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