I started reading back in some of my old blog entries. By old, I mean when CPE started (what we refer to as 5 years ago here). My fear of the unknown and my anxiety about being on call... wow. It all sounds familiar and I can touch the memory of it within me, but it also seems far away. Distant. I guess that's a good thing. As for that unknown behind every door: every single patient I meet is a child of God. What am I afraid of?

And can I just say as a side note - the sunset right now is beyond gorgeous. I have found that the weather after a good rain storm is so beautiful that I tend to love the rain that brought it. Oh my - even that sounds like it was supposed to carry some deep message. While I'm sure it can be an analogy for life and life's difficulties... I really have found that a good rain storm one day means breathtaking weather the next. That or you just have a week's worth of rain.... I digress.

So CPE is going well. I had to stop and let myself learn. I had to accept that I had no idea how to do this (shocking) and that I was surrounded by people who could teach me (thank you Jesus) if only I would let them and let myself (stubbornness comes naturally to me - I'm a redhead). So I did let myself let them and now I'm learning. I'm learning a lot, too. Some of it I am tucking away for a later time. Most of it I'm being forced to use right away. That's what is so amazing about CPE. It isn't some classroom on some campus in a little bubble of safety and intellect. I learn in a small classroom tucked away in a corner of a hospital - then I go visit with patients. I respond to a crisis and I have to use what I've learned in class (often from the same day if only because it is fresh on my mind).

So as for the quote - - it's true. I knew that there was some work that needed to be done. But then God started throwing out a wing here and putting in a courtyard over there. I'm not gonna lie, it still hurts. I'm just trusting more. It helps it not hurt so much in the long run.

Upon Reaching the Half Way Point

Instead of telling you outright how I'm doing, I thought I'd be vague and just leave you a quote. :)

“Imagine yourself as a living house. God comes in to rebuild that house. At first, perhaps, you understand what He is doing. He is getting the drains right, and stopping the leaks in the roof, and so on: you knew that those jobs needed doing and you are not surprised. But presently He starts knocking the house about in a way that hurts abominably, and does not seem to make sense. What on earth is He up to?

The explanation is that He is building quite a different house from the one you thought of– throwing out a new wing here, putting on an extra floor there, running up towers, making courtyards. You thought you were going to be made into a decent little cottage: but He is building a palace. He intends to come and live in it Himself.”

-C. S. Lewis

Verbatim - My Pastoral Visit with the World

Well, hello world. My name is 1L and I'm a Chaplain Intern. I just wanted to stop in a for a minute and meet you. Is now an okay time to visit? Great. Let me just pull up this chair here. So, what brings you here today? How does that make you feel? It sounds like this is all a bit overwhelming. Well, can I offer to say a prayer with you? What can I pray about? Okay, I can do that. But let's change it up and only pray about me, this time. Okay? Pray with me...

God of hope and healing, I am nearly drowning in emotion in this hospital land of sick, suffering, and new found joy. I float along medical terminology that barely speaks to the problems that real people are experiencing as aches or pains in their bodies. I want to separate the body from the soul and make it easier to talk to someone about their dying body and death. I want to be rewarded with the dark mysteries of someone else's soul without divulging my own. I want it to be easier.

God of blessings and light, thank you for surrounding me with such a magical cast of beautiful creatures. I am nearly drowning in deep thinking, insightful wisdom, questioning answers, and motivating tension. I float along words and quotes and prayers and thoughts that hum their way into my ears through the hospital air. I want to witness a miracle but I'd like to do so from the quiet and safety of my workspace corner. I want to learn how to live a life that honors human dignity and values stillness and silence in the midst of the chaos of living day to day. I want to know how to do it all right now.

Be with me. Restore me. Stay with me forever. Amen...

Okay world, thanks for praying with me. If you are around tomorrow, can I stop by and see you again? Great. And... I know waiting can be difficult. That's the hardest part of being here, I think. You'll be home soon enough. Just let the people here take care of you. They know what they're doing. Well anyway, have a good rest of the day.

On Death, Without Exaggeration

by Wislawa Szymborska

It can't take a joke,
find a star, make a bridge.
It knows nothing about weaving, mining, farming,
building ships, or baking cakes.

In our planning for tomorrow,
it has the final word,
which is always beside the point.

It can't even get the things done
that are part of its trade:
dig a grave,
make a coffin,
clean up after itself.

Preoccupied with killing,
it does the job awkwardly,
without system or skill.
As though each of us were its first kill.

Oh, it has its triumphs,
but look at its countless defeats,
missed blows,
and repeat attempts!

Sometimes it isn't strong enough
to swat a fly from the air.
Many are the caterpillars
that have outcrawled it.

All those bulbs, pods,
tentacles, fins, tracheae,
nuptial plumage, and winter fur
show that it has fallen behind
with its halfhearted work.

Ill will won't help
and even our lending a hand with wars and coups d'etat
is so far not enough.

Hearts beat inside eggs.
Babies' skeletons grow.
Seeds, hard at work, sprout their first tiny pair of leaves
and sometimes even tall trees fall away.

Whoever claims that it's omnipotent
is himself living proof
that it's not.

There's no life
that couldn't be immortal
if only for a moment.

Death
always arrives by that very moment too late.

In vain it tugs at the knob
of the invisible door.
As far as you've come
can't be undone.

On the occasion of the day after my third overnight on call

Oh my, am I exhausted. It isn't so much that I don't get sleep after an overnight on-call as it is the weariness of being on edge for 24 hours (even 6 of them are sleep). Being in a different bed than my own. Being away from home which is where I recharge my batteries (yes, before you ask, I am a robot - beware). So I'm just ready to be home. I'm ready to not work this weekend and for a visit with family. Alas... it is only Wednesday!!

Um... I'll write later? No promises. :D

On the Occasion of my very first on-call

Funny how being "on-call" is mere letters away from a "call." Or maybe not. Maybe there's no similarities between being responsible for the spiritual care of an entire hospital and being responsible for the spiritual care of an entire congregation. I happen to disagree.

We were trying to decide, earlier, about the frequency of pages we'd get during the night - during the time when we are the only chaplain for the hospital. What if we got code after code after code all night? I suppose it is possible, but nights go by with no calls. So I was curious what I should expect this evening, on the occasion of my first call. Would I have everything or nothing?

Of course, you can't expect drama all the time. Likewise, you can't expect smooth waters all the time. So what do you do? I think there is simply a state of preparedness. Of readiness. As time goes by, that sense and state of readiness becomes sharpened. You learn what to expect while at the same time expecting the unexpected.

Will I ever be comfortable with the unknown? To a certain degree, I think I will always be anxious about the future. I'm not a worrier, but I want to know what lies ahead. I want to know what's coming. I want to prepare for it. There's this beautiful song that my friend Rob shared with me and it has applicable lyrics. I've shared the song before on my blog. It's called Jesus by Brand New. Here is the line I find comfort and irony in tonight:

(Speaking to Jesus about his second coming) "So do you think we could work out a sign so that I'll know it's you and that it's over so I won't even try?"

I shiver even now as I listen to the song.

That's all. Now I'm off to do my rounds. Godbless.

The ramifications of my actions...

So I am on day 4 of CPE. That's Clinical Pastoral Education. It is a requirement for all Masters of Divinity students (at least at most seminaries); generally completed the summer after your first year of seminary. So there's a kind of mad dash for a spot in a hospital due to the nature of the groups which are generally small and attempt to be as diverse as possible. Because I wanted to get out of the city for the summer and to avoid the mad dash for CPE sites in Chicago, I looked at a hospital near my cousin in central Illinois with the intention that I would live with them (remember that new baby back in August? Yeah, I get to spend the summer listening to him giggle and watching him grow!). So here I am. Day four of CPE in central Illinois.

Again, sorry for being gone for so long. It took a lot of energy to finish up school. Those were some of the hardest papers I've ever had to write. I keep trying to figure out why and it boils down to the fact that they all had an element - if not a majority - of the personal laid over the academic. I could punch out a paper the night before it was due in undergrad (ask my roommates, I did) and receive an A. That is more than impossible now. So of course, that doesn't do much for my confidence in my own intelligence. I got a C this semester. That hurt. But then I got an A and an A- in two of my other classes. So... that seems odd.

But back to CPE. I'm here. It is rough. It is also richly rewarding. Typical, right? (Woah on the alliteration of the letter R, there.) We talked today about crisis care. It was AMAZING and I wanted to go down to the ER and hug someone. Well, not hug someone. That would be unwelcome gesture and a wrong way to start a visit and... yeah. But you know what I mean.

My twitter update last night said something about understanding nuances and living in a world that is both/and instead of either/or. There are no tried and true formulas for patient care that work across the board. Everyone is different. Everyone is at a different place. To assume that one "protocol" (to be entirely clinical) works for one situation should not lead you to assume that it will work in the next situation. This is where my anxiety starts to build. I want formulas!! I want scripts!! I want to know exactly what to say to someone before I walk into the room. I am uncomfortable in the realm of the unknown.

So that's what I'll be working on this summer. And not to be vague or anything, but I'll be working on seeing what the dark valley looks like. How else can I assure people they'll be okay there if I have not truly experienced the journey through my own grief? (My advisor is wicked smart.) Well, that's the gist of it. I'm scared to death and more excited than I can begin to share.

So... that's my summer. The start of my ministry.... where I balance reality and hope (that's from my advisor again - another wordy gem for me to cling to).

Welcome to my world. Welcome to CPE. I'll be here all summer. ;)

Long Time Gone

I'm sorry I've been away so long...

Moving and traveling has taken up a good bit of my time. Before that it was exams and papers. And packing. Ha.

Been processing a lot. Having some fun. Getting a tattoo (my 2nd) with my sibling. Taking in the Tennessee landscape and breathing in gulps of honeysuckle tainted air. Yum.

I'll be back blogging in a bit. I promise. ;)

Revelations of Loving Myself

So I'm not sure what it was about last night. Whether it was the conversation of the night... or the wee hours that I found myself still awake in... or three days of sickness that have made me home bound... or moving tomorrow to my very first place all on my own... but I had a revelation.

It might not go so well into words, but I'll at least relay the content as best I can. I finally figured out what loving myself looks like. This very real picture of humility that is about embracing both the celebration of self and the struggle for a better you. You are who you are exactly as you are right at this moment. And guess what? You were you 10 years ago. I gathered up my memories about me; the good and the bad. They were part of me. Those betrayals of friendship in high school and colleger are just as much a part of me as the first guy who ever held my hand and the way my grandmother rubs my hand with her thumb whenever she holds it. They are all things in my life that happened to this body. My body. Me.

It will sound cheesy to say that it just sort of came together. I realized I've got me the rest of my life. I've got so much time to grow and figure things out that it is almost laughable. I'm a bit of an old soul. A serious person. But in truth, I have a lot of quirks. I'm a bit crazy. A little random. A bit messy but ridiculously organized and meticulous in a lot of things. I have beautiful red hair that I usually tie up out of my face and grayish blue eyes like my mama that sparkle when they are next to hers. I've got my parents' passion for people, their intelligence, and some odd form of their combined humors. I have an amazing brother who is ridiculously smart and sarcastic and who for some reason loves me as much as I love him.

Me? I'm a procrastinator. I've got a little extra love on my fabulous frame. I enjoy my sleep. But God made in me a heart that is big enough to do ministry. When I love, I love big. When I hope, I hope big. I fall in love fast and make friends slower but they tend to stick around. I'm not the best about answering my phone or returning phone calls. I do much better with one on one time.

I am all these things. For better or worse, if you come to love me, you will love these things. More importantly, I have finally come to love these things. It's a pretty incredible feeling. I have plenty of time to grow and figure out life. Today is where I'm at today. How are you doing?

(As for the flu, I'm getting better! Sasha brought me jello today. Hooray!)

Inspiration

Well I couldn't sleep just yet. I tried. No luck. I just kept making up sermons in my head. One for my MIC site. One for my church back home. Messages about love and what home looks like.

But I couldn't sleep, so I got up and stumbled upon Brian Andreas' blog. He's the man behind StoryPeople. If you don't know StoryPeople, you should. But it wouldn't make his blog entry any less spectacular if you didn't know who he was. Just keep in mind that the beauty of his stories reflect the random beauty of life. He calls it into focus and it is sometimes quite profound. For instance, read this blurb from the blog...

We often forget that life is quite simple. We play, we talk, we sing & dance & make love. We fill the world with our stories & everything we touch with love comes alive. Everything we touch with love becomes a piece of our home.
(Read the whole blog here.)

Yeah, he's got a way with words. Here are some of my favorite StoryPeople stories (these are all one line long - the link takes you to the title on the StoryPeople site where you can "Add to [your] Favorites"):

"After all those years, she was nothing like I remembered, but my heart leaped across the gap anyway without a moment's hesitation." (link)

"connected by a silver cord that hums with sadness the further it is stretched" (link)

" You may not remember the time you let me go first. Or the time you dropped back to tell me it wasn't that far to go. Or the time you waited at the crossroads for me to catch up. You may not remember any of those, but I do & this is what I have to say to you: today, no matter what it takes, we ride home together." (link)

"Of course I want to save the world, she said, but I was hoping to do it from the comfort of my regular life." (link)

"As long as the sun shall rise goes the old lovers vow. But we are children of a scientific age & have no time for poetry. Still, I offer a quiet prayer of thanks for the sunlight each time I see your face." (link)

The Grace of Sickness

So Monday, very early in the morning, I woke up freezing. This wasn't that cold feeling when the air outside your bed is cold (for instance, if you have ever lived in a dungeon...), but the kind that only comes from a fever. Oh joy, says I - hope it isn't swine flu...

Correction: H1N1 virus. I apologize. I hope I don't have it all the same. Then again, I rarely go to the doctor so I don't know how I would find out anyway. Haha. Anyway, you don't need my sick stories and the commentary about how much it sucks to have to take care of yourself when you are sick, so I won't talk about that. ;)

Instead, I'll talk about my thoughts over this enforced 2 day break from work. Yesterday I was determined to work through it. I would just read in bed if I couldn't hold my head up, right? I'd finish that paper! That one, too! I'd go to my class!

I didn't. I couldn't. So I slept. I wrote emails to my professors begging for grace, secretly terrified they'd think it was some evil ploy to get out of writing the paper. Note to self: should you ever become a professor, operate by grace, not by law.

They were all incredibly gracious. That paper hanging over my head is now due Thursday or Friday. I've missed 3 of my last 4 classes so far of my 1st year in seminary and I'm sad about it. Partially, I think, it has to do with closure. You get to see these people one last time. Savor the last few moments. Savor the finish of the semester (because we all know that even when it was good, it was exhausting). I'm hoping I will feel better in time for tomorrow night's last Worship class.

With this stage of forced rest and negative-2 productivity, I've been thinking a lot about my own motivation or lack thereof. Why is it that I'm still not eating as healthy as I should, still not doing daily devotions or simply reading from the bible, still not flossing, still not getting things done? The result is missed deadlines, extra poundage on my fabulous frame, laundry overflowing from my hamper, and frustration that I'm not living up to my "full potential." I hate that phrase. Like anyone ever does?!

I think I've been using up a lot of grace, though. (Not that it can ever be used up, but hear me out.) I think I've been relying on grace to get me through each day for so long that I've become lazy in my response to that wonderful gift. One of my profs said the other day to the class, "What is your response to grace?" Of course we all talked about it not being about what WE did because that would be too focused on works (i.e. SO not Lutheran). Again, he asked, "Yes, but, what I'm asking is, God gives this grace... What do you do? How do you respond?"

We were pretty quiet. Well, not really. We talked around the issue for a bit. Got frustrated with one another. That sort of thing. No good response came of it.

Then the next weekend I went with my TN friends to their church Sunday morning. We were talking about this author, Jerry Bridges, so I was looking at his books in their book store. After wanting 3 different ones in a row, I knew I'd found it when I came across "The Discipline of Grace." I'm pretty excited to read it. I know it certainly isn't Lutheran but I may need its message all the more because of that. His subtitle is "God's Role and Our Role in the Pursuit of Holiness." It sounds lovely, actually. As a matter of fact, I may pick it up now and read a bit.

I'll let you know how it goes... and life. ;) Thanks for reading.

~1L

Would any of you be interesting in reading any of these papers I'm writing for the end of the semester?
-a paper about liturgy in the ELCA and how Luther reformed liturgy (I had an awesome typo in this paper that I'm glad I caught: "Luther retained the elevation of the hose..." instead of "host")
-a reflection on my roommate's faith/church life as a result of the oppression of the Palestinians
-a reflection on Dietrich Bonhoeffer's Letters and Papers from Prison (such a great book - so many good quotes..)
-a reflection on my experience at Cornerstone in TN as compared to the ELCA (we all took communion at the same moment, sitting in our chairs - how awesome to be so unified!)
-a final project for history... about... um... Roger Williams...? or... Bloody Mary? (t.b.a.)
-an exegesis paper on the passage in Ephesians that talks about the submissiveness of wives
-a book report on a book used for the above paper
-a paper/reflection on my philosophy of ministry
-part III of the endorsement essay

...or anything else that I've written/have yet to write and neglected to put on the list?

(Say a prayer if you think on it. I'm behind. I need to focus! L, where is that drink mix you got that promised "focus" on the front? I need to start drinking more of that!)

A Bitter Rant on "Light" Products

It's never a good thing to look at the label of the item you are currently eating. I just went to the grocery store with Sally and saw her getting some yogurt so I thought I'd try some too. Have you ever had Yoplait's Thick and Creamy yogurt? Well I have loved it for a long time. Specifically the vanilla one. Well they make this "light" version so I thought I'd give the "Mixed Berry" flavor a try. First bite was okay. Has that artificial sweetener aftertaste that I hate, though. So I start reading the label... these interested me:

1st ingredient: nonfat milk (always good)

2nd ingredient: high fructose corn syrup (wtf?!?! is the "light" part of this the fact that you are adding artificial sweeteners to the hfcs or the nonfat milk???)

10th: colored with beet juice concentrate (I almost spit out the yogurt I was eating. I swear to you I can taste a hint of beet. That's just wrong.)

13th: sucralose/Splenda (THIS is the stuff that has the aftertaste I loathe - bring on the aspartame and real sugar baby!)

14th: natural flavor (well, I'm glad it is here but it is 14th on the list... and I doubt there is much real flavor in it)

Yeah... I just threw it in the trash. Here's the problem - I'd rather be eating healthy than loosing weight. Eating good foods is good for your heart. And I know that everything seems to cause cancer these days but I really really think Splenda is going to be the next big cancer causing meltdown. The world will soon die - asphyxiated on Splenda.

(...specifically "Light" Mixed Berry yogurt with the bonus of hfcs.)

[on a side note, I read this blog (http://fuckyoupenguin.blogspot.com) and laugh out loud so you should too - read it, I mean. It is up to you if you want to laugh out loud or not. :D This seahorse entry is pretty fantastic.]

Feeling love in the virtual world

I don't know if any of you can appreciate this... but something just warmed my heart. Basically, I play this game called The West to avoid my school work. I play it with my cousin. My brother used to play. I have an attachment to it. It is also kind of fun because I get to flex some leadership muscles and see what it feels like to kick someone out of my town or to ask for more money to build more buildings, etc. I joke that I'm going to try to get my school to have a leadership class where you go online and play this game.

Anywho, the context is... that in this game there are duelers, workers, soldiers, and adventurers. Generally if you are a dueler, you shouldn't attack workers. But... we've been having some issues and I've been attacked. So we were discussing it in our town forum and they suggested that the workers put a little something in their profile about the town retaliating if we were attacked. So I wrote on mine something along these lines: "If you attack me, my town will kick your ass." Now... some of the townies thought that was a little harsh. They thought it would actually provoke someone to duel me instead of leave me alone. I agreed and changed it to something milder. Just today I check the forum and get this note from one of my townies:

If I read a profile from the Founder of a huge influential town like ours that said "my town will kick your ass" I would believe it. Just because she does have some muscle and we would all probably drop everything and kick someones ass if she asked us to.

I feel so loved...

...and now back to RL.

I meant to post this on Good Friday

...so pretend I did. Reflect. Enjoy. (Haven't I posted this before?)



There is an ongoing debate as to what the last lines say:
*tounge tied in a hate factory
*tounge tied TO a hating factory
*we turn out hate in factories
*talk dirt at hating factories
*Your tortured (and hanging) factory


But I learned, "We all got wood and nails turned out in a hate factory." In other words, some hate factory is churning out wood and nails. I like the imagery. I'm not sure what to do with being tounge tied in a hate factory...

Opposites Attract

The weather has turned sunny though it is still windy and cold here in Chicago. I know it was beautiful here this weekend... even though I wasn't here. I was enjoying the absolutely gorgeous weather in Tennessee and trying to tell my heart that it wasn't supposed to fall back in love with TN when I still had three more years before I could even hope for the possibility of moving back - if that is indeed where God is calling me.

For a while I wasn't sure I wanted to go back to the south. I didn't know I could go back to the buckle of the bible belt after spending four blissful years in an intellectual and spiritual haven that is this community for me. (Yes, it has been work so far and I expect more but I couldn't be happier to be here when I do that difficult work.)

That's when I really understood, however, that part of what God is forming me for is the synthesis of opposites (or things that appear to be opposites...). This is my ministry. This includes most apparently my desire for conversation between science and religion. I would love to sit on some hospital ethics board and remind the religious nuts that stem cells could heal all kinds of horrible diseases that people pray to be free from. I am fascinated by biomedical ethics. Simply fascinated.

Another huge opposite in my life is going to be this conversation between the north and south. Sure we went to war over it and brothers fought brothers and people died.... but I'm up for a challenge. I already have heaps of experience, right? Raised in the south by parents that were from the north... going to school in the north... after going to school in the south... and having family from the north... and still in the south... friends from all over...

I have been amazed hearing the difference of opinions in people about the presidential campaign and outcome, homosexuals in the church, and gun laws. Bringing what I've learned from the south to the north and then back again is so peculiar and profound. It is as if, sometimes, they are two different worlds and people are shocked I could believe what the other world preaches. Am I being corrupted, they ask? No, I'm being formed.

So I will be curious to see where I will be called to serve in 3 years in this great nation of ours. I only hope it isn't the west. I don't think I can take on the North, South, and WEST in one lifetime. Here's hoping God has plans that look like mine!!!

Christmas Music - Easter Message

So I'm a big fan of Target's piano CD's. You know the cheesy display that plays music at you near the cards? Yeah... those CD's are AWESOME. I bought one of hymn collections and we wore it out in my classroom at daycare. So I bought one at Christmas this last year. I decided to listen to it today while I was reading (it is incredible to study to as it has no lyrics and is calming).

The song, O Holy Night, came on and I was singing in my head:

Long lay the world
In sin and error pining
'Till He appeared and the soul felt its worth.

A thrill of hope
The weary world rejoices
For yonder breaks
A new and glorious morn.

I said over and over yesterday how tired I was. I feel it today as well. So to hear those lines... tell me if that doesn't strike you as profound? How beautiful is it that we celebrate the fact that our savior LIVES twice? Our most important days in the church are celebrating life. They are celebrating the fact that a man lived. Jesus lived. He was alive. And yes, the weary world rejoices.

I rejoice.

Use - Abuse - Addiction

So this week in Pastoral Care.... we learned about addiction. I started freaking out fearing that I was addicted to the internet. It is preferable to cleaning my room, completing an assignment, or various other necessities. I'll do them - I'd just rather have fun with this nothingness that is the internet.

So I took an online test to see if I was addicted to the internet and for the majority of things I was scoring low. Of course I go eat and attend class. But, of course I stay online a few minutes past when I said I'd get off... My final result? "You are an average on-line user. You may surf the Web a bit too long at times, but you have control over your usage." So that's lovely. Unless I lied. Ha!

Part of the problem is that the internet provides a way to communicate with lots of people at once. That's why I blog. That's why I twitter. That's why I facebook. I simply don't have time to have lots of the fabulous conversations I desire to have with all the people I don't see on a regular basis. So if you feel that I've been out of touch lately, I really do apologize. I'm trying!! I have up cards on my wall from you all and pictures of your smiling faces to greet me. I read your facebook updates and read your blogs or emails or comments. I do tend to live in my own little world... but know that you are part of it as much as I am able!!

The hardest part about moving is establishing a new community. I have to take time to make the connections here that will give me the support, conversation, smiles, and love I need to survive seminary. I think that means that all the relationships at home suffer, though. That's the all time WORST part about this experience. I am in a constant state of missing people.

So of course it was especially lovely to get to go to TN last weekend and then to see family this Easter weekend (and to go to Em's wedding this weekend!) - but the visits are always too short and I always end up back here in my chair with papers to write and books to read. The assignments just pile up and begin to overwhelm me. It's easier to be online. I know exactly what I'm avoiding!

Days like today - getting back to real life - are some of the worst. Will there ever be a time when I won't be wishing I was somewhere else? Will ministry feel like this, too?

Saturday is in between Friday and Sunday

Not to be too symbolic or anything... but I'm sitting in the dark in my room at my cousin's house and thinking about the sun rise.

It has felt longer this year. Those 40 days felt so much longer to me than they ever have before. I didn't even make it all the way with my Lenten commitments! Of course... it doesn't help that my birthday was last Friday and I got cookies. What am I supposed to do with that?! So I failed that one.

My other Lenten commitment was to pray to JESUS. In general, I have always prayed to God, the Father (without being hung up on whether this was a male or female thing). I thought it might be interesting for a change to pray to Jesus instead of just in Jesus' name. So I tried it a few times. It felt funny. I almost thought, "Shouldn't I just go talk to God?" I stuck with it as best I could.

Mostly, I think it was difficult for me because Jesus was a human. He lived and walked and talked and breathed the air we breathe and was fully a human. Of course the fabulous mystery of faith is that Jesus was also Christ, the Messiah, our Lord and Savior - fully divine. That makes a complicated person to pray to - but as I have been finding out... also one of the best. It isn't that the Father cannot understand what the Son went through here on Earth, but don't you feel better talking to someone who is "on your level" at work for instance instead of your boss? Another student instead of professor? Someone who is, in a sense, in your situation?

I think that is similar to what I experienced praying to Jesus. I just found myself saying over and over, "...but you know what that feels like." No, Jesus cannot know what being a single gal in the city feels like for me today, but even Jesus wept and cried out to God asking "My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?" To be sure, Jesus knew what loneliness was. His mother didn't quite get him. His disciples rarely understood the lessons he taught. And even when Jesus went to pray, they fell asleep waiting for him. He didn't get along with the pharisees and women were always at his feet... No wonder he felt all alone.

Is it any wonder that it was somewhat of a release for me to pray to Jesus? Someone who knew the temptations of life even if he wasn't an internet addict like I am. Someone who knew the difficulty of being in ministry even if didn't look like it does today in every way. Someone who had difficulty with authority. Still, he was also someone who knew how important family was. Knew how important the people living on the margins were and what true love and service looked like.

Anyway, as I wait in the dark for Easter morning, I pray that you will all find light enough to guide you ever onward. God bless you and keep you.

~A

God created ants because... ?

p.s. I was attacked by ants on Sunday when I stepped on a small mound of dirt, far too large to be an ant hill. It seems it was an ant HOTEL and they were PISSED. It took me about a minute before I wondered why my legs were itching and stinging. Then I looked down to find my feet, shoes, and my pant legs covered in little brown ants. My body just shivered thinking about it actually.

I've got the bites now two days later all nice and bubbled over. I count at least 6 little red mounds. I know those little guys got me more than that... I guess there were only 6 that got their creepy venom in me??

That'll teach me to not step in dirt anymore. I heart the city...

http://www.ehow.com/how_2365060_treat-ant-bites.html

Sometimes you just have to go home

I'm back home... in Chi town. I seems that when I travel, I travel from home to home. In a way it is nice to always be heading home. Then again, it is always difficult to leave home once again (even if it is for another home somewhere else).

I've decided for myself that my ideal heaven will be anyplace where I am no longer missing people. Maybe I'll be so utterly satisfied being in the presence of God, that I won't be missing people all the time and the relief will be palpable. It will be, shall we say, heavenly?

But this is earth. And until the kingdom comes, I will deal with always missing someone. I did get to see a lot of someones on my trip to TN though. If I'm cool, I'll post pictures. My battery is charging up now so I haven't even seen the pictures yet! I'm afraid I'll get too sentimental and mopey if I look at them now, though. So I'm waiting.... for the battery to charge. :)

Sorry I've been gone!!! I didn't take my laptop with me intentionally and was rarely online. It does mean that I got to spend a lot of good quality time with the people that love and support me from afar.

... speaking of love, did I mention that my W's threw me a surprise party for my 24th birthday? It was FABULOUS!! I walked in the door expecting a small family dinner and got a roomful of friends (and of course a table filled with delicious food). THEN I got another surprise - a bowling party!! This was complete with an embarrassingly pink, sparkly, and star studded "Birthday Girl" tiara, a feather boa and star sun glasses. Blu put it best when she asked if I felt properly grown up and properly like a kid. I did, I did!

The best part? Being surrounded by all those people that feel like home reminded me of how incredibly loved I am. There was no pretense to be someone other than who I am, right now, at this moment. They love me for who I am, not the qualities I posses or don't! They didn't mind that I wasn't the same Alison I was when I left or that I am still so much the same Alison.

What was odd, though? They were friends from various parts of my life... all coming together to celebrate me. I started thinking at one point that I would act differently in front of my family, my college friends, my coffee shops friends, and my W family. They've all known me at different times and in different ways/places/etc. - I just manifest different parts of myself to different people. So to know that being genuinely myself was the goal, the point, the purpose of the celebration...

...was incredibly freeing. I let go and just had a blast.

This feeling stuck around for most of the trip as I got to gather with various groups of friends and family

Thanks to all of my fabulous friends and family who surprised me Friday night, who loved on me this weekend, and who continue to let me call you home. You mean the world to me and are endlessly on my heart. Thanks for sharing me, too.

When Fantasy Collides with Real Life

So if you have been following my twitter feeds at all, you'll know that I can't stop obsessing over Twilight. Really it started last summer. I was in the bookstore with my friend J and came across the Twilight display. I had seen all the random pieces of flair on facebook about vampires, specifically about Edward. Who the heck was this character? Surely I'd like vampires a lot longer than these silly teenagers (yes, I was 23 - officially NOT a teenager).

So I pick the book up as I roll my eyes. These silly teen fads. Just another Harry Potter craze that would be annoying. I flip to the back cover and read dramatically to J:

"About three things I was absolutely positive.
First, Edward was a vampire.
Second, there was a part of him -- and I didn't know how dominant that part might be -- that thirsted for my blood.
And third, I was unconditionally and irrevocably in love with him."

I was snickering when I finished. He looked at me with a grin and told me that I was going to buy it. Not a suggestion, mind you. An acknowledgment of a fact. I nodded and tucked the book under my arm. It would be a quick read if nothing else and I'd find out who this Edward fellow was.

Little did I know my coworker at the coffee shop had also just started. He saw my book in the back room and confessed. We proceeded to read through all three books in about a week. It was completely addictive and we couldn't stop. I would call M when I got to certain places and I'd get calls from him yelling at me to hurry up and get to the next chapter. When we were on breaks at work, we'd talk about these people like they were our friends. "Can you believe Bella and the voices? Do you think Edward knows?" Alas... they were fictional friends. (As an aside, on Stephenie Meyer's website she wrote about writing and publishing the book: "Overall, it's been a true labor of love, love for Edward and Bella and all the rest of my imaginary friends, and I'm thrilled that other people get to meet them now.")

M and I made plans to go the Breaking Dawn release party. If nothing else, we'd get our hands on the final book that much quicker. I really, really hate when a book gets spoiled for me. I was late reading one of the Harry Potter books and someone told me about a certain professor. It killed the book for me. So... I didn't want to accidentally hear a spoiler about Breaking Dawn that would spoil it for me.

So we went... and M was one of about 5 guys there... and I was one of about 10 people older than 20 (okay... 18?). SO embarrassing. But we got our books. Most depressing of all was that I couldn't read it that weekend as I was in the midst of my big move. Of course, when I finally got to it, it was fabulous. A little ridiculous, but the whole series has been!!!

If you want to read it, know that Stephenie Meyer is an amazing story teller. She's not the greatest writer and the fact that it is written for a teenage audience makes sense - this ain't poetry friends. On the other hand, there are lines in the books that have made me laugh out loud. It is just an all around GOOD time with the Twilight saga. A little ridiculous, a little light hearted, a little love story, a little danger...


~~~~~ Which brings me to today. I've watched the movie too much already. So I thought I'd get in pajamas and curl up in bed with the original book and read (it's been a long day - the history test is complete!). Low and behold, I come across this:


" 'Carlisle was born in London, in the sixteen-forties, he believes. Time wasn't marked as accurately then, for the common people anyway. It was just before Cromwell's rule, though.'

I kept my face composed, aware of his scrutiny as I listened. It was easier if I didn't try to believe.

'He was the only son of an Anglican pastor. His mother died giving birth to him. His father was an intolerant man. As the Protestants came into power, he was enthusiastic in his persecution of Roman Catholics and other religions. He also believed very strongly in the reality of evil. He led hunts for witches, werewolves... and vampires.' "
(page 331)


I'll have you know I JUST wrote that history exam about the English Reformation, Cromwell, Cranmer, and the struggles of the Anglican church with the Evangelical Revivals.

It also doesn't help that Edward was born in Chicago!! He was dying of the Spanish influenza when Carlisle turned him. For my birthday, two friends gave me an awesome jacket that reads on the front: "Team Edward. Dazzling since 1918. Chicago, Illinois." LOVE IT!

... It just gets a little creepy when obsession collides with real life. A little creepy.

Don't ask yourself what the world needs. Ask yourself what makes you come alive, and go and do that, because what the world needs is people who have come alive. - Gil Bailie

Say NO to burn out and YES to self-care

One of the big questions these days that clergy like to ask (especially SINGLE pastors) is, "If I'm taking care of a congregation, who is taking care of me?" The obvious answer is of course, God, but that's not exactly what we are talking about. In a way, though, prayer is one of the ways we take care of ourselves. Just saying a prayer for our own person is a way to practice that ever important SELF CARE. It's a huge thing to learn, though. You all know I've been talking about it an how difficult a thing it is to cultivate when you are in a field that's all about care of OTHER people.

The importance of learning self care now is so that once I'm in the parish, I will already have in place the skills I need to "take care of myself." This is so I won't "burn out" or experience "compassion fatigue." This means, more literally, that I will have a spiritual adviser or counselor, I will have a group of other pastors to talk to (both in my situation and beyond it, and composed of as diverse a group as we can get in our area), the support of family even if they aren't physically nearby, and the skills to know when I need time to rest, go for a walk/run, reconnect with God (even attend another church's service), and LAUGH more.

So I'm learning. I'm also reading for my pastoral care class about compassion fatigue and I thought this bit was good:

"Besides managing workload, practicing stress reduction strategies, having hobbies, nurturing humor, and working to incorporate a balanced lifestyle, clergy have to derive meaning and satisfaction from their work. These are critical immunizations against compassion fatigue. For clergy, it is also important to look at how often they participate in worship outside the place where they are the leader.

Finally, there needs to be a paradigm shift in the unrealistic expectations congregations place on their clergy. For this to happen, parishioners need to be educated about role expectations of their clergy, time management, and the importance of self-care. Jesus set a good example of setting aside times for retreat from the crowds, and we would be wise to follow his example."

So I just liked that. It isn't just about self-care but about educating the church about why clergy NEED to take time away from them. In the end, it'll make us better pastors. Better able to take care of them by taking care of ourselves. God's so funny...

:)

*Excerpt from "Clergy: Compassion Fatigue" by Sheri S. Ferguson.

Personal Values vs Jesus Christ?

Well, I thought I'd give online dating a go. I did the whole match.com thing in my younger days and got tired of the 40 something guys trying to send me messages. Just creepy, right? So I stayed clear of online dating sights.

So on a whim, I decided to try eharmony. Interesting so far the array of opinions about it. Some have found true love. Others have found losers. Others seem to think I'm a loser for even trying it. So there ya go!

What I'm actually enjoying the MOST, however, are why the matches get "closed." I haven't closed any myself because I think I could give any of them a chance. Or maybe it is that in these first 15 guys, eharmony hasn't yet listed one that is that terrible?

My favorite reason/excuse so far is this one that says our personal values are too different. So I went back to see what this one guy's priorities were. Check it out:

The three things which M* is most thankful for:

• Jesus Christ
  
• Family and Friends
  
• The ability to learn

Do you see why I'm laughing? Yes... our values are SO different. I don't love Jesus, my family, or my friends. I also hate learning. Yup, that sums me up. We are MUCH to different buddy.

Really, I have decided there needs to be an option that reads:
"I'm closing the match because you have decided to be a pastor. This is odd seeing as you are a WOMAN and women can't lead in God's church. I learned that in a bible study because I love Jesus and I go to bible studies." (Sorry, was that bitter?)

Or it might read something like this:
"I'm closing the match because you are too liberal. I could never be with a woman who supports the gays... or who wants to be a leader in the church." *runs screaming away from me making the sign of the cross*

It is a shame that M* loves Jesus but thinks our values are too different. I hope and pray that no one in his family turns out to be gay. Then again, that would lead him to his third favorite thing... LEARNING. Odd, isn't it? Laughable? Well, I certainly think so.

Then again, I purposefully included my more "liberal" side in the extra information section so that I wouldn't start fancying a silly boy who didn't like women or LGBTQ in the church... but who says he loves Jesus.

*Sigh* Okay, back to studying!


*Name not given to protect the silly.

Sometimes Country Heals My Heart

The Wreckers - Tennessee

I never had all the answers
I never had enough time
But I sure had all the reasons
Why you weren't what I wanted to find

I never laid all my cards out
You just wanted to play
Keep you waiting on my doorsteps
While the joker and me, we went on our way

(Chorus;)
Maybe I was much too selfish
but baby you're still on my mind
Now I'm grown and all alone
and wishin' I was with you tonight
'Cause I can guarantee
things are sweeter in Tennessee

These days everything is all business
Never in one place for too long
But there's no lack of arms around me
But I still wonder if somewhere I went wrong

(Chorus)

in Tennessee

And I'd wish on every star
in the southern sky
for that man and our life
If I did not think that

(Chrous)

Yes I can guarantee
things are sweeter in Tennessee