Moving Slowly

Since my condo was put on the market four months ago, I have been slowly moving things to P's home. But tomorrow is the big move. Due to the number of times that we've gone back and forth to each other's homes, there isn't too much left - mostly just the big stuff. And, we've got some wonderful friends who are going to help us at each end.

I'm practicing calling P's home, "our home" - but it sometimes comes out "the house." P is working on clearing out things/making space and I'm working on integrating my things into what is already here. It helps that there have been many spaces that have remained empty - or barely filled.

However, in some spaces we're going to have to pull everything out and start over - especially in the kitchen once we also incorporate all of our wedding gifts. But, that will have to wait until after the wedding - and we are already dreaming of the garage sale we'll have next year once we've figured out all the things that we're really doubled up on and/or no longer need.

I unpacked my dry goods and spices yesterday and did my best to "marry" items like flour and sugar and find homes for the many spices that we have. We will have to figure out a better organizational system for those, but they all fit in the cabinet - messily so, for the time being.

I recognize that two people coming together with their baggage - literally and figuratively- is work. I know that creating a home will take more than moving all of my stuff in - but the work that goes into managing a home - paying bills, cleaning the crevices, making decisions on decor - will all come with time and make "the house" into "our home."

The End...Until the Sequal

5:45am, Sunday, June 30, 2013.

My last day as a pastor for the unforeseen future.
I'm up, drinking my coffee, knowing I need to get going, thinking about what is to be done today.

I am saying goodbye to a congregation and a call that has been fantastic and challenging - that has made me question what I am supposed to be doing....but any call would have done that - that has fostered me in what has turned out to be a transition time in my life.

I am saying goodbye today to some wonderful people. Some who give so much of themselves to issues of justice. Some who are so passionate about education. Some who are always thinking about the next kind thing they can do. I am going to miss many individuals. It is hard to say goodbye.

But, what I am also saying goodbye to is the identity of pastor - at least for a little while. And, I'm not sure how that is going to be.

I'm looking forward to being able to put my phone on silent for the evening. I'm really excited about becoming a part of a congregation without having to have any answers or to lead anything (for a while at least). I'm feeling a sense of freedom at having evenings and weekends as my own. I'm excited to take a class regularly because I can have a regular evening available. I'm interested to see how I might engage in further community issues with a little more time on my hands.

But, I wonder where and when I'll have theological conversations and opportunities to study the texts with others (whether other clergy or lay). I wonder what it will be like to not say, "The body of Christ, given for you," looking people in the eye every Sunday morning. I worry that I might never find another kind of work that fulfills me in this way (although, I have never tried). I wonder what I will miss the most: preaching, leading worship, getting to hear challenges of people's lives and talk with them about where God is, home communion visits, teaching Confirmation, working with faithful people dedicated to the message of Jesus Christ.

6:00 am, Sunday, June 30th, 2013. It's time for me to get in the shower. The beginning of what feels to be a momentous day in my life.

Overdrive

I've been in a bit of an overdrive. Moving from one big emotional thing to the next. Trying to juggle the emotions, the tasks, the schedule.

Last night, at dinner and later ping pong (yes, ping pong) with friends - two couples who are just getting to know each other through me - I found myself sitting back and taking it in. It wasn't that I was withdrawn, although I wonder if it appeared that way to others. I was sitting in thankfulness - for my friends and that they can have such fun with one another. For their wit, their kindness, their sense of humor and care for me. For my Pablo and his presence by my side. For my city that I am going to miss big time (but get to visit because it really takes the same amount of time as driving into Chicago).

Today, I get to experience A Prairie Home Companion live for the first time. At any other time in my life I would be giddy and preparing by reading up and looking into things about what was going to happen. And, I'm sure that 1/2 an hour before the show starts I'm going to be super excited. But, it's not time for that yet. I've got so many other emotions and events to get through today before that happens.

There will be a relief when all of the leave taking and the moving is finished. A relief because I will then have some time to sort through emotions - to dwell and process in ways other than writing repeated blog posts.

I am so blessed - to have all of these events and experiences happening. To be able to have these connections with dear people and places. To be able to look with anticipation to what is ahead. And maybe, that can be the feeling that encompasses all of the others - blessed. In the joy, in the thankfulness, in the sadness, in the overwhelmedness - I am blessed.

Business Appreciation

I was thinking about my next oil change. At the last one, they put in some kind of wonder-oil that needs to be changed every 9 months or 8,000 miles or so. Or, at least that's what the sticker says. And, after 3 months of driving, I'm only 1,000 miles from needing an oil change - so I've got an appointment set for next Friday.

I won't have hit the 8,000th mile (or the 9th month) by then, but  by the time I do I'll be in IL. And, I like the automotive place I found. I like the people and trust them. I'm sad to be leaving them.

I'm also sad to be leaving my massage therapist. She has a small office space nearby and is amazing. In addition to the fact that I think she and I would be friends if we met a different way, she is incredibly good at her craft - and not expensive.

And my dentists. Now, I ran into a little trouble at one point, because one of my fillings needed to be attended to 3 times, but they took care of it. They are friendly, good at what they do - and willing to share my info - unlike my previous dentist.

And my dermatologist. She is someone who gets right down to business. After my first couple visits I realized that I should just take all of my clothes off and put on the hospital gown because she was going to look anyway and I'd be stuck stripping in front of her - which is even more awkward than just being naked already. I went in with eczema on 75-90% of my body and through treatment with light and some topical medicine I am down to about 2%.

I'm going to also miss my gas station and my bank and my yoga studio/instructor.

It takes a while to settle into a place. It takes a while to find the businesses and people you trust with your car and your body and your teeth and your money.

Looking forward, I know there will be people in these various professions who I will trust with these things, and yet, I am so thankful for these people and entities in my life - all of them in these last 4 years.

By the Numbers

10 days until my last Sunday as a parish pastor (for a while).

16 days until I move all of my things out of my condo.

24 days until my dad has his last Sunday as a parish pastor (forever).

25 days until condo closing (if all goes well with today's inspection).

71 days until P & I are united as husband and wife.

The numbers are not all that important - except they do show the passage of time. It does feel like so much is flying by. Some things I'm just looking forward for them to be done, such as the move & the closing. Other things I can't wait until they get here, like the week with my family at the cabin (post-dad's retirement) and, of course, the wedding.

Life is changing quickly.

Taking Leave

It's almost 9:30 at night, and I have at least an hour of prep to put in, but I'm going to allow myself 10 minutes of writing - to process - to be in this time when it feels like I am moving from one big thing to another.

Last night was my last council meeting. It wasn't until about 1/2 an hour before the meeting that I thought there would be anything more than the simple "thank you" speech from the president on behalf of the council. Instead, our check in time, which is usually used to have everyone note how they have seen or experienced Jesus in the last month, was used to lift up memories or thank yous to me.

Specific sermon illustrations came out. People feeling warmly welcomed - a lack of anxiety - a sense of joy - around me. Creativity in worship and being able to play and try things out with the other staff members and being able to wrangle and organize 30 teenagers and chaperones. Compassion. The skill I have at delegation - and being able to hear criticism and respond to it constructively. The impact on the kids (younger than teenagers) and on the Confirmation program. Having a theological reason for everything I do (well, almost everything).

I felt a little embarrassed. But, I also felt incredibly supported and known.

It was only two days ago that this whole leaving thing really started to sink in. So, the emotions are just starting to hit me.

I've known I should be moving on - I've recognized that I've not been as called to this work in the last couple years - but saying goodbye is still incredibly emotional - perhaps even more so because I don't know when I will get to be Pastor Becker next.

Then, today, as I'm sitting in the Fellowship Hall waiting for the kids to arrive for the third day of Vacation Bible School, 4-year old Tyler - looks at me intently and says - "You're not going to be the pastor here anymore" in his sweet, four-year old voice.

"But....but, maybe when you are a pastor at another church you can think of us on Sunday when you go to church."

I start to respond but he continues,

"And, I will think of you when I come here on Sunday."

Oh. My. Heart.

Four years old with the wisdom of an 80 year old.
I might have startled him with my tears streaming down my face as I asked for a hug. But, he gave me one and we kept talking after that for a little while until it was time to collect myself and talk about Zacchaeus.

My 10 minutes turned into 15. Perhaps there will be more leave-taking stories to follow.

Housing Exchange

I signed a contract with a realtor on February 25th, which meant that my condo went on the market. I hadn't intended to actually get my condo on the market until April 1st - after Easter, but once I decided on which realtor I wanted to use, he had me sign some papers, took some pictures - and it was up.

Yesterday, an accepted offer was made and signed. (!!) There are still some steps - the inspection, the closing. I am going to owe a little, but it will be a manageable amount (likely close to what I would pay if I had to pay my mortgage and condo association fees in August).

It's a big sigh of relief. And, interesting to be in this process from this end.
All in all, really good for me, especially with all of the other balls that I am trying to juggle at this time.

There is, however, some sense of melancholy with this news. A sense of a time of my life ending - an experience where it was only up to me to make decisions and make things happen. I've been craving this end, and yet....

I celebrate these last 8 years of living on my own.
I'm proud that I have handled problems. That I have created 2 different homes. That I reached out when I needed help, and, with a deep breath made decisions when I needed to.

I'm proud of my condo with the lovely bamboo floors, the exploration with paint (mostly successful), and putting in a new dishwasher.

I am so very relieved that the condo is (probably) sold. It is one less big-life event to juggle. I am so excited for what is coming up in life.

But, I feel the nostalgia seeping into this time as well.

No News

My car radio is out.
Sometimes it kicks back in for a second or more after a bumpy section of the road, but for the most part I'm radio-less.

This is both good and bad.
At a time when it seems I'm constantly diverting my attention with some other decision to make, this gives me time in the car just to be (and drive attentively). It means that my mind has time to mull over things, to turn phrases, to pray without other diversions.

However, it also means I have no idea what is going on in the world. I actually hear about 10 minutes of NPR as I get ready in the morning. I sometimes listen to music at work. I get most of my news from the headlines on my e-mail's login page...but I've discovered that I usually only look there if I have already heard of a story.

In this instance, no news is really not good. I like to be informed - to have an idea of tornados that his Oklahoma and Cicada's that take over the East coast. I like to hear the stories NPR produces and the Community Moments that 88.9 Radio Milwaukee creates.

I do have a little radio I can put in my car for the time being. But, maybe I'll go even further back from the radio and start buying the newspaper again. :-) Nah.

Lame Duck

I wish I could say I accomplished something significant today.
I cleared out e-mail that had piled up over a weekend away.
I edited a couple bulletins that didn't need much editing.
I made bulletins and prayers and lesson readings for 2 Sundays.
I cleaned up a bunch of candles.
I washed my alb.
I organized as much as I could for the time being for VBS.
I packed 3 boxes of books.

I'm a lame duck. I have 3 sermons yet to preach. Only 1 bulletin (and lesson sheet and prayer sheet) to prepare - the others are done. I have some visits to make, a week of Vacation Bible School to walk through (with the others who are mainly leading it), and not much else.

And, perhaps because I don't have a lot to do, I find myself fretting about things I can't do anything about. I'm worrying about timing and the sale of my condo and getting a new job. I'm worrying about how to move all of my things and whether or not I'll make friends in my new community.

I'm worrying because it's late at night. I'm worrying because I didn't exercise today and I didn't get much done today. I'm worrying because I don't have much to get done tomorrow. But mostly because it's late at night.

One day at a time. That's all I can do.

A Little Whine

Waiting is haaaard.

In the Meantime

The Knot tells me that P & I have 112 days until we are married. I have 51 days until my last day at my current call. Time is ticking by - sometimes quickly sometimes ooooh sooooo slooooowly. Of the things I can accomplish, they are getting accomplished. P & I are moving right along in our preparations for the celebration of our marriage. 

My condo is on the market. No bites in the 2 months it's been up, but other than continuing to keep it show-ready and analyze market and what I have it listed for - there isn't much I can do.

I've applied for a couple of jobs, but being the church-world, everything takes a long time. 

So, I wait. And, I try to move the things-in-which-I-have-any-ounce-of-control forward. 

In a brilliant move, P & I have schedule a number of fun activities (thinking we needed to make sure we didn't just become event planners). So, we are looking forward to a weekend at a B&B, a Cubs game, seeing Garrison Keillor at Ravinia, Violent Femmes/Avett Brothers/Edward Sharpe and the Magnetic Zeroes at Summerfest, a Journey concert, and a few other events scattered in. P also has a few races scattered in there.

So, we're not just waiting. We're enjoying the "meantime" fully.

I realize that I have never posted a picture before. Partially, I think, because I started this blog with the hope of some anonymity. But, also because of technology and my reticence to spending time to figure it out. Here is a recent picture from one of our "in the meantime" activities - a Brewers game - with great seats!

 It was an enjoyable game in many ways....Brewers lost, but there were a lot of times they could have tied it up or come ahead - so fans were cheering. And, we got to witness a marriage proposal right below us.

Engagement

On November 18th, 2012, two years and10 months after we met, P asked me to marry him.
We were on our way to a Vegas vacation, and because I had bossily told him I didn't want to get engaged in Vegas, a proposal was not expected. But, he asked me. In his kitchen. The night before we left for Vegas. And I said Yes!

Since we returned from Vegas and up until December 22nd we were in Wedding-prep mode. We have a preacher, a church, a reception facility which includes the caterer, a photographer, and plans for dress shopping. I think we've been quite successful thus far.

But.

The last few days have not been about wedding plans or engagement. They have been about the 4th Sunday in Advent and preaching about Mary and Elizabeth while newborns and pregnant ladies graced every worship service. They have been about an somewhat unexpected death of a parishioner, ministering to her family, and funeral plans. They have been Christmas Eve: preaching, at-church celebrations, and celebrating with P's family. In all of these there has been very little wedding talk.

And. I've liked that.

P and I were able to just have fun with people at a cocktails and carols event and with his family. We weren't planning. We were just Being. Together. I wasn't trying to be this lady planning a big party, but the pastor - who preaches and presides and ministers to.

Because we've gotten some of the big things out of the way, I've been able to sink into Being. I'm sure there will be other times in the next 8 months that I'll be rushing around trying to get things organized. But, I do hope to be engaged in P and family and friends and work and fun - in addition to engagement itself.

Discernment

I thought a certain amount of discernment would be done by now. But, I sit here again, wondering what I am supposed to be doing with my life.

Work is fine. Nothing amazing. Nothing horrible. Except, I am feeling less and less called to what I am doing. I wonder about other ways my call to ministry can be lived out - but in my minimal searching in the last year have found nothing that inspires me.

Honestly, I'm going to take a chance and actually post this, even with the revealing questions here, partly because I figure someone else has to be asking them too, at least internally.

Does anyone else feel called to the work, but not the lifestyle? 
I'm a pk. I knew what I was getting into, but since the very beginning of my ministry I have struggled with the expectations of time and schedule. I knew what I was getting into, but I've been resentful of some of the very things I know other pastors take great joy in.

Does anyone else wonder about taking a break to try some other career? 
Only, as a break, with the option to return? (Obviously not to the current parish, but to parish ministry in general...without all the hoops.) I don't even know what I would be good at. I have some ideas of what I'd like to try, but I'm scared to look into any of them. How do I even begin to examine this?

Does anyone else feel the urge to be a valued member of a congregation rather than the leader?
I have some fantasies about that, actually. "Sure, Pastor, I'd love to fill in for your Confirmation class while you are on vacation. Yes, I would like to head up the service project that can be completed in a month. No, I'd rather not sit on the Stewardship Team, thank you." To be able to worship each week. To create church-based relationships that don't have the power differential of me being the pastor or as colleagues to one another.

Maybe this is just a phase. Maybe it's not. Maybe this is God's call to me - a call that I can't see the entire picture of yet. I have been sitting at this place for a while, hoping for some clarity. Sometimes hoping that it would just go away so I could keep on keeping on. I've prayed - and prayed - and meditated - and prayed. I've talked with my counselor. But, I still sit with the question of what I am to be doing.

Anyone who knows me knows I don't make rash decisions.  And this won't be one either. I continue to pray for some direction, some clarity. And, while patience is not a strength of mine, I'll try to maintain it - and in the meantime, serve God where I am now, to the best of my ability.

But still.....

4+ Weddings and a Funeral

The title is not a movie, but my June. Also, not included at each occasion was a band of hipster-before-their-time British folk.

I sit here the day after my plans stop. I have just been striving to make it to June 26th and haven't looked forward at all. So, today is a day to start looking at what July and August might hold for me.

Three of the weddings were ones in which I officiated. All very different couples from one another. All happily happened. And, I'm glad my role is finished.

One wedding was for dear friends - I had a small, but upfront, role. It was a wonderful weekend to celebrate them. I wish I'd had more time to just settle into that fun. Finally, I joined P in celebrating with friends who were married in South America, but celebrating here.

The funeral - the reason for my post - was my grandmother. Irmgard Anna Elizabeth Knock Becker. So much of my memory of her was as sternish provider. I realized as we celebrated her life that I never doubted that she loved me and I never doubted that I loved her. It wasn't until these later years, however, that we spoke the words.

She was tenacious (which makes me proud to identify with her :-) ), she was faithful, she had strong opinions and shared them. She regularly served others without really talking about it much. And, she is the person who modeled regular exercise.

I have some key memories:

I visited during my first year of seminary (2001-2002). She was ironing and talking about lesbians. Yup. Lesbians. She said to me something like, "I don't understand it. But, I guess I don't need to understand it." I got the sense that she wasn't so sure of my sexual orientation (I'd never really talked about my dating life...partly 'cause I didn't have much of one), and she wanted to know that I'd be loved by her no matter what. I also think that she'd been thinking about it because of conversations happening through her church.

Two memories from being young: 1) Cousins were playing in the basement - with the pool table in particular. One of us decided it'd be a good idea to jam the pool cues into the ceiling tiles and make holes. I remember doing it a couple times. It was pretty satisfying - sort of like popping bubble wrap. She came down those stairs livid. I don't remember what she said or how she said it, but I remember going from a feeling of "hey, this is fun!" to "oh, Grandma's mad. This must have been bad."

2) She and Grandpa were in a car accident and her seatbelt, while saving her, also bruised her pretty badly. I remember being instructed not to make her laugh and being somewhat amazed at the fragility of my Grandma at that time. She had never seemed fragile before to me. I also remember that she would laugh and then wince.

Due to the nature of my job, I'm not able to get to the family Christmas gathering when all the cousins are there. So, I've made it a point to go and visit Grandma at another time. I started to appreciate these - usually Jan or Feb - visits a lot. One of the visits happened to be right after she got home from knee replacement surgery - and it was the first time that I really felt like I was allowed to help her out. It was an honor to get to - to help her with her physical therapy. To help get meals together. To chat with her throughout the day.

I got to see Grandma alive one last time - the day it was decided to not put the feeding tube back in. She'd gone into the hospital due to pneumonia and the day her discharge was being organized she had a major stroke. As I sat with her, as I saw her interact with people in her diminished capacity, I realized a sweetness that I've recognized at other times. But, I got to really think about that sweetness. It undergirded everything - even her opinions - even her tenacity - especially her faith and her care for her family.

Our phone conversations in the last few years were about the same things - the weather, her health, my busyness, my dad's church, the great-grandchildren - and her voice always held a sense of joy to it. It's that quiet, yet strong joy that I imagine her still holding on to as she is welcomed into the life everlasting.

Proof texting life.

I have recognized a trait in me recently that I don't like. Sometimes, when I'm talking through things with someone - trying to see a bigger picture - or find an explanation - I end up making a supposition boldly. Then, I try to explain it...pretty much proof texting life.

Maybe it's why someone has behaved a certain way. Maybe it's an explanation for why people relate to one another a certain way. Maybe it's naming a dynamic bigger than 2 people. Essentially, I make things up. Not in a mean way, but to try to understand it myself.

The problem isn't in the wondering, it's that I don't communicate (to myself or others) that what I'm doing is wondering, instead, I come off as declaring.

I've got this image that what I'm doing is creating a ball of explanation that I spit out with the intention of exploring it - maybe removing the parts that don't work - massaging it to be what might be right. But, instead of working with it, I set it down right away - look at it and say, "This is what it is." Then, try to attempt to make that make sense.

Perhaps this image isn't helpful to anyone but me (but really, who is this blog for?).

It seems to me that I'm getting more assertive and more declarative as I get older. I'd rather maintain my sense of wondering about - of exploring - of searching for what is truth rather than just declaring it (especially since so often lately I've been way off).

Deep down, this comes from a desire to be wise. And, I've been told I'm wise. While I know wisdom isn't in declaring that I know something, it's tempting because when I do hit the nail on the head, people recognize the wisdom.

This is a confession of sorts - with a hope that by confessing, I'll better recognize this before I say something. By confessing, I'll be able to change this piece that bothers me.

This Is For You

Tears welled up yesterday as I handed out bread to people who are slowly - oh. so. slowly - becoming mine.

It's one of the difficulties of transitioning to and associate position - there is another pastor who has been there for over 20 years. He is The Pastor. Certainly not an ego thing on his part, or something he strives to be over and above me. Never would I suggest that - or even think that about him. But, it is the reality.

Additionally, this congregation is much bigger. It takes longer to learn the stories of so many. It takes longer to have pastorly experiences with so many - not to mention so many who are upper middle class (to even whatever is wealthier than that). That fact sometimes exhibits the personality of not quickly sharing difficulty and heart ache.

And so - I was surprised yesterday as I started welling up while I handed out the bread. I was surprised by the importance I saw this gift taking in people's lives. I was surprised to recognize a love for them.

I also was surprised by the wonder I felt. It hasn't been the most spiritually connected transition. I haven't been at the edge of my rope very often - which is most regularly where I am immersed (necessarily) in the wonder of God.

I've been struck by the meal anew. I've been struck by the earthiness of it - the commonality of the elements - the work of creation that goes into it. I've been struck by the gift and they way in which that gift was and is given.

I really feel lucky. Not everyone gets to week after week hand out the body of Christ.

The Examined-(with no clarity)- Life

All in all, life is pretty good.

But, I'm not living a very forward-looking life.

I've so often had a plan. Every single time I've had a plan it's not gone quite as I expected....so rather than a train track with no option of meandering, I've been on what could be more easily likened to a deer path in the woods.

But, I'm currently in a place of unknown. I don't know what I want to work towards making happen. I'm feeling unsure of what I imagine for myself in a year, in 3 years, in 10 years.

I guess it's a one-day/week/month/year-at-a-time approach for the time being. With discernment being something I regularly attempt.

Path-o-logic

In the past months I have had more than the normal amount of time spent alone steering a moving vehicle. Between the driving to work and to and fro the Chicago-land area, and riding my bike, I have found myself with a lot of time to think about paths.

------

Part 1.

Sometimes, when driving through construction late at night, I get the feeling that I'm a vehicle in a video game. The reflectors along the barriers and on the road in front of me create an unreal feeling to what I'm doing. I make myself realize that I'm not in a video game, that if I were to crash my car it would be very real. (I still have moments of dread and fear when I remember the accident I was in last December.) But, the driving offers a sense of detachment.

I've appreciated that time of detachment when it's meant that I'm coming home from work. I've really not appreciated it when it means I'm leaving people I'd rather spend more time with. The amount of driving certainly lends itself to compartmentalizing, only my compartments are far, far apart from one another. When I lived 1/2 a mile from work, it was necessary to work at separating work and play. Now it is already separate. I write this mostly to note it. I don't have a judgement of it - or rather, I have many judgements, but they seem to balance themselves out.

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Part 2.

When I'm on the bike path behind my house, I sometimes look ahead of me and think, "oh my, it looks like it's uphill for a little ways."

I pedal.

I make it just fine.

When I turn around, I feel no real effect of a downhill.

Sometimes, it is to difficult to judge what the path is like when I'm looking ahead into the horizon. It might seem to be uphill, but perhaps it's not. Or, perhaps, it is slightly, but not in a way that I can't make it.

When I look too far out, my judgement of what is to come is blurred - seeming more difficult than it actually is.

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Part 3.

Also on my bike.

I only notice the wind when I am having to fight against it. I have to consciously think about the fact that the wind is propelling me when it is at my back. Hello faith/life-metaphor.

Second in Command

My heart is aching for a woman and her family in my congregation who have, within the last few hours, heard the devastating news that her 20-something son died this morning in a crash.

This morning, I announced three funeral services in the next two days. It seems like a lot, especially because two of the three were relatively young. And now, this one. The young man had joined our church last March.

I keep searching for news because I want more information about what happened. Not that more information would really help.

It's this strange thing where I'm the pastor of many of these people or their families, but not the pastor people expect to see or hear from in an emergency. I will call and offer condolences, but the one who is "on" in the moment of urgency is my colleague who has baptized, married and buried someone from most families.

I recognize that in this is my desire to do - something - anything - to help. That really, presence and promise, time and tears, hope and listening are what I will offer...but not as the first on the scene.

Putt Putt

I like puttering. When I have things I want to accomplish, but the deadline isn't urgent. When I can just slowly do one thing and then another and see some results, small results, but results all the same.

I got up early this morning to putter. Laundry, dishes, putting things away. But, I'm also going to blog and read a little bit.

Actually, part of puttering is that I don't always follow what I say I'm going to do. But, I'm usually doing something productive - like calling with an insurance question, like I just did in the middle of writing the blog.

Sometimes there is a thrill to high pressure - sometimes I can get much more done in that time, but I really prefer puttering.

Lists are helpful, but not always followed. Breaks sometimes occur spontaneously when I've thought of something I want to do. I move along slowly.

Putt....putt......putt....putt. What a nice morning.

Nothing to See Here

A while ago I asked for No Drama! And, I seem to have gotten what I asked for.

I'm not complaining - at all, I just don't always have a story to tell anymore.

It's nice, but it does keep me thinking.

Part of this no-drama-ese is caused because I am no longer the one in charge. I no longer have to make a lot of decisions. I no longer solely bear the weight and responsibility for a community. I even don't bear the brunt of this weight and responsibility.

I feel different because of this. I'm not exactly sure how to describe it, but I don't feel as vibrant or sharp - I don't have to be. At the same time, I physically and emotionally feel more solid, less anxious. Was I beginning to develop unhealthy co-dependant tendencies? I felt more alive when I was working my way through the muck of individuals, institutional and societal problems.

There are certainly parts of me that miss the intensity of what was. There are certainly parts of me that are grateful to no longer be embroiled in that intensity.

This doesn't make for a good story - but, it's currently a chapter in my story.

I do wonder what's being planted...what am I tending...what am I preparing for? We shall see....regardless of what it is, I still wouldn't mind NO DRAMA.

Party Politics

I believe I was in 2nd grade in the fall of 1984, when the presidential race was between Walter Mondale and Ronald Reagan. Each class voted, and I was aghast to learn that not only did the majority of my elementary school lean right - at least when it came down to Mondale vs. Reagan - but so did my best friend. (I do recognize now that MN was the only chance that Mondale carried anyway - and barely, even though it was his home state).

I'm not sure it was with great intent by my parents, but I was certainly taught from an early age that the Democratic party was the one who regularly had candidates that were the "good" candidates. It became a running joke that the candidates to vote for were the ones who were running against the people whose campaigns signs were in my neighbor's yard. I grew to have major assumptions about people who supported Republican candidates. When my senior English teacher somehow made it be known that she was Republican, I'm pretty sure I responded, "But, teachers are supposed to be Democrats!" At least in my head I responded that way.

College brought me into contact with more people who surprised me with their political leanings...but they were from North Dakota, or small towns. They just hadn't yet learned any better, I decided and judged. And, perhaps I was right in some cases.

But then, following college, I became immersed in liberal - even radically liberal - do-gooder communities. I loved that. That was home. But, it continued to verify to me that Democrats = good, Republicans = bad, or at least misguided.

Now I find myself living and working in the most Republican county in the state. It means some of my neighbors and congregation members have as many strong beliefs and prejudices about those liberal Democrats as I do about Republicans. It's not unusual for me to be on the edge of a conversation at church where people are mocking the existence of global warming, or to receive e-mail forwards from parishioners blasting health care or promoting distrust in Obama. For the most part, these huge statements have either surprised me too much to respond appropriately, or they have not been in contexts where I could easily respond. I'm still figuring that out.

Through the wonders of Facebook, I am sometimes able to tell who associates themselves with which party, and I have regularly been surprised by recognizing people that I thought were of a similar framework as myself associating themselves with the Republican party. I must interject that I have long recognized that I can love people who are Republican - 3 of my 4 grandparents, some other family members, friends, etc. But, these loved ones haven't stopped me from having preconceived notions about those from "the other side."

Last night I got into an incredibly interesting conversation with a couple who I know are Republican. But, it was a conversation not so much about party politics, but about value and hardship and limited resources in inner city schools. I was amazed to hear their point of view was similar to mine. It was one of realism, compassion, a recognition of a broken system, of systemic oppression. I was impressed.

They have no idea I know they are Republican. I'm not sure if they have an idea of where I fall. But, as I sat there in the conversation I realized that I had underestimated them, simply because of a label. I have been underestimating many in my congregation, simply because of an income bracket or a political label. I've recognized intelligence, but not compassion.

This actually makes me more excited to do my ministry. I obviously still hold my beliefs - my prejudices and assumptions - those haven't been broken open by one conversation. However, I am feeling more hopeful about how people will respond to a call to justice - I'm feeling more hopeful for what my work is and my effectiveness. I'm feeling hopeful that my assumptions may not be the end of the story.

(B)Logging

It's time I blog again. I've not had much motivation to blog. I don't have much that I'm needing to process - at least not in writing. Or, I'm getting that writing processing in other ways. But, there are a few reasons for me to blog right now.

1) As with journaling, I think it's important to log the times that are low drama - the times that aren't needing processing - just as much as the high drama - high, need of processing times.

2) I'm enjoying reading the blogs of friends who have continued or recently picked up blogging again.

3) My brother commented that I hadn't blogged recently :) If someone, especially my brother, comments, it gets me thinking about what I might want to say.

4) I'm currently sitting on hold on the phone with a wait time of 20 minutes.

That which should be logged includes both work and play. Work is going well. I'm continuing to grow into this role. I'm starting to be more challenging in sermons and Bible Studies. I'm still feeling like I'm growing into the role more than growing in general, if that makes sense. I always think new roles have a high learning curve of the people and place right at the beginning. While that certainly contains a degree of growth (and that growth - of learning the people and place - is usually what people recognize as growth because they note how things begin to be tailored to their situation more), it's not the kind of growth that I'm ultimately wanting to gain in this role. That growth - of learning about a larger church - about team ministry - about how to not micromanage - is happening, but the other kind of growth needs to happen first - or at least to be the priority - if I'm going to get the most out of the other kind of learning.

But, I'm feeling like I'm given both responsibility and flexibility. I feel respected and accepted. I feel like I fit what I'm supposed to be doing and am doing what I enjoy. I am happy. There is still the challenge of managing time to an appropriate level - but I think I'll always have that pull as long as I continue in this field - or any field that isn't simply a 9 to 5. And when have I ever considered a 9 to 5?

I've always been conscious of the work and home/play balance, but I've had even more of a pull to not over-work this past month because of a relationship with a wonderful man that has been developing. I don't intend to go into great detail in this format about him or our relationship, but I am happy and myself with him.

Finding time with friends is a bit of a challenge, but it has always been - and a bit more so once I moved and switched days off. I'm grateful for friends - both clergy and not - who "get it" when I can't stay out late on a Saturday night. Who I'm able to pick up easily with after not being with them for a month or two - or more.

So, that's my log. Things are going well. I am challenged and accepted - having fun, finding time to go deep with people. I am happy.

Pulling Together

I'm feeling like I'm getting back to normal - like I'm able to focus on others; like I'm getting time to relax and rest; like I'm no longer on the end of my rope.

Part of it is the process of getting settled. I am enjoying these new places - both home and work. Work feels like it can finally settle in because I know that my colleague will be around for a little while and won't becoming bishop. I know that my job is going to be what I expected it to be when I took the call. I know that I'm enjoying myself, and am pretty confident that I will continue to enjoy myself.

Home is settling. I do have some work to do. And, I will have little projects here and there - as time and money allow. I like having those projects. I like that I get to continuously make this a more comfortable place. I maybe should knock on wood w/ this, but for the time being, this is fun.

And, car. It's getting figured out. I did get a citation. I'll pay it and let the points come off my record. I bought a car that I picked up yesterday and while it's not quite the same quality that my Civic was, it's a nice little car that runs well and that has what I need in it.

Finally, I'm pulling together because I've finally gotten to find time to spend with some people who I haven't seen much of, to make some of the phone calls I owe, to make social plans. I am still missing some folks - I miss them a whole lot - but as I pull together - as I settle - that too will come around.

NO MORE DRAMA!

I'm praying for no more drama. I feel like these last 3+ months have been all about the drama. Leaving the old church, starting the new church. Then, house hunting. Condo-buying.

I closed on Friday, the 13th (of November) - then on the 15th I caught some crazy bug that kept me from a Sunday morning in which I was supposed to preach. I was also supposed to start ripping out carpet. I did that the next day - put in floors, painted walls (taking a week off to do so). Then, the next weekend, the day after Thanksgiving, I moved.

That was a week and one day ago. I still have boxes. I'm still settling in. Tomorrow I host my first gathering here (other than the night of my closing): my book club. It won't be all put together, but I hope to have to reasonably so.

But, beyond that, there has been other drama.

Drama #1

The week before my move I received a call from the council president of my former parish telling me the following story:

She had received a phone call that morning from a police officer who had been called to a tavern the night before. Apparently, somebody called the police because they overheard an intoxicated individual talking about how they were hired to kill the pastor of my former parish. Since there had not been a pastor there with any regularity since I had been (they just called someone who will start mid-Dec), they decided I'd better know about it.

I stayed at a friend's house and tried to live life as normal. But, it was hard. I was unnerved. I thought about how people who live with this every day use up so much energy forcing themselves to actually live and not just be afraid. A couple days later I ended up talking with one of the police detectives who and apprehended this gentleman. Someone w/ mental health issues and who was an alcoholic. Someone who would never be hired for this kind of thing. Someone who was trying to prove he was somebody by talking big. Someone who I might have not even known who I was - or anything about me. And, maybe it wasn't even me he meant.

I'm feeling like that is resolved - especially since I've moved since then. But, it took a mighty bit of energy.

Drama #2

My colleague - the one who made accepting a new call in a team position very attractive (a large part of why I took this call was to work with him) - was one of the "identified leaders" to be the bishop for my synod. Yesterday and today were the election. He did quite well, but ultimately is not the called bishop.

But, what this has meant has been a bit of the unknown. I haven't wanted to plan too far ahead, not knowing what was going to be. I haven't wanted to make too many assumptions. The possibility that he would be bishop and not sr. pastor always loomed over any type of planning conversation, even though we mostly didn't talk about it.

So, that drama is resolved. And, now, it feels good to be able to settle in.

Drama #3

The freshest drama. I was in a pretty major car accident today. I am physically okay. I actually don't feel anything. I might tomorrow - I don't know. I had a small headache earlier, but that partly felt like the caffeine withdrawal (that I've been going through b/c I haven't had much coffee lately) more than anything.

I came around a corner too fast. I knew it was too fast, and was slowing down. But, then, I saw a car in the right-hand shoulder. And, I swerved to miss it. The swerve took me too far the other way - I lost control - and attempted to swerve the other way - which drove me right into the other car (a van, actually).

My airbags deployed. My tire and front passenger side are smashed up. I got out - really shaken. An ambulance was right behind me and stopped to make sure I was okay. He called the police, and I did too. So, two cars came, which turned out to be good.

The first started talking to me - and I'm actually not sure how the second knew to drive around and look for someone else. But, he left and I guess came back with someone who was very drunk.

Five minutes earlier, that drunk person had been in the vehicle I hit. He had hit a pole and nursed the car to the place it was. Left the car - got out - and started walking.

I'm haunted by this. And, I may later come back to edit this - but right now I have to write it down. I'm haunted by two things. One, that I did lose control of my car. It was frightening to drive tonight (a rental car, that is). I was the slow-granny-driver in the far right lane driving 1/2 a football field's length away from the car in front of me. I think I'll get more courageous as time goes by - but it's very unnerving right now.

Secondly, I'm haunted that I hit near the driver's side. Had that man not gotten out of the car - had he not gotten out of the way - I'm not sure what would have happened.

I'm tired. It's been a long two days. But, really, it's been a really long month. A lot of good. But, some pretty dramatic bad. Right now, I just want to sleep. Tomorrow, I hope I laugh a lot. Monday, I have many, many details to take care of. Tuesday - I'll get back into the swing of work. At least, that is what I hope. And, I'm needing to look at this as one day at a time. I'm overwhelmed. And grateful that although there have been some harrowing situations, no one has been hurt.

I am safe. I am in a secure home. I am in a secure workplace. I will eventually figure out what needs to be done regarding car things, and I will face the consequences. And, I thank God the consequences are not more than money, time and confession can fix.

Zoiks!

I just need to record this idea somewhere. If I happen to have short hair again - the style it is now - at Halloween, I should really go as Velma from Scooby Doo.

Wrinkle-Free

Well, I'm not wrinkle-free, but apparently the amount of stress I carry in my face, or rather, the lesser amount of stress, is noticeable.

I ran into some former parishioners at a synod event last week and two of them commented that I appeared less stressed and more relaxed. Others have made comments as well.

Now, I did start using a different product on my face about the time I started my new job. That could certainly have something to do with it. But, I do think I'm more relaxed, less stressed in my work life.

I may have bitten off a little more than I can chew in regards to the home improvements I'd like to make on my condo, but that's another story.

I can't say that work is perfect. But, I can say that I am definitely realizing the benefits of not being alone in this work, of being part of a staff. I am more relaxed, and I am enjoying myself every day.

Cleared for Landing

At the time of my last blog post, I was in the process of making the big decision to buy a condo. This condo is fine - it will be lovely once I take off the wood paneling and paint and change the floors. It's a steal in many ways - two bedroom, ground level (and so my own entrance), a block from a park w/ an entrance to a much longer biking/running/xx skiing path. It seems to be a quiet, yet populated community. With a good mixture of people who are older and people in their 20s and 30s.

I'm sooo excited (and nervous!) about this! I'm pumped to get to start putting my own touches on my living space - but that's also unsettling because I'm not sure I'm cut out artistically for that. We'll see. I'm taking advice as I go along. I feel pretty confident in finding color/what not - that I like. It's the special methods of painting I'm not so sure about.

However, as I was considering buying, I found myself worrying about community and place. When I started to consider taking this new call, I was pretty adamant that I didn't want to be too far away from the friend-community I've worked really hard to build. 'Though this call is in the same synod, it is 40 minutes from my current community. Not that it's that far from all of my friends, but that is a bit of a distance from some with whom I spend a great deal of time.

Yet, I also didn't want to be too far away from work.

When I began to consider where I would ideally land, I thought of a particular intersection of highway that felt like it would get me quickly either direction. I ruled it out pretty quickly because of the cost of housing in the area I thought had the most homes. Turns out, my new home is closer to that intersection than any of that housing would have been! And, it was not too costly.

But, then I got to thinking. Will that be my community? If I'm living in between my social life and my work life, will I really live my life? Will I work at all to meet people in that area, my new neighbors? Or, will I be too full of old friend and new work communities to even give it a shot?

Will I begin to learn the legalities of that city? Will I know who the mayor is and what school district and follow referendums? Will I care if I don't really know others who care?

I hope I will. I'm recognizing that I'm now, in some ways, going to be juggling three communities. I suppose that, as has been my pattern so far, I will slowly integrate - slowly become part of - this new community too. I sure hope so - I don't want my community to be fully dependent on my car...

Why I'm Comfortable

Before I get to my real post I'd like to brag: My day off began with coffee and a chocolate croissant.

It's been an incredibly full week, but a good one too. I feel really comfortable in this new call, which makes me wonder about a couple different theories, that I'm not completely sure I want to fully admit or commit to.

First, I honestly do think it is a culture thing. This new church is so much more like the congregation in which I grew up. The people are like people I went to high school and college with - people that I volunteered with - people I connect with more naturally due to common interest, common experience. I get this culture. For better and for worse, I feel at home in this culture - and natural. I think I also bring some experience which will allow me to compassionately and authentically challenge - but it is also less work for me to find myself in the middle of this place.

This of course, makes me mindful of the balance of comfort - and being called out of what is comfortable. I struggle with that - with accepting that it might be okay for me to be in a call where I'm very much similar to everyone else. Where I feel at home pretty much right away. Because I so value diversity, I've sometimes gone away from where it is I'm most comfortable. And, now I find myself in it. So I have the dueling emotions of relief and guilt that I am so comfortable already.

Secondly, the part I really haven't thought too much about - but that does rumble inside my head: I am not in charge. Yes, I have responsibility. Yes, I am still Pastor. But, I'm not carrying the full weight.

I've been a little amazed at how easily I've slipped into the supportive role...of course, I am just starting to learn the congregation - so it may be that I'm less invested...but I also think I'm just naturally a team player - and not necessarily one that needs to be the lead.

So, that does make me wonder about the environments and levels of responsibility to which I'm called, especially as I recognize how much more energy I've had this week (even as I've been exhausted...funny, that). Maybe it's the change up - maybe it's the level of support at my previous call - but, I'm feeling much more at home in this situation where I am not where "the buck stops."

I'm not making grand declarations, nor am I putting myself in a box, but I am noting the incredible change and wondering about my skill set, what I enjoy, and my temperament and what that means for now and for the future.

Since it seems I'm forecasting posts now: The next post will be about community and where I land.

Beginning Again

Today I begin as Associate Pastor at a new church.

Obviously, much has been in the works - interviewing, discerning, deciding, announcing, leaving, resting. But now, I'm jumping in - with excitement - and nervousness.

I have many thoughts about how starting this second call is different than the first one, most markedly, I believe I'm just calmer overall. But, that will have to wait until another time.

Now I have to get a little more coffee and start to get ready.

Primary Wonder - revisited

Today is a day to blog.

I started (bright and early - 7:30am) today by leading devotions at a board meeting and read the poem that is the base of this blog. It was a good way to start the day.

Two lengthy meetings, one text study and one hospital visit later I found myself at home, having already put in a 7-hour day...and wanting a beer and to be done w/ the day.

On my way back to church I dropped off some mail and so passed by the apt complex where some parishioners live - just as they were exiting on their way to church (with a bunch of cans for our recycling that earns money for the church). I gave them a lift...and from that point on thing after thing happened that meant that I got to be helpful, to assist, to be part of the body of Christ, to be pastor in a wide array of situations.

One of the people whom I've been meeting w/ every other week came by on an off week to tell me that he made some connections and has a case worker now, who is providing him with a counselor. He's got two job interviews tomorrow. He wanted to say that he probably wouldn't be back. He looked so much more at peace than he has for the last 6 months. I was happy to send him w/ blessing - and loved his grin as he walked out after the meal.

I got to talk w/ a college-aged parishioner whose family has experienced some trauma recently. I am one of very few who know about it, but she knows I know. After talking with her and offering an ear or support in whatever way, I told her that I was praying for her. I continue to tear up as I remember that she looked me in the eye and said, "That actually helps me a lot."

I helped a woman who had talked with me a year ago when she lost her husband. I remembered her once she talked to me again - but she wasn't the one that needed help. She was bringing someone else who needed help - so I helped her help someone else. We got some information, and then connected him w/ the person who helps out w/ clothing. I got to overhear the following statement said with glee: "We've got some clothes that have been waiting for a man with a 40" waist!" What a great statement!

Our cook burned himself on the stove tonight. I think he was going home to put ice on it, but I caught him before he went and mentioned that I'm sure the Free Clinic would be willing to help him out. I didn't do a lot there, but it was fun to be the connector - to see the director of the clinic leading him and tsking about the burn. And, it was good to know that it was taken care of.

Then, worship - with a gathering of people, 1/3 of which were new. The joyful conversation. The ways in which we got to share, even when people first said they didn't know what to say. The affirming welcome that was offered.

Days pass when I forget the mystery....(but) you O Lord, Creator, hallowed one, hour by hour, sustain it.

Foraging Ahead

Twice today I stayed in the moment, listened to my emotion and my gut, communicated what I needed to communicate. Once was with my evil doctor (the dermatologist). I didn't really get everything I want, but I was able to communicate clearly, and got more than I have at other times. I may not go back to him, but I will try what he prescribed this time. He is really the antithesis of holistic health, and not a great listener either.

The other was a clarifying conversation with someone who I feel I can now say is a friend. I wasn't sure how to approach the conversation, but I knew that I needed it to happen. And so I bumbled, but it was okay. And, I felt better about my friend, about myself and about the whole situation.

The path is being cut, forged through. I'm not done - there will be more situations soon where my emotions and guts need to be consulted, and clarity of words held at the same time. But, I feel good about today.

Cutting the path

I'm feeling like I'm in new territory once again. Territory where I need to trust my gut and my emotions. A path that hasn't exactly been cleared yet, although, there may be a faint path where others have gone before.

What I'm feeling a need for is a compass, something to help me to decide direction - something to clearly guide me. I'm praying. But, I will admit that I'm not so sure that crystal clarity is going to occur.

What's funny is that these themes do keep swirling around each other. It's not one thing, it's many. My task will to be to ask questions and then respond out of what I think and feel. I'm good at that first task but hit or miss on the second.

And, I wonder why I sit here on Saturday, July 4th, working on a sermon, resenting that I couldn't go out of town with friends. I want to escape decision making for a little while. To be airlifted off the path, even if I have to be dropped back again.

For the weekend, I'm camping out here - until that time that I need to start poking around and feeling my way through the forest. The path is always here, and so the tasks are not forgotten.

Feet

Facebook status updates aren't sufficing for "what I'm thinking about." What I'm thinking about (at the moment) isn't pithy or funny. I'm thinking about feet, which, one might say, could be pithy and funny.

My feet were hurting on Friday (and a little bit yesterday) from the amount of walking I'd been doing. Also, because my running shoes are not supporting me like they used to. That's what happens after 4 years of use. (I really need to stop buying other things (ie. new computer) and get new running shoes if I want happy feet again).

Friends were in town on Friday and we walked around the lakefront, in neighborhoods and then went to Summerfest. During our walk we had a difficult time figuring out where we might use "the facilities" and M said that at these times she always thinks about the assertion that our feet are connected to other parts of the body, and the one connected to the bladder is the heel. So as one walks, each time the foot hits the pavement, there is a reminder of the need to find a restroom.

In the last 6 months or so, I have noticed that I've developed the tendency to stretch and rotate my feet. Part of this has something to do with past injuries, part of this has something to do w/ my decrepit running shoes. But, I wonder if part of it, too, is if I'm preparing myself to use my feet differently.

One of my ordination texts was Isaiah 52:7-10:

How beautiful upon the mountains

are the feet of the messenger who announces peace,
who brings good news,
who announces salvation,
who says to Zion, ‘Your God reigns.’

I chose it because I had heard a great sermon (given at the Presiding Bishop's installation) that focused on where feet went. I also chose it because I do love my feet. I'm thinking about where my feet are going and in what way I'm walking. Lately, they've been traveling more and more with friends. Lately, at work, they've been switching places with those I had previously been leading - and I am now following. Lately, they've been feeling a little ancy.

I'm thinking about my feet. New shoes, a pedicure, summer time, and where those feet go. It could be a pithy statement, but I don't want it to be.

She's got the I-yi-yi-yi-yi-wants

What do I want?

I don't know a lot of the time. But, it's something I'm needing to be paying attention to, because I so quickly pay attention to what other people want.

What do I want?

I guess I do know some of it - respect from all, love from some.

I want to have deep friendships and meaningful work.

I want to sleep well at night.

I know the big picture wants. But, in the moment?

Me knowing what I want in a particular moment doesn't always happen.

I can solve things, fix things, make things happen, especially for other people.

But ask me what I want, I have a hard time saying.

Right now, I just want to know what I want.

Variations on a theme

It's funny how themes sometimes come together at the right time.

I put off sermonizing for a wedding until the day of...and the day of gave a perfect illustration with which to map out the sermon.

As I had already been preparing to preach this Sunday on a piece of Scripture where Jesus calms the storm in the midst of the sea, Thursday night brought frightening thunder.

Life events lately have somehow had themes as well. Curiosities, possibilities, stability...not just one area of life, but spanning at least a couple.

Right at this very moment, I'm a little nervous about all of the travel I'm wanting to plan - and pay for. I started to get a plane ticket but had to back out (with the grace of a one-time "get out of reservation free" option through Expedia), because I stupidly didn't check my schedule. Then, I started to search for a ticket on Megabus... but took too long and when I attempted to log back in, it wouldn't let me. So, my path forward is going in fits and starts...with some diversions along the way.

That actually describes how I'm feeling about many of my tasks at the moment...even in getting ready for my day. All variations on a theme.

I'd be ready for a theme that rang with the joy of vacation...

Not an absence, just a re-routing.

I have been blogging, just not posting.

There is something in blogging that is safe - I don't see the expressions on your faces as you read; I'm not even exactly sure who is reading, or when y'all will read this.

But, blogging isn't safe at the same time. For the same reasons listed above, but also, because it's not dialogue.

I learn a lot about myself as I write and as I type. It's why I journal (both w/ pen and paper and on a computer...different beauties to each method). And, I learn a lot about myself as I write with the recognition that others are going to read.

But, I also learn a lot when I dialogue.

And, I'm finding that I'm wanting to be private in certain things. Which isn't all that surprising. But, means that I don't really have a lot to say here for all to see.

No Net

Today was Palm Sunday - wait, no it was Passion - or, a bit of both. I'm not sure when and where Palm Sunday and Sunday of the Passion combined, but that's how we do it. Actually, I really like the quick switch - I like that it shows the glaring mirror of how fickle humanity can be.

So, in addition to processing - inside for the first time due to sleet - from the Fellowship Hall to the Sanctuary....in addition to me barking to those people who were already sitting in their pews to get up and walk around in the procession (WALK! if you are physically able!)...in addition to some strange rearranging of worship to help people recognize what we were doing (since they were not in the Fellowship Hall at the beginning to understand) - I decided to preach an impromptu sermon.

I was standing up there, during the reading of Mark 14 & 15, a little miffed that it felt like people were just there for the spectacle, and realized that I wanted people to hear why it's important that we actually be the crowd.

I remember some of what I said, and I'm told it was actually a good sermon. But, there was no net. I just got up there and started talking. It was fun - and nerve wracking - and felt bold, and audacious (I've been using that word a lot lately). But, the Spirit flew - and at least hit some.

PostSecret Sabbatical

For some time I have really enjoyed the blog "Post Secret". It regularly makes me smile, pray, laugh, cringe, cry and identify with others.

In counseling I'm working on paying attention to my emotions - something I have learned very well how to push down. Doing this is a little frightening - mostly because I am having to learn a new balance, especially at work. Things are hitting me differently (or I'm responding to them differently) which then means I have some stronger reactions.

I teared up a week ago while teaching Confirmation - in a good, emotionally charged way. It was depth-of-my-soul stuff that we were talking about, and it hit me. Especially hearing teenagers' reactions, thoughts and questions.

I felt threatened in one aspect of the council retreat yesterday, and on further reflection realized I did so because one of the things the council discussed focusing on is something that I tried to garner support for (including from some of the people at the table)- put a lot of energy into - and that crashed and burned. But, recognizing this emotion, even if it's a little late, allows me to approach this next attempt with history and communicated expectation of involvement by others.

These are just two examples - there are many others, easy and difficult, good and bad, of how my attention to emotion is impacting my day-to-day life.

But, when I just sat down to read PostSecret today, I was overwhelmed with emotion. It was too much. I wonder if some of my attention to it has been that I feel the range of emotions as I read it. And that I needed to feel them.

But now, even though I consider it a marvelous endeavor, I may need to take a break from PostSecret.

Confidential to Belle

I love you and your demonstrativeness!!!

Slow-burner

I've heard romance compared to a fire - slow burning that lasts a while (as long as that which is being burned lasts) or quick burning. (I actually hope for myself that it's a combination of both.)

Friends can be like this too, I do believe. This morning as I wake up I am thankful for one of my steady-eddy friends - one of those slow-burning ones who is never very flashy, never very demonstrative. But she's solid and dear and fun and smart.

The Story

Not just one of my favorite songs from 2007 (Thank you Brandi Carlile).

I had an intense evening. Good ministry that mostly consisted of listening and praying. I felt good about it. I felt like I was once again in a groove. Not fully (worship wasn't the greatest), but enough that I felt inspired by my job.

One of the conversations was with a man who is again thankful that he has been able to work this past week. After quietly handing me some cash for me to "pass on" to someone when they need it, he sat with me as I ate.

We started talking about movies and he said that he sometimes gets the same feeling in movies as he does in church. As I thought about it, I was fascinated. Worship is a retelling of a story - other people's experiences and viewpoints in regards to God - identifying with that story and figuring out how it impacts your life. Which, a good movie does too.

It was an interesting conversation. I think the story of God is more transforming, and is a promise in addition to a story. But, food for thought...

Just like Kate Winslet

Kate Winslet is the March 2nd Time magazine cover story. I have always liked her, but didn't expect that she would say something with which I could identify.

She says, "I come from a long line of real cart horses. Very stoic, insides-made-of-iron people. So I can take any s___ you can fling at me. I can cope with any workload. I can deal with lack of sleep. I can multitask like you've no idea. But two weeks ago, I actually had a panic attack. My first one. I didn't know what it was!"

Yup - I'm just like Kate Winslet. Well, maybe not just like. I have no little golden statues signifying success hanging around my house.

I'm actually doing pretty well. I feel like my counselor is a good fit. I've got some work to do, but I'm feeling really well-supported and like I can be more myself. I'm not feeling nearly as fragile as was a few weeks ago.

Messages

What do we believe - about ourselves, about others?
How do we know what we know?

Someone believes he knows the sin of another, but can't see his own.

Another believes that the story she told her class (as part of a writing assignment) didn't represent a loved one well (a loved one no one knows or ever will) and wants to take it back.

Another is hearing rumors about someone with whom he is friends. He is helping this one and while he easily deflects the "warnings" - they are "getting to him." He came to me to find out if the one about this person stealing from the church is true (it's not). He also wanted to be assured about the way he is handling the situation.

Another talked to me tonight because he started working a job that includes a lot of free alcohol. He is concerned about how he will handle it. He says he believes he can....but why did he talk to me? I told him I'm going to be checking in with him each time I see him - and gave him my card to call me if he needed to talk. I also told him about AA meetings. He was more than a little interested. He knows he's walking a thin line.

And then there is me. I am now seeing a counselor for anxiety. I don't know if it is that my anxiety triggers self-esteem issues, if it's the other way around, or if it is a circle with one feeding the other. But, something in me tells me that I'm failing - that I'm only worth what I can accomplish, not simply because I am.

Intellectually, I know I'm wrong. But, these thoughts sneak from my subconscious into my consciousness when I'm at my most vulnerable - stressed out, or completely relaxed.

Me, being who I am, am very well aware of this. And, I feel like I'm on the verge of doing some very good work that will make me a healthier person. But all of these messages that we tell ourselves, that we believe about ourselves and others, that we give to one another....where do they come from? How do we consciously and unconsciously choose what to believe? And, how do we sort through them?

Energy

I'm experiencing the Sunday morning blah again.

The urge to skip out on all of the responsibilities I have for today.

I think it's because I told someone earlier this week that I like the tasks of Sunday morning, but not the demands of others.

If it were just about getting up front and leading worship; if it were just about going and teaching a Bible Study; I would be ok. But, I have two meetings to follow the Bible Study. And, the Sunday morning pile on is not a holy dogpile, but the number of problems and issues that people tell me about - all of which I ask them to tell me later or write it down for me....but even if I'm not having to handle it right then, I feel their weight.

Today will be a good day. New members, good worship, Bible Study, getting some good work going. But, it all takes different energies. And balancing those energies requires even more energy.

I wish I could plug in to something to give me the jolt I need. Instead, I'll down my 3rd cup of morning coffee and be on my way.

Ok...I Know...No

I just returned from a short "weekend" trip to visit my grandmother who is recovering from a knee replacement. After 3 weeks in the hospital and then at a nursing facility (with a special kind of bed for her knee), she got home on Tuesday and on Thursday night I arrived.

It was a little miraculous - I actually got the chance to help my grandma out. My fierce independence comes from both sides of my family - and my grandma is no exception. Up until her surgery she continued to do things that she really should have had other people do.

Last night, as I was checking to make sure she had everything she needed she was trying to commit to memory the earliest she could take her next pain pill. I told her and then reminded her that if she had any question, she could certainly wake me up. Her response: "Ok. Pause I know. Pause No." Meaning, I understand and thank you, but no, I won't be waking you.

With my grandma, this time around, it was easy to just go ahead and do for her what she had a hard time getting to. However, it never works to ask her what I can do to help her.

I know I'm much the same. It was a privilege to be able to help my grandma - and fun to be with her.

Grandma being off her feet also meant that I got to sit down with her and her recipe box and, as I copied some of them I got to ask questions about them and hear what she had made some of the recipes for. One of her recipes called for wild rice. Grandma mentioned that she puts the seasoning packet from the Uncle Ben's wild rice box. Because I mentioned that I would probably buy in bulk and would want to look at the ingredients in the packet - Grandma made me find the box she had and take it with me. (There are 23 herbs and spices....so, maybe I won't be buying in bulk).

I also left with a Krumkaka Iron. One my parents gave her early on in their marriage, but that Grandma never uses. I've always borrowed my mom's in the past - but have had to remember to do so at Thanksgiving - and have intended to get my own for a couple of years.

Finally, I got a couple days away where I only had very simple tasks to do. I read a bunch. Ate a lot of soup. Took a nap both Friday and Saturday. I'm so glad I went.

We Live at the Plate.

"It's just that there is sentiment here to use our bequest to challenge and invite others also to step up to the plate. "

This is a direct quote from someone who approached me this week with a thought toward helping to support my congregation's ministry, particularly to the homeless. I am really trying hard not to be offended. Particularly because up until this moment, this entity now trying to challenge others to "step up to the plate" has been nonexistent in the realm of social justice, or even in the community. They have been invited over and over again.

My congregation does a lot with very little. We work hard. We go over and above "the plate" and have been doing so for a number of years. The suggestion was made that my congregation do a fund drive to raise money that would then be matched by this entity. I feel like saying - why don't we count all of the numerous hours, the heartbreaking conversations, the thousands that we have already put in, and plan to continue to put in.....and consider that you are making an attempt to match that. You'll come no where close.

But, I won't say it like that. I might mention that we are already working on a couple of other ways to financially support our work, and they might see that as "matching." Grrrr.. Sometimes I really don't like being diplomatic.

Speak to Me That I May Speak

As I've started Christmas cards (only about 1/3rd through....they may be pre-Lent cards), as I've started to write the annual report for the congregation, I've recognized that I'm not so sure how to sum up this year without giving away too much.

It's been a hard year. Not stuff to write in Christmas cards. Not appropriate to share all with the congregation. Oh, they'll hear some, that pertains to the community life, but neither my own faith/personal struggles nor those things that have been the most difficult for me at work....particularly certain ways I've had to be involved in some individuals' lives.

Attached to my faith struggle has been a yearning to hear some direction for my life. Yearning to have something in some arena of my life so completely clear that I would know to head in that direction.

If you read past blog entries, you'll see it. And, it has been the reality of my life in 2008.

What leads me to anxious moments - to those times when I wake up from near-sleep to worry - are those times when I feel I am not enough. Nights are always harder than days. But, that period when I'm almost asleep is often when self-doubts start to wheedle their way to the front of my thoughts. My house isn't clean enough, I feel ugly (my current hair cut has been bothering me of late), I spend too much time at work, I failed a particular person in a particular way, my finances aren't in order....etc...etc.

The one that woke me up last night was the clean house - which is pretty ridiculous, because I believe my house could be company ready with an hour's notice.

I've been reading the "Space" trilogy by C.S. Lewis lately. I'm in the 2nd book - Perelandra in which "Ransom" the main character of the trilogy is sent to Perelandra - or Venus. It is a world at the beginning of its existence and there is one man, the King, who I have yet to meet in the book, and one woman, the Lady, who is "getting older" - or learning more and more. Maleldil (God) has forbidden residence on one piece of land (aka, forbidden eating fruit of one particular tree) and "the Enemy" in the form of someone that Ransom knows, has launch a logic-assault on the Lady. The Enemy is continuously in conversation with her, only stopping when she sleeps, to try to convince her that Maleldil really wants her to make her own choices away from him - but he can't tell her that because then it wouldn't be her own choice. Ransom is doing his best to stay awake and be present throughout this assault of logic - to try to combat the Enemy's arguments and convince the Lady to not go against what Maleldil has said.

Last night, after rationalizing myself out of my worry about my messy house, I picked up the book where I left off and read 2 pages before I came to something that brought me to tears:

"Inner silence is for our race a difficult achievement. There is a chattering part of the mind which continues, until it is corrected, to chatter on even in the holiest of places. Thus, while one part of Ransom remained, as it were, prostrated in a hush of fear and love that resembled a kind of death, something else inside him, wholly unaffected by reverence, continued to pour queries and objections into his brain. "It's all very well," said this voluble critic, "a presence of that sort! But the Enemy is really here, really saying and doing things. Where is Maleldil's representative?

"The answer which came back to him, quick as a fencer's or a tennis player's riposte, out of the silence and out of the darkness, almost took his breath away. It seemed Blasphemous. "Anyway, what can I do?"babbled the voluble self. "I've done all I can. I've talked till I'm sick of it. It's no good, I tell you." He tried to persuade himself that he, Ransom, could not possibly be Maleldil's representative as the Un-man was the representative of Hell. The suggestion was, he argued, itself diabolical - a temptation to fatuous pride, to megalomania. He was horrified when the darkness simply flung back this argument in his face, almost impatiently. And then - he wondered how it had escaped him till now - he was forced to perceive that his own coming to Perelandra was at least as much of a marvel as the Enemy's. That miracle on the right side, which he had demanded, had in fact occurred. He himself was the miracle."

These paragraphs and others in those 3 pages I read spoke to me. I was in tears - recognizing some of that communication for which I long.

It almost feels a little foolish to say that this was God - and yet, I believe it. I'm thankful for it.

Isn't It Done Yet?

Here I am, supposedly writing before I head into work for some pastoral care visits and to put things in order for tomorrow and the next few days.

My writing deadline of Dec 31st approaches quickly, and I'm not halfway done. The editor called me a couple days before Christmas to see how I was doing, and basically told me that Dec 31st was not a hard deadline. Which meant that I have allowed myself to not reach it.

I have a few days left, but many of those will be with family, not spent writing. I allowed this entire week to be about Christmas and some relaxing. Yesterday I both went to the gym and went Cross-Country Skiing. Which I would not have done if I was paying attention to this project.

This is one of those things that I'm really glad that I am doing, but am going to be so relieved when it is over.

Much to do

As I'm making lists and checking them twice - of things to accomplish, not what others have done - I recognize my persistent folly.

Good intentions don't always lead to action.

Baby showers, wedding showers, RSVPs go unanswered.

Projects begun, small tasks that with some organization would take little effort, basic life jobs, are incomplete.

Jumping from one project to another, never having the patience to fully finish. Never feeling really accomplished. Always giving up one thing to move on immediately to the next. It's not over until events are done and time has passed. I can always do more.

Today, Christmas Eve service and sermon. Christmas Day. Christmas Cards. Forgo the gym. Possibly no leisure reading. A clean bathroom? What's that? Only 2 more days!

Snow Adventure

I'm sure some people would question my decision making. I can't, however, say that I did.

I started my morning with a frivolous escapade into the almost-foot of snow that fell last night. I had an appointment at 10am. I called and they were open, so I went. It took me 1/2 an hour to get out of the 1/2 block of my dead-end street. But, that didn't deter me.

And, I made it to my facial only 5 minutes late. Yep. I went through the trouble of making my car plow through a foot of snow to go to a facial. Ridiculous. Even a little ridiculous that I had a facial appointment in the first place. And yet, I am glad I went.

I brought exercise clothes with me, with the thought that I would stop off at my gym on the way back, but I also needed to drop by the post office. So, I went to the PO after the facial and decided to attempt to just go back home (shoveling to both get out and then back into my parking spot would be enough exercise I reasoned). However, my streets still were not plowed. So, after almost getting stuck at the intersection closest to my house, I decided to not to try to wade into my block again and went to the gym.

Finally, I decided to attempt getting back onto my block and this time it only took me about 15 minutes to get into my spot.

I rounded out my day with a nice bath and a baked sweet potato for lunch.

I love the snow. I love adventures in the snow. I love driving in the snow. It might not always be the smartest move to make, but this morning was perfect.

Fresh Air

Following this past weekend with my parents I feel like I let out a deep breath - a breath that I've been holding for a long time. I'm more grounded, happier, feel less frantic.

What was it? Could it have been the many projects they worked on in my house: putting plastic on my windows, fixing the thing that holds my shower head, fixing my kitchen faucet, replacing the missing screw that hold the smoke detector up....other than the window, nothing very major.

Could it have been my mom got to preparing meals and doing dishes before I could? I tried to be on top of things, but she just naturally jumped in. I felt really taken care of.

Was it the theological discussion with my dad? (We tried to liken the red bows we put on Christmas trees to creation - are the bows the purpose? or merely one part of a bigger purpose?). Was it that he helped me explore some texts that I'm needing to study?

Could it have been our own make-shift "day of listening" that NPR was promoting. We didn't record anything, but we engaged in some of the story telling and listening to one another.

I worked each day they were here, but we still had good time together. I don't have a whole lot else to write about....but I am feeling good - involved, busy - but not frantic. Like I've had a breath of fresh air.

Sorting it out

Yesterday and today have been/will be times when I've had to be grounded and non-anxious. I think I succeeded in that yesterday - and in 2 of the three times it was necessary, the event turned out like I would hope it would.

My point to this is to remind myself, that even when I do everything to my best ability, even when I enter into each situation with a good balance of an open spirit and preparation for my part of the situation, even when the intent is there....when working with people there is often an unknown - and there is a high degree of out-of-my-control-ness. When the raw materials are human beings (sounds so cold and calculating), the output is so much more complicated.

I struggle with what to name, what to claim, what to not take responsibility for, and what to discard. What can I learn out of each of those situations? Part of this comes out of my urge to fix the problems - to respond and work towards healthiness.

My task today (in addition to writing a wedding sermon, finishing a grant report and visiting someone in the hospital) is to find this balance - both in public and in private.

Off Balance

I've felt unbalanced lately. Not in the way that might require air quotes....although, maybe a little bit there too.

When I come home, I crash. But, I don't feel like I can truly rest because there is so much to do. And so I don't rest well.

I've been waking up in the middle of the night a lot. I'm worrying. About my work. About the world. About others. About my health (nothing for others to get worked up about...just the usual - exercise, what's going on with my eczema, etc.). About the future...mine and the world's. About how. much. I. have. to. get. done.

Some of these things I can control. Some I cannot. The thing about the control piece? It takes time. It takes time to get my work done. It takes time to do the dishes and pay the bills and read my book club book. It takes time to exercise and talk to people on the phone. And, it doesn't feel like I have time.

Except, I would have a little more time if I didn't come home so exhausted.

I know these aren't fun posts to read. So, thank you if you did. I have known for some time that sometimes I just need to know that someone else might hear my concerns - not to solve them, but to know where I am. At the very least, it's therapeutic for me.

And now, I'm going to go be quiet for a little while and read and then go to sleep. That will help my balance.

I CAN NOT WAIT FOR TONIGHT'S RESULTS!

The title of this post is all I really need to say. I've got all this nervous energy surrounding today and this election. So, I'm going to go vote, then go volunteer and then try to concentrate on my work (add to the nervous energy, it's the last day of work before a week of vacation.....like I'll get anything done anyway...)