Wednesday Prayers: In The Groove

Today was my first day back at the hospital (my summer CPE is over, but I'm doing field education there during the school year).  As I walked through the parking garage to my car, I realized that I'd been smiling for several hours.

I do, of course, hesitate to put that in print, because I'm squirrelly.  I'm feeling pretty scared to trust joy and hope.  I'd love your prayers for that, if you're so inclined.

Did you feel like you belonged where you were today, or are you longing to have that feeling?  Let me know,  and I'll hold you in prayer.

Weekend Flowers

Thursday at Longwood

Wednesday Prayers: Middling

Fall classes of my middler year start tomorrow, and I'm praying for a peaceful, joyful year. I began things well by having a relaxed dinner with an old, cozy friend. Start as you mean to carry on!

Do you have a beginning you'd like me to hold in prayer? A new coworker? A new situation? A new question in your heart?

Weekend Flowers

Eulogy for a Tire

I got a flat tire yesterday.  I had been planning to see a handful of wonderful people in DC but ended up staying home, and when I went to pick up Dave from the train station... whumba, whumba, whumba.  Not a good sound.  Also not an ignorable sound.

Flat tire.  I texted Dave.  His train was due in about 15 minutes, and I was only 4 blocks or so from the train station.  I thought about waiting for him to get to me, but couldn't see the point of twiddling my thumbs for that long.  I lugged the donut out of the trunk, and started to hop on the wrench (my bolts are ridiculously hard to loosen).  All of thirty seconds later, an older man in a camouflaged shirt and duct-taped boots came over, introduced himself as Larry*, and made clear that he wasn't going to let someone's daughter struggle.

Look:  I know how to change a tire.  The first time I got one, I made a college friend keep me company and talk me through it.  My mama raised me to be able to do what needs to be done.  (Someday I'll tell you about the time I called Dave at work and said, "Remember the piece of furniture I didn't like?  And you know our hand saw?")  Larry clearly believed I didn't know how to do it, and that he was rescuing me.  He was kind, he was protective.  (He was talkative.)  I was OK with letting him be my hero.  And he really was-- because he wanted to be.  The fact that I could have done it myself doesn't change that.

I'm still thinking about that tire today, not just because I'm grateful for Larry, but also because I'm so conscious of how lucky I am that this flat tire isn't an emergency.  My first couple of years out of college, I was very, very poor, and the expense of this flat would have caused a lot of tears.  Today, it's just another errand.  Every time a minor hassle comes up (or even a bigger one, like last fall's flooding), I'm so grateful to be able to take it in stride.  I'm aware of how many people this would be a significant hardship for, and I remember when that was true for me.  I know it could always be that way again.  I'm grateful that today, in this moment, something that could be hard, is easy.

*Name changed to protect the good-hearted.

Wednesday Prayers: Rapid-Fire Transitions

Two weeks after the spring semester ended, I began Clinical Pastoral Education.  A week after CPE wrapped up, I started Summer Greek (the benign title of a two-week course that covers a semester's worth of material).   I have this week off, and I'll start the fall semester next week.  Since I did swing shifts throughout CPE, I haven't had a routine in a very long time.  One of the things I'm most looking forward to about starting the school year is having a consistent schedule.  I'm adaptable-- but I'm tired.

I'm looking forward to a chore schedule, a running schedule, time with loved ones, and time to myself.  I really skimped on all of those things over the summer.  (Except the running.  The weeks I didn't run were not stellar weeks for pastoral care on my part.)

Does a schedule bring relief for you, or does it feel like a burden?  Are you feeling burned-out by monotony, or are you longing for consistency?

God, thank you for your presence when 

life feels completely upside-down.

Sustain us in times of both chaos and of restlessness, 

and show us where to find your joy and peace

regardless of our circumstances.  

Weekend Flowers

Didn't make it to market. Picked by Dave on a run.

Weekend Flowers

Weekend Flowers

Caution Sign

Which I first typo-ed as "caution sigh," possibly a more accurate title.

I know I'm overdue for a little R&R when a darling staffer compliments my outfit, and rather than believing it, all I can think of is, "wow, it was really sweet of one of the cool kids to try to be nice to me."

I need a break, y'all.  When my 12-year-old self is speaking up, it's time to regroup.

Optimism

Just a quick note to tell you that my CPE colleagues make me feel good about the future of the church.  I grumble a lot that Jimmy Buffett was right-- religion IS in the hands of some crazy-ass people.  Still, this bunch gives me hope.  It's fun and exciting and energizing to work with them.

Also-- I love being in the Emergency Department.  No kidding, love it.  Also on the other floors.  And in the elevators.

This summer is awesome.  The schedule stinks, but I can't remember the last time I was so relaxed, satisfied, excited.  As much as I love classes, it's going to be hard to go back to school.  EXCEPT, that I get to do field ed at the hospital, AND part of that will be research, which I am ALSO going to love.

Happy little clam over here.

Ease Up

In an afternoon CPE session, one of our supervisors did a class on how often shame comes up when we as chaplains talk with patients.  She talked to us about some themes that might indicate shame was part of the conversation.  Since I'd heard many of those things in my visits with patients, I asked for further reading.  She lent me three books by Alice Miller: The Body Never Lies, The Drama of the Gifted Child, and For Your Own Good.  "These might be hard for you, I think it may be painful material," she said.

"No problem.  I can handle hard.  I like to learn."

I can handle hard, but after getting halfway through the second book, it occurred to me that there's a fine line between hard and torturing oneself.  I'm barreling head-first into heavy stuff in CPE supervision (because it matters, because it's important, because I'm terrified of the kind of damage we can do if we don't deal with our stuff).  I'm about to change spiritual directors.  Dave's out of town for chunks of time.  I haven't seen most of my friends in... no, let's not count.  I can do hard things, but let's not do them all at once.  

I'm going to go find one of Dave's old Calvin and Hobbes collections, and put Alice Miller on a to-read list for later.  If you're wrestling with your own heavy stuff, I'll scootch over on the couch, and let you leaf through the Peanuts books.

A Wee Update

• I love being at the hospital,
• but swing shifts are kicking my butt.
• I badly, badly miss friend time,
• and I can't wait to have an afternoon with a full teapot and a box of stationery.
• 12 shifts left.
• There's a lot of laughter among chaplains-- I'm happy about that.
• I've got some very, very funny stories now.  None of which I'm going to tell on the internet.
• I'm a little sad that my favorite season has whooshed by while I've been indoors.

Isn't that a wimpy little update?  What's going on in your summer?

Weekly Flowers from Market

70 x 7

I had a conversation with a fellow intern recently, and it had me thinking about debts and forgiveness.

If a bank forgives my loan, they don't (as part of the deal) give me more money. They just agree not to make me pay. I've somehow learned a definition of forgiveness that involves the forgiver continuing to give. When I think in terms of monetary debts, that makes no sense. Who would say, "You couldn't repay me, so please take another loan"? If I work to improve my credit score, they'll lend again-- but if I continue in a way that would leave them empty-handed, no wise bank would sign another note for me. Even the famous prodigal son gets his father's love-- but he doesn't get a second inheritance.

God's grace is deep, and we're called to mirror that grace, but I don't think I believe it requires us to continually offer to be shortchanged.

CPE Odds and Ends

Not surprisingly, I'm neither rested nor coherent enough for a full post. (I have one brewing, though, so stay tuned.)  A few bullets in the meantime:

• I keep noticing how unsurprising tragedy is to me.  Horrifying and heartbreaking, yes.  Surprising, no.  This is not something I tell patients or their families.  It's also something I feel rather alone in.
• I AM surprised by how many things from which people recover. 
• I could really use some friend time, but I'm tired and afraid that I'm using all my verbal-filter energy at work.  *sigh*
• As someone who's always planning the next thing, I've been surprised and satisfied by how that's not at all the case when I'm with a patient.  I'm not sure why this is where I'm able to focus, but it's been wonderful.
• I feel so, so strongly that literature is a precious springboard to ministry.  I'm reading Dickens' Hard Times in my spare time.  It's not his best, but it's worthwhile.
• Some people's lives seem a lot simpler to me.  Not easy, mind you, but simpler.  I'm conscious of feeling more on the fringes lately.

That's all for now.  

First Night: Practically Speaking

Tonight is my first shift alone, my first overnight at the hospital.  Scary.  Here's the idea that I'm finding some reassurance in:

Anyone who comes into the hospital tonight will be coming whether or not I'm there.  Accidents will happen, diseases will progress, loved ones will have to wait anxiously.  So I might as well be there to offer some support.

There's nothing as soothing to me as the pragmatic.

Goldfish

My husband won a goldfish at a fair a number of years ago, and being the sweet nurturing soul that he is, took fantastic care of it.  I learned a lot about pet fish in the time that Joe the Fish Guy was with us, and one of the things I discovered is that goldfish grow much bigger when they live in bigger tanks.

I've been thinking about that at the hospital.  Our supervisors are confident that my fellow students and I will be OK, and on Wednesday they'll be setting us (relatively) free.  That space to grow will let each of us fill out in a way that constant close supervision and micromanagement wouldn't.  (We will ABSOLUTELY still be instructed and supervised.  There's no reason to alert the authorities, don't worry.)  The department has been clear about wanting people to become more confident, and to have a greater sense of their own competence.  This feels a) remarkably good and b) somehow unusual in ministry.

A great lady once taught me that humility isn't about believing that I'm less than everyone else, but about believing that everyone is equally valuable.  My experience of the church has been that ministers often take on the less-than definition of humility, and that it too often degenerates into a Uriah Heap falseness.  "Oh, no, I'm too 'umble"... to really embrace and celebrate my call, to proclaim my gifts, to speak my truths firmly.  I wonder if part of clergy burnout is the tiny tank that we keep ministers in (or ourselves in).  Of course we need safeguards, and of course I don't want to give egomaniacs free reign.  But for ordinary, good ministers: joy and wholeness cannot grow in a tiny tank.

CPE Day 4

We've had three days of orientation, and today we'll start shadowing someone.  We also got our department assignments for the summer today.  No kidding:  when I read mine, I cried.

And then I thought and prayed about it a little, and realized it has the potential to be a very good assignment.

I think God said, "How can I show you that you can do more if I don't give you a chance to try?"

Once again, I want to share with everyone that God is super annoying.


Alleluia.

CPE: Day 1

There are places were I feel just a little more alive and alert, joyful in a strange, calm way: orientation today was like that. We'll see if the feeling is still there at the end of the summer.

And I've got a new stack of things to grab on my way out the door.

CPE Starts Tomorrow

Lord, have mercy.

Braaaaaiiiiiiiins

A couple of years ago, a friend who coached high school track told me about a girl who stopped being able to high jump.  Despite having performed beautifully the previous year, the girl became convinced that she couldn't, and completely psyched herself out.

I have thought of that girl several times over the last couple of months.  I did reasonably well academically in the fall, and it messed with my mind this semester. Perfectionism is eating my brain, and chasing me through my days.  Zombie Perfectionism.  It's horrible.  It's not even inflated expectations-- high expectations are good, they demonstrate belief in one's capacity.  The zombies don't say, "you must get an A!"  Perfectionism for me is nasty, hissing, low expectations.  "That was a fluke.  You can't possibly do well again.  Everyone's going to see that you're not good enough."    

My closest friends are freakishly, alarmingly, shockingly smart.  Really.  And I love that about them, I love learning from them.  I'm bright enough, but my IQ (as West Wing's Josh once claimed) doesn't break the bank. There's a part of me that looked at going back to school as a chance to play in the big leagues, to prove that I belong around those really smart people.  That's when the Perfectionism Zombies took over.  They ate my love of learning (do you know how much I love new ideas and new books and beautiful words?), they devoured my self-esteem, and they ripped the holy crap out of my reliance on God.

I have one more week of class, 3 more assignments to finish.  I've done fine, but not great.  Strangely, I've also done less.  Not less work (although maybe fewer total pages have been written), but less balanced-life-stuff.  Less joy, less dusting and ironing, less prayer.  I'm starting to notice that when I do laundry, pay attention to loved ones, sew a little, the perfectionism abates.  When I round out my life, my worth doesn't hinge on how well I'm doing that one thing.

So here I am, learning for the bazillionth time to be a whole person, and to rest with God instead of darting off on my own.  It's damn hard to turn things over to God when I'm spending all that energy doing it MYSELF.  It's so, so, so hard to trust that I'm good enough without being perfect.  But I think I have to pick between trying to be perfect at something, or letting God make me whole.  I'd rather be whole.

For the moment.

Wednesday Prayers: Admin

Yet again, I'm spending Administrative Assistants Day rejoicing over all the really gifted people in that vocation.

Size

Sometimes, when I want to get better perspective, I find it helpful to think of the word in its spacial sense.  How big is this thing, really?  How close is it?  Am I about to get run over by a freight train or a hamster?

I'm starting to notice that there are a lot of inflatable freight trains in life.  Things that look massive, but just because they've been filled with a bunch of hot air (some of it mine, some of it other people's).    

It's become commonplace for people to wear their busy-ness, overwhelmed-ness, and struggles as a badge of honor.  If we're overwhelmed, it's because we're indispensable for so many people.  What we're doing is very, very important.  Bah.  Centuries of people have done important things with equanimity.  Centuries of blusterers have passed into dust and anonymity.

My word of blessing today:  You are precious, but you are not important.  God is.  May you rejoice in those relative sizes.      

It's Not Wednesday

but, like Mindy, I've got a Clown situation, and I could use prayers for protection.

It's scary out there, sometimes.

Wednesday Prayers: In Memorium

I've written a lot of condolence letters lately, two just this week for women whose mothers have died. My prayers are with all who grieve the death of a loved one, and this week they are especially with V and B.

Are there prayers you'd like me to add to these?

That Which Restoreth My Soul

This week, Holy Week, is spring break at my seminary.  I'm sure that all the second and third year students doing field ed are especially glad not to juggle classes and multiple services, but I'm grateful for the break, too.  I'm trying to chip away at the Things I'll Do When There's Nothing Due list, and I haven't gotten very far.   Instead, I'm quilting, and watching Inside the Actor's Studio.

It's been the right thing to do.  I love my classes (no, really-- reading and writing are a curiously good time to me), but lately I've been asking, "why am I here?"  The Actor's Studio reminds me-- I'm here for the stories, and for the honesty.  There is almost nothing in the world that I love more than hearing about what really matters to people.  We as seminarians don't seem great with that honesty piece.  There are frequent shows that disguise truth more than reveal it.  Thank God for actors.  I've been reading, too-- and thanking God for the honesty of fiction, and of poetry.

And, because I've always wanted to play, here are my interview answers:

1. Enchanted
2. Innovative
3. Liberty
4. Manipulation
5. A snoring cat
6. Crocodile tears
7. Bugger.  
8. Lounge singer
9. Data entry
10. Hi, honey.  I'm so pleased with you.

Would you like to share yours?

John Donne

Today is the feast day of John Donne, seventeenth century poet and clergyman.  In honor of him, and in observance of the season, I give you his Crucifying:

Crucifying


By miracles exceeding power of man, 
Hee faith in some, envie in some begat,
For what weake spirits admire, ambitious, hate;
In both affections many to him ran,
But Oh! the worst are most, they will and can,
Alas, and do, unto immaculate,
Whose creature Fate is, now prescribe a Fate,
Measuring selfe-lifes infinity to'a span,
Nay to an inch. Loe, where condemned hee
Beares his owne crosse, with paine, yet by and by
When it beares him, he must bear more and die.
Now thou are lifted up, draw mee to thee,
And at thy death giving such liberall dole,
Moyst, with one drop of thy blood, my dry soule.

-John Donne

Wednesday Prayers: Ugh

Seminary is mildly depressing some weeks.  There's good stuff, but then there's ugh. Pray for that however you feel led.

How about in your world?  Anything I can be praying for?

Wednesday Prayers: Running Buddies

Yesterday, I ran with a classmate who is in far, far better shape than I am. It was the fastest I'd run in a year. The quick strides felt great, and I shocked myself by keeping up.

Tomorrow, I'm heading to the track with another classmate, one who's just starting to run. We switch between walking and running, and our pace is mostly dictated by our conversation.

Maybe it's my evangelical background talking, but it feels like that's exactly what we should be doing in communities of faith. Both women encourage me, and I am able to support each of them. We're making each other stronger, but not running the weaker partner too hard.

Where does this happen in your life? Where COULD it happen? That's what I'm praying about this week.

Lutheran Question: Salvation

For those in the know: is there room in Lutheran (ELCA) doctrine for salvation theologies OTHER than substitutionary atonement?

Sisterhood

In the spirit of International Women's Day, I've got sisterhood on the brain.  Here's a little Dar Williams on the subject while I think about all the women I've admired.




So many to be grateful for:
all-the-sarahs amy anne beth caroline charlotte cori danielle debbie diane emily hannah heidi jennifer julia julie karen kate kristy lane laura lillian lynn margaret meghan mindy nancy robin stephanie vicki .... and on and on.  

Wednesday Prayers: Love and Disagreement

I may be in the minority on this, but my general feeling is that if you and I can't openly and respectfully disagree with each other, I'm not going to feel like I have a close relationship with you.  I didn't always realize this about myself.  In college, I was part of a lovely group of people, but none of them shared my style of addressing things.  Years later, one of them told me that I was the only person anyone else in the group had any conflict with.  When she told me that, I heard it as, "you're the problem; the rest of us can get along."  That may have been true, but I think it's also true that we had very different needs/values/priorities in terms of how relationships function.

There are people I don't respect enough to argue with-- respect and disagreement are very closely tied to me.   (Those of you who'd like to send condolences to my husband, email me for the address.)  When I'm not ever allowed to disagree with someone, I feel hugely disrespected.  (Please insert the obvious caveat about there being appropriate times and places for both speaking and letting things lie.)

Which brings us to God.

Look:  in theory, I think we're allowed to argue with God.  The psalms, various lamentations, even Jesus, all suggest that we can protest.  My head believes it, but the rest of me won't follow.  I've been noticing lately that I'm ticked off, and I'm not bothering to argue with God about it.

You know what I'm saying?

"Fine."    

For those who need a translation, "fine" is one of the least polite words in my lexicon.  It's a succinct reduction of, "you're an idiot" and "get away from me."  (I probably shouldn't tell you that-- it's bound to come back and bite me.)

I've only just put together that:
1) I hugely respect and cherish those friends I can disagree with.
   and
2) I don't feel free to disagree with God.
   so
3) I've got a major obstacle to being close to God right now.
   
And look:  before you send me pithy statements about how God can take our anger, and you've disagreed with God and flowers bloomed and birds sang-- I get it.  I get it, brain-wise.  I'm saying, growth is hard, and God and I need to dig out from underneath some tough stuff here, so let's not talk about it like it's easy.

Anyway, that's my prayer this week: fine.   And my other prayer is for different prayers to come eventually.

Wednesday Prayers: Expensive

The first week of first semester, we lost our apartment in a flood.  Yesterday (the second week of this semester), Dave (WHO IS FINE, I want you to know, just sore), was the last car to join a 5-car pile-up, and his tiny beloved car was totaled.

If this keeps up, seminary is going to wind up being way more expensive than we bargained for.

Seriously, though-- everyone's OK, but the universe has been pretty much kicking our asses this year, and we'd like some peace.  So, if God can offer either a reprieve, or some peace in the midst of it, that's what we're praying for this week.

How about you?  Getting walloped, or enjoying a tranquil season?  Let me know, and I'll keep you in my prayers, too.

PS-- There's some unbloggable stuff.  Totally unrelated.  But I'm looking for wisdom and guidance and comfort in an area that simply doesn't have any happy, easy answers.  Prayers there would be hugely welcome.

Longing vs. Call

I took a week-long seminar on the ministry of chaplaincy last week, and Friday's presentation was on military chaplaincy.  I'll be honest with you-- I kinda figured it would be an army chaplain, and that wouldn't matter very much to me.  (Yes, that's an obnoxious way of thinking about it.  Telling it like it is, folks.)  Instead, the chaplain was a Marine.

Not only did it knock the wind out of me, it pretty much sent me flying face-first into the gravel.  

Almost 48 hours later, I'm still getting my bearings back.  Military homesickness isn't geographical.  This seems almost impossible to explain to civilians, to non-brats.  There's a culture that's unique, and that disappears once a brat moves out of the house.  I very intentionally chose not to (ever, ever) date a military man (I married a Quaker, for crying out loud), and I sure as heck knew I wasn't looking for a commission.  I made a choice not to be part of that culture in adulthood.  But that means that my heritage has disappeared into a fog, and I really can't go home again.  Other people find that their hometowns change, but I don't have security clearance to get to my homeculture.  My heart's a little broken this weekend.  There are funny things like posture and style of speech and attitude that are specifically Marine things, and I haven't seen any of them in a very, very long time.   

But this is what I want to pay attention to:  sometimes there are longings and homesicknesses that are not the same as call.  Yearning isn't always a nudge from God.  Sometimes, it's just a memo that something's missing from your life.  There are values (like Semper Gumby--Always Flexible) that I can reincorporate.  There are leadership skills and confidence and honor that I can return to.  I can take this time to pay attention to the very full legacy that I have been given as a Marine brat.  

Wednesday Prayers: Writers Block

I've got an email backlog that's embarrassing. Worse than the embarrassment is the knowledge that my feeble correspondence isn't an adequate way to care for people dear to me. I'm genuinely ashamed.

I've got blog posts floating in pieces in my head-- hawks and Uriah Heap and preparation and and and et cetera. They're not so much floating, as zipping by like the snitch in Quidditch. I'm a little concerned that if I try to grab one, it'll take my hand off.  Plus, to be honest with you, some of my favorite people in what was once a beloved blogging community aren't writing anymore, and I'm not sure I see a point in writing without that precious conversation.

So, prayers for speech, please, and for liberated words.

How about you? Do you need a loosened tongue or a restrained one this week? Either way, how can I pray for you?

7 of the Day

You know how I've talked about the Enneagram a few times?  Well, I signed up for the "Enneathought of the Day" a month or two ago.  Augh.  It's great.. and terrible.  As Dave says (quoting Scrubs), "Get out of my head, devilwoman!" That pretty much sums it up for me, too-- they're reliably spot-on.  Some days, I love the tips for growth or word of encouragement.  Other days, I groan and think, "But life is easier when I do what I've always done."  Except, it's not really easier.  It's just more familiar.

Anyway, if the Enneagram is something you're interested in, head on over and sign up for the Enneathought.  They're free, and I've found them to be useful.  (They also make darn good journal prompts, if you need a way to get off the hamster wheel of your own nuttiness.)

Wednesday(ish) Prayers: Ouch

You know those days were someone has just walloped a tender part of your soul, maybe without having any idea at all they were doing it?  Part of you wants to be mature, and the other part wants to pop the heads off all their Barbies?  Dave is having a day like that, so if you could hold him in the light, I'd be awfully grateful.

How about you?  Are you feeling smacked around?  Or maybe there's a lingering grungy feeling telling you that maybe you smacked someone else around?  Either way, let me know, and I'll be glad to hold you in prayer, too.

Like A Dove

In yesterday's gospel reading, and this morning's pray-as-you-go meditation, I listened to the story of the baptism of Jesus, as told in Mark's gospel.  There's a lot in the story, but it's a very familiar one for most of us (I even preached on it a number of years ago).  We've got John not being worthy to loosen a sandal,  and Jesus being named God's beloved son.  It was a minor detail that grabbed my attention this time, though.  The Holy Spirit descended on Jesus like a dove.


Why like a dove?  And what does that even mean?  If you were on the riverbanks, what would have happened to make you report, "Wow, the Holy Spirit just came upon that guy like a dove!"?  What would you have seen?  It's a serious question, because it's a weird description.  Was there an actual dove that people took to be representative of the divine?  Or is it totally metaphor-- and if so, how do we understand the metaphor?

Doves are a symbol of peace to many of us, but if a dove landed on me, I'd be pretty startled.  Was the Holy Spirit startling?  Also, whenever I'm granted close proximity to a small creature, particularly a wild one, I'm conscious of needing to be very gentle, not to hurt or frighten it.  Is the Holy Spirit something we need to treat delicately?  

I popped over and checked out Old Testament references to doves.  We've got Noah's dove with the olive branch, some sacrifice instructions, and a good bit about a lover's eyes in Song of Songs.  Isaiah talks a little about the moaning of doves, and Hosea thinks the dove hasn't got any sense.  We could use those things to flesh out (feather out?) the image, or not.

Have you given any thought to the Holy Spirit descending like a dove?

Wednesday Prayers: Finishing Up

I have a confession:  I am complete rubbish at finishing what I start.  I mean, I do it (sometimes), but I hate it.  Kicking and screaming hate it. When you finish a project, there's no more potential for it to be brilliant.  It just is what it is.  Furthermore, everyone can see what it is, and determine your worth accordingly.

I have two major projects left to do, and three minor ones.  And yet I've bought my books for next semester, because isn't it nice to think about what's going to happen next?  (By the way-- this is very 7-y.  )


So, my prayers this week are about finishing what I've begun.  (Or, in some cases, beginning what I need to finish.)  For patience and focus and a spirit of calm, rather than a spirit of fear.  For some of that enjoyment of work that I was talking about last week.

How about you?  Do you need prayer to be able to finish, or are you someone who needs prayer because you're too focused on work?  Let me know, and I'll add you to my list.

Wednesday Prayers: For Work

It's the week before the last week of classes, and I'm enjoying my work.  There's a little notepad with due dates on my desk, and as I cross things off my list, I'm relishing the writing and thinking.  Thanks be to God for that.  Really.  I've had a lot of jobs where I was a ridiculous fit (and where I felt I was accomplishing nothing at all), and I love being a student.  This is joyful work, and it feels great to exercise these muscles.  Lift up a little gratitude with me, if you'd like to.
(Though I will say:  I miss the days when finals were due AFTER the last classes, and not during.)


How's your job?  Are you finding any satisfaction in it?  Shall I hold your work in prayer?  Let me know.

Walking home.

The walk to and from school (across the few blocks that constitute downtown) can be peculiar.

Today, I saw a tree in full bloom. All I could think of was Thomas Gray's Elegy in a Churchyard-- "full many a flower is born to blush unseen, and waste its sweetness on the desert air."

Or, in this case, its sweetness shall be wasted in the wintry air. (Have I mentioned how often poetry's come to mind lately? A good indication that even though there are frustrations, I'm pretty happy.)

Also, a man tried to sell a dress to me. Walked right out of his shop onto the sidewalk to give me his pitch as I walked by. Funny.

And, finally, CHAI-NOG. I really love winter beverages.

That's it. Just stopping by.

xoxo.

Wednesday Prayers: The Origin of Words

Because I can be a slow learner, I was in my early 30s when I finally realized that if someone is saying unkind things about others to me, they are almost definitely saying unkind things about me to others.  (Note:  I am 31 now.  Yes, the obvious is a recent revelation for me.)


I also realized that when I say harsh things about people, it's usually because I don't have the ovaries to express my needs and wants directly.  And that's my problem, not someone else's.  Hurtful words aren't the responsibility of the person they land on, they belong to their place of origin.  If I'm being a snot, it's because my heart is not aligned with God's.

I've been thinking a lot lately about the commandment to love my neighbor as myself.  Specifically, I've been thinking that THERE IS NO COMMANDMENT TO BE LOVABLE.   If I'm not loving you, that's my problem, not yours.  Actually, that's my sin, not your deficiency.

Now, you know I don't think that means I have to be everyone's friend.  It might not even mean I have to be in relationship with them.  But I have to respect that they are deeply valuable, that God is present in them, and that within them is infinitely more than I can know or imagine.

For the times when I find it hard to love, 

For the days when I get tired of listening, 

Lord, have mercy.

For my short temper and my self-centeredness, 

Christ, have mercy.

For my lost authenticity and courage, 

Lord, have mercy.

And God?  Please help others to love me, too.

Wednesday Prayers: Autumn Holiday Edition

Whether you're celebrating, or recognizing that this simply isn't a season of celebration in your life this year, may God continue to be with you this week.

Enneagram Exercise: Day 1

Well, I learned one thing on the first day of this exercise:  my brain is perfectly capable of outfoxing me.

"I have to finish one project at a time?  Fine.  Guess what, sweetcheeks?  I don't have to finish what I don't start."

Oh.  Also there was  the mid-afternoon meltdown.

(Which occurred because, despite having a degree in English Lit, I am not capable of writing a 5 page paper.  Any evidence to the contrary has been a complete fluke.  Monkeys at typewriters, hammering out Hamlet.  Ergo, I cannot sit down and write the whole paper, because if I sit down with that intention I will be trapped in the Chair of Failure forever.  No paper will be forthcoming.  Only the horrendous taunting of a blank screen.)

Enneagram Workshop and a Week-Long Exercise

I first heard about the Enneagram several years ago, and pretty thoroughly brushed it off.  It's a personality type tool, and because I'd been mistyped, none of the information seemed all that insightful.  About a year ago, Shauna Niequist mentioned how much she loves the Enneagram, and I gave it another shot.  This time, I took the survey and reviewed the types for myself, carefully evaluating each one.  WHOA!  SEVEN! Well, NOW it's helpful!

Unlike the Myers-Briggs, the Enneagram offers insight not just on what you're like, but how you're most likely to make unhealthy choices (and how to make healthier ones).  As I read about each type's unique motivations, I started to understand that I am not really the baseline for normal.  (Yeah, that came to me a little late.)  When other people made choices that didn't make sense to me, I finally began to think, "they must have different needs from mine" instead of "what an idiot!"

This weekend, I went to a workshop taught by Michael Naylor on the wisdom of the Enneagram.  For each of the types, Michael recommended a week-long exercise of abstinence from that Thing We Do that keeps us from spiritual growth.  Of course, that Thing We Do is also the thing that helps us dodge the relentless Inner Critic.  (Nobody said it was going to be a fun week.)  In fact, it's pretty reasonable to talk about some type-specific habits as addictions of personality.  For some it might be helping too much, for others it might be isolating themselves.

For still others, it might be refusing to commit when there are so many possibilities and options out there.

Ahem.

When Michael got to Sevens, the assignment was, "For one week, FINISH one project at a time before moving on to the next one."

Wait-- what?  No, you don't understand-- if I did that, I couldn't do lots of different things!

Ahem.

I'm trying it this week.  If I perish, you'll know why.  I will have clawed my way out of my own skin to avoid being trapped.  I'm going to try to let you know how it goes.

Wednesday Prayers: New and Old

I'm much slower to consider people "friends" than I used to be. New folks get parked in "acquaintance" or "buddy" status for quite a while. Friendship is a Big Flipping Deal to me. I don't take that type of intimacy lightly. Heck-- I've never rushed into ANY kind of intimacy. Good friends are, as a wise woman observed to me this evening, the ones who make us feel known. It's hard to get more personal than that with our clothes on (and truthfully, sometimes we're not that personal with them off).

I believe I'm called to love everyone, but that doesn't mean I'm called to be everyone's friend. There are obligations to friendship (many of which I shirk to an embarrassing extent) that we don't owe everyone, though we do owe respect and kindness.

It's nice to notice that this week holds both old friends and people I think are becoming new ones.

I'm praying with gratitude for both old and new friends-- but I'm also holding in prayer people I'm committed to loving without being friends. I'll be asking God to guide my judgment and actions in all kinds of relationships. (As always, I'd be grateful for your prayers in that, too.)

Are there people on your mind as you pray this week? Would you like me to pray with you?

Cat Gork

Me: I love that we've been buying flowers at the Farmers' Market every week, but your cat keeps eating them and throwing up.
Dave: Once!
Me: No, it happens every week!
Dave: Right-- only once with each bouquet.

*sigh*

Cranky Sunday Night

Measured hall closet.
Bought shelf.
Assembled shelf.
Threw away box.
Realized I should have included the floor trim in the closet measurements.
Called Target: Can I return assembled furniture?
I can.
Unfortunately, I can't fit it in my car.

Wednesday Prayers: Autumn Walks

I took two beautiful walks today, one alone, and one later with Dave. The lovely neighborhoods and the ginkgo in the streetlight are enough prayer for now.

Wednesday Prayers: Right Here

Today (tonight, really), I'm praying for presence, for the ability to be still.  There are enough different things going on at the moment that I keep noticing my mind scurrying away from the task at hand.  I'm missing the depth that comes from close attention.  I'm praying for the peace and trust to stay put, exactly where I am, at any given moment.

What are you praying for? 

I Love My Pepys.

“In appearance, at least, he being on all occasions glad to be at friendship with me, though we hate one another, and know it on both sides.” -Samuel Pepys

I heart Samuel Pepys (and, as he had trouble turning away from women, I think he might have liked me, too).  I laughed when I read this-- almost 400 years later, humanity is still ridiculous.  I can certainly think of times where there were civil, even friendly, interactions between people who detested each other.  While we are indeed called to love our neighbor, there's some consolation in hypocrisy being a longstanding tradition.  


And Lord knows, Pepys makes me laugh.  Can't we study him instead of Augustine?

Wednesday Prayers: Opportunity

You know that old saw about opportunity only knocking once?  Hogwash.  Or at least, hogwash when it's a character-building opportunity.  In that case, opportunity just seems to keep pounding at my door.

Around certain people, my sturdy Self dissolves into so many tiny nonpareils, and scatters across the kitchen floor.  I, in my infinite foolishness, keep thinking that maybe I can just avoid those people.

Opportunity keeps knocking.

Eleanor Roosevelt was right that no one can make us feel small without our permission.  What she didn't say was that we might have to practice taking up our full space.  We might have to remember to breathe, and remember that what God has put within us is very solid, and cannot be eroded by others.

Opportunity remains.  It hurts like the dickens, but I like what I see on the other side.  And I'm convinced that God is with me between here and there. 

For the presence of mind to stay close to God, 

For the ability to respect God's creation in us, 

and for learning to love our neighbor and ourselves at all times;

                                                          Lord, hear our prayer.

Wednesday Prayers: Teenagers

I've run into a lot of people this month who really love teenagers, and it's been delightful:

• An English teacher who's been doing it long enough that he could be really jaded, but instead works hard to give his students exciting opportunities. 
• A recent college graduate who champions the role of teenagers in church (RIGHT NOW, not when these teenagers are middle-aged).
• A middle-aged woman who knows and loves the teens in her church as the extraordinary people they are, and who encourages others to get to know them.

I think you've heard me say before that the adults in my life when I was in high school and college made a tremendous difference.  They might not have literally saved my life (though I wouldn't put any money at all on that), but they made the life I have today possible.  Today I'm praying for the loving and the loved.       

For those who love people at all stages of development,

Thanks be to God.

For the myriad challenges young people face,

Lord, hear our prayer.

Is there anything of yours I can hold in prayer this week, too?  Do you know teens that we can give thanks for, or who need a bit of grace?  Are you noticing any parts of your own teenage self that are still wrestling with things this week?

Bullets, Again. Crabby ones.

• Things that used to be easy are hard now.  Being with a lot of new people all the time-- hard.  Used to be easy.  Even though they're lovely.
• I'm feeling simultaneously overwhelmed and insignificant.  Not insignificant in the beautiful, "look at the vast sea, and the billions of stars, and consider your size in proportion to the splendid universe" way.  Insignificant in the, "So what, you're overwhelmed?  Big damn deal.  You're fine." kind of way.  
• In the last month, I started seminary, our apartment flooded, we found a new place to live, and we moved.  That truly is a lot.  Our old apartment became inhabitable.  Unrestored, post-flood.  Moldy.  Stuff is just stuff, but it's still a damn lot of upheaval, plus our wedding pictures. 
• We've been moved, only have odds and ends to take care of at the old place.  Our movers were excellent, worth every penny, a blessing to us.
• I keep trying to piece together why undergrad felt so much warmer than seminary.  I do not like competition very much, and when we're all working for such similar things (even in radically different ways), there can be an element of competition (or of needing to be right).  It screws with my shalom.
• I long, nay, pine, for the return of routine.  Maybe by next month.  I really need some nice, cozy familiarity.  I'm wearing a cozy sweater/wrap/shawl thing today, just because a cocoon seemed like a good idea.
• Someone said to me a couple of years ago that I "seemed angry" about The Process.  You know what?  I am.  And maybe that's not a character flaw on my part.
• I really want to be gentle with people, because it seems to me there's an incredible drought of gentle listening.
• (Yes, I get that I'm talking about anger and gentleness in almost the same breath.  I, like Whitman, am large and contain multitudes.)

To sum up:  I'm crabby.  And mad as hell at the arrogance of telling other people how they should feel.  Makes me want to use all sorts of rude British words. 

Wednesday Prayers: The Enemy of the Good

I wrote three mediocre papers this week.  I'm not excited about them, but I didn't get paralyzed by perfectionism.  In context, and given my history, that's a victory.


Movers are coming tomorrow, and things are not in pristine order.  I wanted them to be, but making sure the last days in our first home were peaceful and loving was more important to me than tidying.  We (mostly Dave) did some, but not all.  And really, if we'd had the time and energy to get everything in place, we wouldn't have had to hire movers.  So be it. 

For the grace to just be "good enough," thanks be to God.  

Week 4 Summary: More Bullets! Keeping My Head Above Water!

Hey, y'all.  I cannot stop making water references.  I'm cracking up a little here, in the flood aftermath.

• Flood Stink continues.  Move is scheduled for 10/7.  (That's right, a week from yesterday.  We're charging at a breakneck speed around here.)
• Dave is rivaling Hercules for accomplishing monumental tasks.  He's cleaning the new apartment and this one, and generally making my life so much easier.
• School is not making my life easier.  3 papers this week.  Not long ones, but... oy.
• Still haven't shaken last week's cold/flu/icky bug.  This is not like my immune system, and very annoying.
• Have I mentioned that the new place is pretty cute?  I'll give a little tour soon.
• Our new address is shorter than our current one!   That makes me happy, because it's quicker to write on the upper corner of envelopes.
• ALSO, Williams-Sonoma for the WIN!  (But you knew that, anyway, right?)  I ordered a new address plate for my embosser Sunday night, and it was here TUESDAY MORNING.  Those people are on TOP of things!
• Church History:  shockingly, my favorite class of the semester.  I thought it would be my least favorite, but I love it.  I can't wait to have more semesters of this.  Also, it's addressing more of my denomination-search questions than anything else.  Did you know that we mix water and wine in the chalice as a symbol of (well, "symbol"... that's a whole other argument) our joining with the body of Christ?  And it's been that way since the 2nd century C.E.?  You probably did, but it was cool news to me.  (I love communion.  I miss communion.  Yes, I should be going to chapel, and haven't been regularly.  Also church.  The "shoulds" are about to devour me, folks.)
• I'm reasonably sure I won the small formation group lottery.  Seriously.  Mine's awesome.
• You know that old saw that the same kind of issue/person will keep popping up in your life until you figure out how to deal with it?  Annoying and true.

 You'll get more than just bullets at some point, I promise, but this month has just been way more about breadth than depth.  (I'll be glad when that changes.)

And, like Diane, I still miss my bloggy friends.  (Hey-- that reminds me-- I'm not ignoring comments, I'm just taking them too seriously to slap off a quick reply.  Soon.  I hope.)

Wednesday Prayers: Moving

Remember the Flood Stink?  It hasn't gone away.  It was the last straw.

We've been thinking about moving for a very long time, and on Sunday (our 7th anniversary), we signed a new lease.

We'll be saying goodbye to:

• Our first home together.
• ...where we've had many delightful guests.
• The neighborhood route we've been running together for years (where Dave started running!).
• Kind, helpful neighbors.
• An excellent pizza place just 4 doors down.
• A tiny comic book store with a charming proprietor.
• The library down the street where Dave has volunteered for ages.
• A very spacious home.
• An avocado green refrigerator,  (That's one goodbye we're happy about!)
• A creek next to our building that has ducklings every year.
• Our heron friend at the nearby pond.
• A lot of stuff (the new place is tiny).
• Our favorite fishmonger.

We'll be saying hello to:

• Old friends just blocks away.
• A bustling downtown with galleries, shops, and restaurants.
• A CLEAN, SAFE apartment with a great landlord.
• A slightly dodgy neighborhood.
• A tiny, cozy space, where we'll try to think carefully about what our living space really means to us.
• A very short commute for me.
• A chance to offer hospitality to my fellow students.
• A new train commute for Dave (sometimes).
• New neighbors.

In all, it's a good trade, but it's important to me to remember that there are celebrations and losses living side by side.

For all of us in the midst of upheaval and transition, Lord have mercy.

How about you?  Are you in a transition I can pray for with you?  Is there anything else I can be praying about in your life?

More Bad Theology

I don't believe that God gives anyone cancer, but apparently I do believe that sometimes, enough is enough and God should do something to get the bad stuff to back the hell off.

What the hell, God?  This is completely unsat.

Faster Than a Speeding Bullet

I've written half a dozen posts in my head, and then... well, I've stumbled to my desk and the dining room chair and into bed.  Not a whole lot of leftover energy right now.  SO, that means it's bullet time!

• We've done all the flood cleaning we can.  The ugly couch is officially HISTORY!  But so are a couple bookshelves (books were OK, whew).  Rugs are gone, as are a few other pieces of furniture.  So be it.  We were all OK.
• Nothing's been done to clean the building itself yet, so the basement/crawl space still has a distinctive Flood Stink.  That emanates into the apartment.  This is not OK.
• The mess has increased neighborliness.  The woman next door had dinner with us last night!  Love it.
  
• I'm so, so grateful that I started on some of the reading before classes started.  Because of the chaos at home, that might be the only thing that's...well... kept me afloat, as it were.
• I still love reading.  I'm a completely and totally promiscuous reader.  It's all awesome.
• My preference for small groups over large ones is pretty strong.  No kidding chaplaincy feels better than parish ministry.  How did I overlook this in The Process?
• Holy Crap, I'm still working on all the stuff that goes along with being denominationally homeless.  I somehow thought that would be parenthetical here, because there are students from so many different traditions (as well as a few others who are undeclared, like me).  Nope.  Comes up again and again.  Ouch.  Clearly an invitation to prayer, as it's just a big mess in my heart.
• I'm taking:  Women & the Old Testament, Intro to Theology, Intro to Old Testament, Addiction & Recovery, and Church History (plus the weekly formation group that's mandatory for all MDivs).  My expectations about which classes I'd like best were exactly wrong.
• I feel deeply at home in libraries.  And very few other places.
• Edith Piaf is perfect library music.
• People hug here.  Which makes it an anomaly in Central PA. I think maybe I used to hug people?
• Dave and I had a fairly normal Sunday morning, and that was the best thing that's happened to me in weeks.  So nice to just run, and have breakfast, and enjoy shared stillness.
• I miss my bloggy friends.  
• My affection for Denison is unabated.  Being a commuter student is just not the same as being right in the middle of school all the time.  It's right for this season in my life, but I'm so grateful that I had 4 undergrad years that were ridiculous and wonderful and full.  Also, I miss the diversity of majors.  (Why were so many of my favorite people in totally different disciplines?  I dunno, but I loved that.)

I clearly have the verbosity of the sleep deprived, so I'd better sign off before I get even nuttier.  One last thing, though, and this is important:

I realized last week that so many of you have been with me for years, encouraging me and supporting me, weeping when I weep, and rejoicing when I rejoice.  I'm so grateful.  I hate to imagine formation, discernment, and friendship without you.  There's a strong Texas contingent, a healthy Ohio delegation, and remarkable others without whom I can't imagine having started seminary.  Thank you.  Really.  You've been a tremendous gift.

On the Just and the Unjust

I jotted notes in my margins today to tell you all the marvelous things that are happening at school, but that's all been trumped by... EVACUATION!

Our apartment flooded.  Heck, the whole damn region flooded.  The amount of rain here is unreal, I've never seen anything like it, it's kind of terrifying.

I'm incredibly grateful to be safe, and accompanied by our (completely traumatized) cats.  Also grateful for Dave's hotel discounts! 

I often sing old gospel songs when I'm scared (well, not when taking tests or interviewing... more like when driving, or having an MRI).  On the half hour drive to Harrisburg, I sang, and three cats joined me.  It's hard to say which of us sounded worst.  Also:  "streams of mercy, never ceasing" has a whole new meaning for me now.

Dave's stranded in NYC.  Yet again, a natural disaster has kept him from getting home.  Poor guy-- I think it's hard to be helpless while your wife is dealing with an emergency.

But seriously, y'all:  NEW COUCH!  Right?  This totally justifies it.

Prayers for everyone here, please.  The woman who checked me in tonight said that they're taking people out of her neighborhood by boat.

Wednesday Prayers: Voices

Yesterday, as I listened to my fellow students introduce themselves, I was struck by the variety and beauty of their voices.  There are a lot of southerners in my class, and there's no accent in the world more soothing to me (I thank Miss Lynn for that).  There's a woman from West Africa, and if she could read the charts and data in one of my texts, I'd actually enjoy the experience (raw data gives me hives).  There are deep bass voices and soft sopranos.  It's gorgeous. 

A college friend came back from years abroad sounding Scottish!  Bizarrely, it suited perfectly, and was a delight.

At the end of Oasis Ministry's spiritual director training,  I told my classmates that when I started, I felt like I'd totally lost my voice, and they helped me find it again.  A particularly dear friend told me that it was apparent to him all along, I had just stopped being able to hear it.

Thank God for each of our voices.  God spoke us into being, and our own voices must be part of our work as co-creators with God.  I pray that I can learn to respect my own, to celebrate others', and to listen for God's.  I pray for the wisdom and compassion to sit with those who have been silenced.

As you listen to the music of the voices around you, what are you hearing this week?  May I pray about any of it with you?

The Night Before the First Day of School

I finished my laptop bag, just in time!

The outside:

 The little harness bit for one's laptop:

And the zipper pocket.  Its cheerful lining is evidence that OOPS! is the mother of invention.  The Juicy Fruit is from Dave, because it's good for your soul.

And all three pictures are sideways, because it truly is the day before school, I have to go pack my gym bag and lay out my clothes, and that's just the way it is!

Dave's headed off to NYC tomorrow, and that's just the way it is, too.  On the up side, I've got a cousin in Canada pulling for me to have a good first day, and that went pretty far towards perking me back up.

I'll have Intro to Old Testament and Ministerial Formation tomorrow.  Wednesday, I'll have Church History and Intro to Theology.  Thursday, Old Testament, Women and the Hebrew Bible, and Addictions and Recovery.  I'm especially excited about the last one-- the books for it are WONDERFUL. 

More later, y'all.  Sleep tight!

Bigger

I've got the Veggie Tales song, "God is Bigger Than the Boogieman" stuck in my head, and it's a good thing. There are a zillion things I'm looking forward to about school (I know, I know-- I owe you an update!), but there's someone I'm very afraid of whom I will almost certainly run into on campus.

But God is bigger. Bigger than him, and bigger than my fear. Who knows-- perhaps by being in proximity again, God will help me to see this man as the size he really is, and not as the giant I've turned him into. He's not huge, and I'm truly not small.

Prayers toward that end are, of course, always welcome.

Wednesday Prayers: Welcome Home

I dallied in writing my weekly post today, and it worked out for the best. Rather than musing on something that'll bore the pants off half of you, I get to just offer up a loud, happy, "THANKS BE TO GOD!!!!!"

A friend's husband has returned from deployment. Hallelujah.

Welcome home, Joe.

Internalized Sexism

I bought (most of) my books last week, and I'm trying to make a dent in them this week (as I'm a little concerned that this first semester is going to be crazy). Yesterday, I read bell hooks' Feminism is for EVERYBODY. The following stuck out to me:

We all knew firsthand that we had been socialized as females by patriarchal thinking to see ourselves as inferior to men, to see ourselves as always and only in competition with one another for patriarchal approval, to look upon each other with jealousy, fear, and hatred. Sexist thinking made us judge each other without compassion and punish one another harshly. (p. 14)

I've been thinking about the ways women compare ourselves to one another, and the lethal effect that competition has on relationships for a long time now. I've never thought of it being linked to sexism, but in retrospect, it hugely is.

Here are a few examples I can think of:

• We diminish attractive women by making them out to be stupid.
• We snarl at women with whom "our" men might enjoy some sort of connection.
• In order to have friendships with other women, we sacrifice ourselves by pretending we're less than we really are.
• In order to have friendships with other women, we sacrifice them by pretending they're less than they really are.
• We reject women based on their choices of dress, particularly when clothing displays a womanly form.
• We establish connection with one woman by disparaging others.
• We reject friendships with women in favor of friendships with men, claiming that women are in some way separate from or beneath us.
• We have to feel better than someone else in order to feel adequate ourselves.
• We belittle women's sexuality, either its absence or its obviousness.
  

This is just a start, and just off the top of my head, but I can think of examples in my own life of everything listed. Sometimes I'm the perpetrator, and sometimes I'm the recipient. I've always thought it was about insecurity, and there's that too, but it really is hugely about sexism. I don't compare myself to men. I can have friendships with men without competing. (For that matter, I count myself as extremely lucky to have some noncompetitive, supportive female friendships.)

How are we as women perpetuating sexism? We can react against it in men and still lash out with it against other women. This matters. It shreds the bonds of love, affection and support that human beings were created for. Can you see it in your life? Can you envision the generosity and freedom of a world without it?

Wednesday Prayers: TMG

Baby prayers this week: a wonderful couple welcomed a new addition on Sunday, and I'm praying for their family and their future. These are some of my favorite prayers: that they all learn and grow together, that there is joy in their household, and that they find strength and comfort in God in those inevitable times when there is grief. I'm praying that the new baby stays healthy and strong. I'm thanking God for delivering him to such excellent parents.

And while I'm giving these thanks, I'm also holding M and her family in prayer. In the worst juxtaposition, she's losing a pregnancy now. She and her new husband are sure to be grieving. These are prayers for which I don't have words.

A Quick Peek at LTS

Hi, y'all.

I'm having the darnedest time feeling like school is real, and about to start. The last time I did this, all my friends were doing it, too, and there was momentum. This time, it's just lonely me, waiting another week to schedule classes. I'm a wade-in kind of woman, and this seems like it's going to wind up being a dive-in situation. (The waiting, and the nothingingness until the waiting's over.... AUUUUUGH!!!!)

So I decided to drop by the school yesterday, and take a few pictures. Maybe by showing you where I'll be, it'll start to feel more real, and I'll feel more involved.

It's a little-bitty campus right downtown in (very, very) historic Lancaster City. LTS is literally across the street from Franklin and Marshall College (it looks as though it could be an annex).

This is the front of the school, as seen from W. James St. I discovered that it's really hard to take pictures of large buildings downtown: I couldn't get far enough away! The chapel is in this building (on the left side), and so are several classrooms and offices.

This is the same building, different angle. I think the shape of the chancel is lovely, and wanted to show you.


This is the library. In addition to holding a great stock of books and historical documents, it also serves as a cautionary tale about mixing architectural styles.


Finally, a wee nook. I'm hoping it's used and enjoyed, as it looks awfully cozy to me.


It's a tiny but beautiful place, and better yet, the people have been open and welcoming. I met a 2nd year MDiv. student yesterday who was kind enough to introduce herself, and then tell me how much she loved the school. It's not an uncommon occurrence, but I think it may be an uncommon community.

Wednesday Prayers: Wondrous Variety

In an old movie, a child asks a man why he looks so different from everyone else, and the man replies, "Because Allah loves wondrous variety."

Bodies come in a beautiful variety of forms, and it feels awful to be ashamed of any of them.

Some women (myself among them) remember being instructed not to be a stumbling block to their brothers in Christ. If this is foreign to you, I can translate: having a discernible feminine form will get in the way of men's relationships with God. If teenage boys looked at you and thought of sex, you were responsible for coming between them and God. I'm sure that sounds laugh-out-loud funny to some of you, but to those of us who were raised that way, it's the root of real shame.

I see a lot of people dismissing other's pain, especially when it comes to body issues. I don't see your body the way you do, and so I assume that your feelings are misplaced, unnecessary. You feel old, but I see glamour, and so I don't bother to listen about what it means to you to feel old. Someone's body feels uncomfortable to them, and that makes us uncomfortable, so we change the subject, instead of being a safe place for them to be honest.

This week, I'm praying for bodies: that we respect our own and appreciate them, and treat those belonging to others with kindness.

Coming Soon!

Lovely people have wondered what's happening when with seminary, so here's what I've got:

8/16: I meet with someone to schedule classes and do a brief-ish timed writing. (The writing is just to evaluate whether incoming students need additional help. Despite knowing that, I'm a little nervous.) I will be tremendously relieved to have a schedule and know what my classes will be. (In the meantime, it would probably be wise to use an awareness of "not knowing" as a spiritual practice.)

8/29: New student orientation! We'll meet each other, and learn where the restrooms are. (I assume there will be other info as well, of course.)

9/6: Classes begin!

Wednesday Prayers: Union

Dave and I have begun to exchange lists of things we'd like the other to pray about through the week. This is delightful to me. When we have so little time together, I feel a peculiar closeness to Dave when I talk to God about him.

This week, in addition to praying Dave's thanks and petitions, I'm rejoicing at this very act of mutual prayer. I've been part of prayer partnerships with other people at different points in my life, and it inevitably changes my relationship with them. The friendship doesn't always hold in the long run (people change, circumstances shift, and you know sometimes I'm a cranky pain in the rear), but linking their lives with God through the act of my prayer irrevocably affects their value to me. I become more willing to be compassionate, and my understanding that they are entirely beloved by God lingers past our time of commitment.

Do you pray with anyone? Have you committed to praying for someone? Can I pray with you?

Wednesday Prayers: Wisdom

It feels like there are a lot of decisions to be made right now, and a number of things to be evaluated. Should we find a different apartment? Am I making the best possible (which is not necessarily the same as "good") choices in my relationships with family? How should Dave and I structure the scarce time we have together?

Some of the decisions are easy: our new rule that if Dave's not in the car by X'clock, I'm going to start dinner and eat without him.

Some are midlevel: an apartment with the perfect location, but a butt-ugly interior. Well, it meets nine out of ten criteria, but it misses the target.

Some are really tough. Some don't have a right answer, and are hard to live with every single day, because there isn't a happy, tidy solution. Those are the ones where I especially want wisdom. I grew up thinking that if you made the right choice, you'd feel peaceful about it. In some situations, I'm not sure that's exactly accurate. Sometimes, even with the best choice, you just feel sad and tired.

I'm praying for wisdom this week. What are you praying for?

Running With Joy

As I'm trying to get back on my feet (as it were) running-wise, post-injury, I've been doing the Couch-to-5k plan. On one hand it's very weird, because I've never had to intersperse running with walking before (though I have run very, very slowly). On the other hand, it's glorious, because I'm running again! I'm overwhelmed with gratitude each time I head out and back now. It means so much to me to be able to hit the pavement. (Well, the track, actually, because until I'm stronger, I want a more giving surface than asphalt or concrete.)

Dave did today's run/walk with me, and on the way home we talked about running goals. I've always wanted to go faster and longer (and to be frank: I've certainly always had a lot of room for improvement). But what I want most is to be running when I'm old. This lady is one of my heroes.

If I'm going to run when I'm 80, I must run now. I must strength train, cross-train, rest, eat well, listen to my body, and make wise decisions. (OK, yes, the woman in the article didn't start until her 60s-- but who wants to take that risk?) I want to go the distance. I'm not training for the next race, the next distance, or the next PR. I'm training for the race on my 80th birthday.

Wednesday Prayers: Bodies and Fruitcakes

"I treat my body like a temple
You treat yours like a tent."
-Jimmy Buffett, Fruitcakes.

I don't think people in general are great about respecting their bodies, let alone marveling at all the things they can do and experience. I think Christians in particular have taught and have been taught that our bodies are inherently sinful and a source of shame, which I passionately believe is a bunch of evil, destructive hooey.

So this week, I'm praying about our bodies. That we respect and enjoy them, that we notice them, that we express our gratitude for them. Let's pray for our bodies, let's thank God for them, and then let's pray with our bodies. Let's sniff the flowers and the charcoal grills, and wonder at our olfactory sense. Let's feel the breeze on our skin, and rejoice over a God who continually gives us the ability to experience pleasure.

Our bodies are not our enemies. Our strengths, our senses, and our sensuality are all gifts from God. I don't know about you, but I'm damn disappointed when people don't enjoy the gifts I plan for them. We have weaknesses, limitations, struggles, but our bodies are gifts, not repositories for shame and rejection.

I'm better at some parts of this than others. I'm great with the thrill of feeling strong after exercise. I'm great with enjoying a fuzzy sweater against my fingers. I'm really, really not great with being a curvy adult woman. I have lost count of the ways that's been made a source of shame.

I'll be praying for my body in the coming week, and for yours, too. Join me?

Preparation

Many years ago, at the diocesan discernment retreat, the priest leading my small group looked at my carefully organized notebook and completed homework and asked, "Is it stressful to be that anal retentive?"

While he was introducing himself to me.

I was too young, and trying too hard to practice that "obedience" bit to respond, but by now I know about myself that he had the wrong idea entirely.

Planning is part of anticipation for me, and it's pure joy. I love love love imagining what might be, and I'm rarely married to any particular outcome. Preparation is how I look forward to something, how I get excited and pumped up. Buying notebooks or pens in August isn't just checking items off a list, it's "I'm going to get to use these soon! Think of all the things I'll learn and the friends I'll make!"

I get to schedule my classes in mid-August. I have to wait until then. Orientation's in mid-/late August. There's very little I can plan or anticipate right now, so I'm wondering silly things like, "What will I wear on my first day of classes?" I'm kind of disappointed that there's such a small window for preparation and imagination. Right now, it's just a big old blank chalkboard, and I don't know which colors of chalk I'm going to be allowed to use.

Clearly, this would be a great time to practice being in the moment, instead of being several moments ahead. (AHAHAHAHAHAHA. That's a good one. *snort*)

(This is, by the way, a fairly typical Enneagram 7 thing. More on that later.)

Wednesday Prayers: Safe Travels

Regular readers (and friends who patiently listen to me whine) won't be surprised to hear that today, I'm praying for safe travels. Dave's on his third out-of-town trip in as many weeks, with more yet to come.

I was very, very lucky growing up, because my mom was extremely conscientious about making sure I knew what would happen in the event that something happened to her. I knew who my guardian would be, or who would have power of attorney. I knew where I would live, what the insurance money would be, and that I would be the sole inheritor. I am tremendously grateful that she made those conversations normal; when a single parent deploys, that kind of frankness is genuinely reassuring. But because of that, I've always assumed that my loved ones would be far more likely to die young and suddenly than in illness and old age. I bet that sounds crazy to most of you, but in a military family, you're constantly aware that death and loss are real, plausible outcomes. It's literally only been within the last few months that it dawned on me that it's possible Dave and I might grow old together.

I get a little nervous when Dave goes on long trips. (I don't think other people would know that. Heck, when I finally told Dave recently, even he was surprised.) I am by nature anti-cling, so I love when one of us heads off for adventure (or to check on servers and USBs and rogue networks), but there's a sliver of me that's always braced for bad news.

So, I'm praying that Dave is safe, that I am peaceful, and also that God will be with me, whatever happens.

I Give In!

Dave's out of town so much for work this summer that I'm starting to suspect someone believes they can get state secrets out of me by putting me in a David Deprivation Tank.

I'll talk, I'll talk!

Wednesday Prayers: Classmates

I am hugely, enormously relationship-based. I love solitude, but even my time alone is often spent in relationship-- with God, or with beloved writers. So it's no surprise that, as I look forward to the beginning of my first semester of seminary, I'm thinking about relationships.

I'm praying, starting now, but hopefully up to and beyond graduation, that my classmates and I learn to love each other. If loving God and loving others is the foundation of our ministries (of our lives!), then look! We have each other to practice on. There will be scores of us, and of course we won't all become close. But we CAN all love each other.

I pray we learn to deal graciously and generously with one another, that we learn to hear what people are saying (rather than holding it up to what WE would say). I pray that we act both kindly and honestly. I pray that we trust each other, and that we earn that trust. I pray that we celebrate our truest selves, rather than dismissing our colleagues with superficial assumptions. The God who is Love will be with us always, among us and within us. May we truly serve that God.

Can I pray over your efforts to love and be loved? Let me know.