Knocked upside the head

My congregation has a weekly soup kitchen. Lately I've felt reluctant to attend...and due to not feeling the greatest this afternoon contemplated skipping. I'm so glad I didn't.

It was a bit of a rough start because I had to have one of those sit-downs in order to iron out the juvenile temper tantrum by a member who is old enough to be....well, somewhere between my mother and grandmother. This conversation went longer than I had time for...but the temper tantrum is over (and has been moved past with fantastic results).

Anyway, that's not why I'm writing. I had some amazing conversations tonight. A family that used to attend regularly, but has been MIA for the last 4 months returned, only to say they are moving "up north" this weekend. I hope it's a good move for them. They don't have it easy here.

One of our "campers" was extremely agitated and one of the volunteers rushed over to get me. I sat down with her and learned that a man who had been rifling through her belongings last night came and sat down at their table as if nothing had happened. She was pissed - and scared. We talked for a while...going through feelings of anger, fear, excitement at a relatively new relationship, talking about how to appropriately deal with the anger (which she apologized for swearing and then went on to say in the same breath "but that da** mother f***er was going through my sh**). We talked for a long time with many hugs - and many tears. I went back to my dinner and watched her from across the room as she proceeded to calmly eat her meal, then, pick up her bag and go to another table where she joined other campers.

I had barely finished my 2nd bite of food when I was interrupted by the same man who the woman accused of rifling through her stuff. He knew me (I recognized him...but couldn't recall his name). He proceeded to tell me some of what's been going on with his life...including the job he lost, the plan to do a jobs program, that he's been drinking again (which anyone would have been able to tell), and that he lost his Bible. We talked for a long time and I think I played my role well...but I hadn't thought he would retain anything. And, he might not...but I overheard him telling the doctor (our congregation has just started hosting a monthly free clinic), "Did you know the pastor here is a woman? Before I met her I had never met a woman pastor. I don't usually listen to women. My mom, my sister, my girlfriend...I don't listen to any of them. But, she's a pastor, she's got authority. I've got to listen to her. And, she knows what she's talking about." Remember, he's drunk. I'm not delusional to think I've changed his life forever...but I sat in my office simultaneously entertained, honored, hopeful, and skeptical.

The next encounter I had was with a man who just needed to talk to for a couple minutes. He didn't want anything, but he lost his job last week (due to asking to switch his schedule because he is training for another job) and will start at that new job in two weeks. He said he'll be okay, but after next week things might be tight for a little while. I'm glad he told me...I asked him if he wanted to take any canned food tonight and he said "No, not now. I might next week though."

But, the topper? A "camper" who had been attending the summer Wednesday communion service (but not taking communion) came up to tell me that his been working through some of his thoughts about God - and that I and the congregation have helped him to feel God's love. He actually said "you show God's love to so many people." and "God's love shines through you and through the others who work here." He is someone who is always very authentic in who he is...or at least has seemed to be. He's planning to come on Sunday. He hadn't wanted to commune because he thought he couldn't put God's sacrament into his "unclean" body. (Meaning spiritually, not physically).

Tears keep welling up as I think of him. When he said he was wanting to come on Sunday I emphasized that he is very welcome to come - and is welcome to come to communion. I said, "we believe that we take communion not because we are clean, but so that we might be clean. Communion is given to us - and we ask God to work within us...it's assurance that God is working within us."

"That's the conclusion I came to." He responded. "See you Sunday."

Slump

Slump - it's how I'm sitting, it's what I feel my sermons have been in, it's what I feel I'm in. Even my plants are all slumping! Oh, maybe they just need water.

I have ideas. I have energy around these ideas. I just don't have energy around getting other people excited about these ideas. And, I'm feeling a scarcity of these people's time. It's not that people don't want to be committed. It's just there are other life situations that come in.

Man, now I'm just complaining. I have barely gotten back after vacation - I haven't taken the time to sit down and map out what I need to do. It's all possible - I just feel like I'm the one that needs to get organized before any of it happens.

I'm feeling lazy.

So I slump.

In the cups?

I love that as you drive through WI on I-90 and I-94 it's entirely possible to constantly listen to NPR. The stations' schedules may be entirely different and so you might very well listen to the same program two hours in a row - but for the most part it offers the opportunity to be an NPR junkie.

As I returned from a glorious vacation at my family cabin (that's what vacation should be - reading, sleeping, in the water, playing games, cooking, eating, chatting with loved ones), I heard on NPR that Milwaukee topped the Forbes list of "America's Drunkest Cities." Huh, I thought - not too unusual. I've often thought people drink here more than most other places I've lived....until I heard that Minneapolis-St. Paul was #2.

Yesterday morning, it was the front page article. And, wouldn't you know it - not only is Minneapolis-St. Paul second, but Austin, Texas is fifth and Chicago is sixth. So, other than college (which incidentally while I was there I heard a rumor that it was known as a great party college because of one weekend in the spring - not that I think it was considered that by most who attended), the only place that I have lived that wasn't included on the list was Tacoma.

So, according to this list, in order for me to round out the top six, I need to live in Columbus, OH and Boston. How's that for some direction?

Self-Centered

I had an interaction yesterday that bugged me. And, it was glaringly obvious that my role in the interaction was what bugged me. It was also glaringly obvious that the reason the interaction happened at all was due to the other person's insecurities.

I don't think it's always true, but I do believe that most of the time we like someone or something based upon how it makes us feel. If someone makes us feel intelligent or like we have worth, we appreciate that person. If we feel as if they don't really care to know about us we feel indifferent or even dislike him or her.

But, do those people that make us feel like they care really care? Or, are they just better at playing the game of schmooze.

I think I'm fairly good at the game of schmooze. I have begun to realize lately though, that I do disregard some people without really realizing it. I might be fully aware of the person, but choose not to put the energy into an interaction.

At some continuing ed in July I sat down next to one of my classmates and asked him how his week had been. Instead of answering my question he said "You want to sit next to me? I thought you didn't like me!" To be honest, I found some of his actions a little annoying, and I didn't fall into the youngish crowd's way of cliquishly doing things - so I may have avoided some of them. But, I had not consciously thought of avoiding him or whether I liked him or not. But, what did I communicate to him? I obviously communicated something that did not affirm him.

I wonder if I do this in my congregation as well. I've been thinking about how I make people feel.

A short fling

I have just experienced a short-lived relationship. I first developed a crush on this guy right after the toll just as you leave Illinois towards Wisconsin on 94. He passed me as I was about to pass the person ahead of me - and then - get this - he moved into the middle lane!

That's right - he was not a left-lane-lingerer.

Since he was moving about the same speed I wanted to go, I edged in behind him. Each time he passed a car he would return to the center lane - using that left hand lane as the passing lane (as it should be). I would follow behind him anywhere -

well, not quite. We parted ways because he insisted on going around the city of Milwaukee while I very much needed to go into it.

*Sigh*

He was cute and early-30s too.

Waging Tongues

Received an e-mail yesterday from someone who had been an intern at my congregation almost 30 years ago and who is now an assistant to a bishop in another synod that said "I hear you are doing great things at Unity." Received an e-mail today from a seminary professor that said "I have heard great things about your ministry." This afternoon I talked to an intern at another congregation in town who said "members of my congregation are friends with members of your congregation and they say that you are doing a wonderful job."

Why does all of this make me nervous?

I also feel some pride and encouragement with these declarations. But, it does make me wonder, "Who is talking?"

Frustrations & Guilty Feelings

Sometimes it just feels like all the chaos of the congregation I serve falls on top of me - and I can't handle it. At 6:45 tonight, it happened. The industrial freezer in the kitchen broke, the 2 people who are supposed to monitor the building during the Clinic (that just opened its doors) each had life situations that made it impossible for them to stay, the kids who are staying in our building arrived, almost all of the lights in both women's bathrooms were reported out, a few individuals from the soup kitchen "needed" to chat with me, and I was late in setting up our Wednesday communion service.

I was short with the soup kitchen volunteer who discovered the freezer and will need to call him tomorrow. He won't hold the grudge, but I still feel badly. I called the property chair and passed all the building stuff to him (who graciously arrived quickly - and he regularly repeats to me that he is there to support me), slipped out of the conversations with the soup kitchen guests, asked a soup kitchen volunteer to cover the office, and arrived at the worship service 2 minutes prior to 7, having found almost everything set up by the attendees.

Sometimes this job is just so heavy. And, I wonder how I'm supposed to move anything ahead when I'm frustrated by the amount with which I'm just trying to keep up.

I suppose I should take into consideration that I've had two key funerals, a wedding and a renewal of vows all in the last week. I suppose I should take into consideration the fact that the last full day I had off was July 4th. I suppose I should take into consideration that some very good things have happened in the last few days - some good things in which I've had key roles.

I have vacation coming up mid-August...and again early October. I'm counting down the days. (14)

Death and Other Losses

I've been pouty and crabby the last few days and I don't like the pouty, crabby Amused.

I've had many funerals in the last year. So many that I'm no long nervous about them. But the funeral tomorrow is different. When I met him a little over a year ago he was a relatively healthy early 70's guy with a constant story and joke. 7 months ago he was diagnosed with cancer. This funeral is different because I walked with him - I knew him. (As did almost everyone in the congregation). And, I too will miss him.

I'm also crabby because I am anticipating other losses. Two of my secular friends leave very soon for a new city. They are the ones that knew me before I was Pastor Amused and with whom I rarely fall into "shop talk." They are the ones that keep in touch with what others my age (without the demanding careers) are like.

We've had 4 20-somethings staying at church all summer through a mission trip organization (they are the staff that hosts between 40 and 70 youth at our church from all over the country to do mission trips). And they leave in a little over a week. It has been so much fun to have them there all the time. Not to mention the ministry they do.

And, my summer roommate will be leaving the same day the mission trip staff do - likely within an hour of each other. We were just talking yesterday about living with people and I freely admit that I do like to live alone - but I am sure going to miss her when she leaves. My house will be more boring, and the possibility of easy conversation at the end of the day gone.

I am pretty good at being the one who leaves. I don't like being the one who stays. And so I'm crabby - and throwing a pity party for myself. It's not at all attractive.

Out of focus

I'm supposed to be writing a sermon. I didn't preach this morning, and I don't preach next Sunday - but I've still got three sermons in the next week and I haven't started any of them - at least not in earnest.

I'm searching - I'm not sure for what. I want something to inspire me - something to excite me. When this happens I spend way too much perusing the internet - hoping that something will interest me - hoping that something will be intriguing.

There is no order to my search - either my internet search for interesting items or my search for the right way to begin any of these sermons. But, I just don't have the energy to narrow my field of vision. I just don't have the urgency to sit down and type out a masterpiece.

I would love for someone else to swoop in and fix it all for me - my boredom and my lack of inspiration.

Saturday Morning Etiquette

This Spring and Summer I've been a fairly consistent runner. I tend to run at lesser populated times - just after the early morning rush during the week, or right at the dinner hour. And for some reason when I've run on Saturdays it's not been good weather.

Today was different - the paths were packed and I crossed paths with families and dogs and bikers and meanderers as well as a few other runners.

In this area, unless the other person avidly avoids eye contact, everyone gives a greeting as you pass one another. Usually I puff out a "hey" or "hi" in my exhale...saving my breath as I trudge along...and that has seemed to be perfectly acceptable - in fact what many other people do.

But, I believe I just discovered a secret that everybody but myself knows - Saturday mornings it is considered proper etiquette to issue an entire "Good Morning" to all you meet. Even as bikers race by a "good morning" is tossed back. If you pass families ambling down the path it's proper to greet each single person - one "good morning" for the group is quite rude.

Near the beginning of my run, as I discovered this "good-morning-itis" I started to stretch my "hey" to "hey-llo" and near the end I actually started to say "good morning."

I no longer blink when someone calls a drinking fountain a "bubbler" or an ATM machine a "tyme machine" (no, not time machine...which is what I thought they were saying - Tyme is the brand name, like Kleenex is to tissue). I'm getting used to and even picking up some of the idiosyncrasies of the area - but, I guess there are some things yet to discover.

Good Morning.

Cake for Dinner

I really enjoy living alone. I've had some great roommates (and I don't just say that because Belle and Meckhead will read this, but because it's true - they're amazing!). But it's nice to have my own place, to know that I can come home and be a hermit, or leave the dishes in the sink, or clean something spotless and know it'll stay that way until I dirty it. I really enjoy living alone, but everything is good in moderation.

I have a roommate for 7 weeks this summer. A friend of my sister's is taking an intensive graduate program (her MFA - Masters of Fine Arts) - and is in the 1st summer of the program. She moved into my spare bedroom a little over a week ago and I am so glad that she is here.

It was nice as I heard of my grandpa's death and then leaving in a hurry for the visitation and funeral, to know that someone was here and would be here. It's been nice on the day-to-day to know that my house will not be empty when I come home. We have fun together and talk easily with one another.

Of course, there is the perk of the food. My new roomie loves to cook - and bake. It's a great deal, really, 'cause I don't mind the cleaning up. Plus, since she's vegetarian, and her profession requires care for the body, much of the food she makes is loads healthier than what I would make. Except for the cake.

And that's what I had for dinner - cake with delicious chocolate frosting. And a good sized glass of milk. This roommate thing really has its perks!

Oxytocin and Grief

Sometime I need to keep track of phone calls from friends. Not necessarily who calls and why, but the patterns and times. I've wondered for some time if my friends all had some secret spidey sense that told them they should call me because often I'll go a couple of weeks without a call and then in three days I'll hear from 8 friends. It's not like it only happened once or twice - this has been a fairly regular pattern.

In today's "Lifestyle" section of the paper there is a rather long article originally from the Los Angeles Times entitled "The resilient sex gets boosts from biology, behavior" talking of women's biological and sociological aptitude for caring for oneself and each other. (Strange that this article is on Father's Day - the entire rest of the paper seems to be about people's relationships with their Dads). Here's an excerpt:

"The female instinct to call in the helper troops, that network of girlfriends, sets up a chemical cycle unique to women. When females fee stress, Taylor (a social neuroscientist from the University of California - LA) says, the hormone oxytocin is released. That encourages them to protect the kids and start the telephone tree. Contact with children or friends releases more oxytocin, further calming them and everyone around them. The hormone works better at reducing stress for women, Taylor says, because estrogen apparently enhances the action of oxytocin, while testosterone seems to reduce its effect."

I want to keep tract of those phone calls because I almost wonder if there isn't something else - some sense of connection when people are thinking of someone or need a friend.

This week was one of those weeks with lots of calls. And, I am glad to have had them - because it meant that I went into Saturday night and Sunday with more strength and I suppose more oxytocin. You see, my grandpa died peacefully last night at 9:30pm. And, even though I haven't called to specifically tell anyone about it, I feel supported by those friends who I've talked to in the last week or so.

My grandpa was ready to go - he really didn't wake up the entire day yesterday. And not only do I firmly believe he is with God, but he believed it too, and was eager for it.

I'm sad, and I cry a bit because it means that life will change and I will miss him. But, I know that my family will be okay - that my grandma will be okay - she is an incredibly capable person - and has a good network of family and friends.

And, I'm glad that I have a good network - surrounding me in thoughts, prayers and the occasional phone call.

Perspective from the Pew

Just got back from my 1st-year review with the call committee, the council and the assistant to the bishop. And, I needed that to help put things in perspective.

What I got from it is that people aren't seeing all of the effort I put in because it seems that what I'm doing comes naturally. People haven't thought that my sermons have gone downhill since Lent...it's just what I think. People in fact think they can see a steady improvement. Huh.

And, they think I've been wonder woman and gotten things in order. Because people are working together and are feeling like we're doing something good. Because the building is being used and more people are coming to worship.

It was good for me to share with them, though, that I'm not as confident as I come across. It was good for me to share with them that I'm not sure what people are getting from my sermons because often people don't comment and when they do it's "good sermon" with no elaboration on the message. It was good for me to hear that I could be even more pointed and push them more - and that some of them, at least, would appreciate it - and that they would all back me up...maybe not so much in the issue, but that it is my role to do so.

The comment that made me smile the most came from one of council members reconnaissance missions as he overheard some members talking about me and jotted a few notes. They mentioned that they like my singing voice and that my sermons are to the point, but one comment was "She really listens...she doesn't always agree with you, but what can you expect?"

I am thankful that someone at least feels heard. Because I wonder as I dash around and try to juggle everything, as I get frustrated and impatient - I wonder how to give the appropriate time to things and if I delegate my time appropriately.

And, I'm glad that they know I'm going to speak my opinion. Even if it is different than their own.

More on eyes and grandpas

My eye is indeed black. After the puffiness went down, I've got a nice black streak underneath it. Fortunately, my glasses help to disguise it.

This morning I helped move my grandpa from the hospital to the hospice room of a local nursing home. He's the same guy - social, love to philosophize and tell people things. But, he's tired. He frequently needs to close his eyes to rest for a few minutes.

As I sat with him I found myself closing my eyes for a few minutes too. I'm not sick, but I am tired - and my eyes closed easily.

My grandpa's pastor came in about an hour before I had to leave this noon. I was glad of that. I felt that I needed someone to read Psalm 121 and pray. I'm glad I was there.

The car ride back home was long and exhausting. And, my eyes are red and puffy again - from crying this time, not from the injury. I look a mess. But, with perspective, I'm doing alright.

Prayers for my grandpa are appreciated though.

Automatic Shut-off...and on

My grandpa is dying.

He was diagnosed with cancer about 6 months ago which they thought was contained within a small area. Last week they discovered that it was all over his system.

It was my congregation's 75th anniversary celebration this week. It was a huge to-do. It was also synod assembly. So, I've not had a day off in over 2 weeks (didn't even take Memorial Day off...although I did work less (only 6 hours). And, this past week I've been pulling frequent 10, more frequent 12 hour+ days.

So, I haven't really had time to think about my grandpa. I've been a bit stoic and brushing away emotion that comes with knowing that I'm going to miss him. I cried a little the first night I found out, and a little last night, but I think last night had as much to do with all of the stress from the 75th.

Today, cleaning up after the celebration I gave myself what may very well turn into a black eye by bending down too quickly in a darkened room to pick something up and whacking myself right on the cheekbone, near my nose and eye.

And, I cried. I sobbed like a baby in that darken stairwell with my parishioners just outside.

And after I made it to my office with ice, I sobbed some more.

I needed that.

Now, my emotions can be more normal.

Staying Power

Last year I was so looking forward to being settled. And, it hasn't really happened yet.

This is the first time in a long time that I am not packing up and getting ready to move at the beginning of the summer - or looking towards the quickly approaching time that I will leave.

In all my moving around I've formed good friends, but always with the understanding that I would be leaving. Now, I'm someplace to stay (for a while at least) and I'm still feeling somewhat separated.

That's my way of explaining the funk I've been in lately. Really, I'm lonely. And, I'm not sure where I'm headed. Or, what I want to do about almost anything.

There is something in me that is rebelling against staying. It takes boldness and strength to stay. I'm going to - I just don't want to put the energy to creating a healthy living situation...because, well - I'm not so good at creating community for myself (even though I think I'm pretty great at helping others to do it).

What I'd really like would be to have a magic wand waved over my life, to have ready made community, a less-stressful role at work (not a different role...just less-stressful), whatever it is that makes exercising fun for some people in me, and a romantic relationship with a wonderful guy.

Why is everything so much work?

100th Post

According to the dashboard count, this is my 100th posting on my blog. Is there going to be a shower of confetti or should I give out ridiculously expensive prizes to all my listening audience? It seems as if it should be a profound post that leaves y'all contemplating the myteries of life.

I do like marking occasions. I like birthdays and weddings. I like honoring achievement. But, profundity is not in the cards for this day.

But, I suppose that is appropriate. On this quiet blog, a quiet celebration. The purpose of this blog isn't to change the world or to do anything other than to help organize my thoughts and feelings and share them with some trusted friends (and those who find me). And, it's to keep me grounded.

Has it done this? I think it has - forcing me or rather giving me the opportunity to put gut feelings and thoughts into framed words and paragraphs. The Primary Wonder that God is sustaining me in all of the chaos continues to be the base of me - and of this blog.

Throw some confetti if you wish - I'm marking this 100th post with, well, this post.

Just a Few Minutes

I have just a few minutes to be home today. And, while I don't have anything that I really want to do while I'm here at home (although my dishes are calling to me), and lots to do at work...I don't want to go back until I have to.

This morning was a hard one, for no real reason. But, after just a few minutes with some smart colleagues, the day became better. I just needed to get out of my self-pity party (that really has no reason other than hormones) and into doing what I really do love.

I was about to leave the office at 3 today, but was running just a few minutes late. Good thing I was, because my 3:15 appointment that I was reminded about yesterday, showed up 5 minutes early. I'm working with a boy scout as he earns his faith badge or something. (Isn't there something a little wrong about earning a badge for faith?) It was a fun teaching hour - that I hadn't prepared for at all, but with just a few minutes of looking over the material, I was ready.

In college, my friend Kate and I made a list of things you could do in a 20 minute window. We realized that almost everything of any importance could happen in 20 minutes. I don't need that list now to fill my time (not that I did when I was in college, it was just a random conversation that I'm so good at having), but I do sometimes stand in the middle of a room with just a few minutes in which to fill. I think I should add to that list "stare into space and daydream."

No vacation for the mind

I'm on vacation in times past.

Visiting my brother in CA, at his volunteer house brings me back to my volunteer year - at least at the beginning of it before we stopped trying. (It was hard w/ only two - and neither of us came at this thing naturally, so we composted, we recycled, we didn't buy things with lots of packaging, but we didn't really challenge each other about other habits).

My mind has been racing in the last few days because it feels like certain decisions have to be made. Intentionality of work, of carrying out vision, of living in the world. Between talking at a fundraising dinner for my seminary, continuing ed at a clergy event for faith-based community organizing, and coming to crash and be hosted by my brother's volunteer house makes me realize habits I've fallen into, and how I'm juggling different world realities and visions. I wonder how they can be managed together - and the contradictions of living in these different worlds.

But, I'm on vacation. My mind may not stop racing, but I can at least allow myself to be distracted by the sights of San Francisco.

Suffering Sermons

(The title should be said in the manner of the Warner Brothers cartoon character lisping "suffering sucatash")

I preached my last sermon (knock on wood) until Mother's Day. That's right. I've got next Sunday off and the 7th is Youth Sunday in which one of the youth is going to preach. (I feel semi-nervous about that because I've tried to set up appointments to meet with me so I can help him - taking my call to Word and Sacrament seriously - and I'm leaving town on Tuesday. I have already mentioned to the youth director that next year it will be the expectation that the preaching youth speak with me as they prepare the sermon).

Anyway - I've got 21 days until I preach again - it's amazing!

In some of my recent ponderings I've been so very amazed at the power I've been given. How many other people are given the opportunity to present ideas to a captive (ok, maybe only semi-captive) audience weekly? How many other people get to guide people as they think about their lives? It's an amazing privilege. And, an intimidating responsibility.

A responsibility that I'm glad to be free of for a short time, but that I'm sure I'll be glad to pick up again. I need a break. My sermons have been suffering for a lack of a break - for a lack of hearing others preach.

Rest, mind, rest.