Two things:
In the last week, I've had three de facto counseling sessions and I've learned something: This is what I do. This is what gives me life. I know, I know . . . "duh." But I've had some time off and I've really, really, really enjoyed it and I was starting to dread going back to work. Now I remember why, a lot of the time, it doesn't even feel like work. It's time to get busy again.
Which brings me to the second thing:
I have an interview with a board member from the Samaritan Center Friday morning at 10 a.m. Ask God to give me wisdom to discern whether this is the place for me. The friend who set up the meeting said, "I think Samaritan will give you a big enough backyard to play in." Ask God to help me know the truth and especially the unspoken truth.
Wednesday, July 25, 2007
Tuesday, July 24, 2007
More books I've read lately
Messy Spirituality by Mike Yaconelli is the last collection of his writing before he died. It's good but not great; kind of a cross between Donald Miller and Max Lucado. Too "inspirational" for me, but thought-provoking and perfect for lots of people I know.
OK, so on to two books that have really stayed with me:
Between Two Worlds is Elizabeth's Marquadt's clinical study into the experience of adult children of divorce who grew up with both parents involved and who show up in other studies as well-functioning. Although clinically, these children weathered their parents' divorces with few symptoms and minimal disruption, their answers to questionnaires and interviews tell another story.While Marquadt acknowledges that divorce is sometimes necessary and that it is preferable for both prents to stay involved, she describes the lack of place and identity that the children of even "good divorces" experience. Her subjects describe how children feel incomplete at each parent's house because the other parent isn't there; how they often feel required to split themselves in two psychically in order to survive emotionally at each house; how even under the best of circumstances they feel unable to resolve within themselves the very differences that their parents couldn't resolve in the marriage. This isn't a book about divorce but about children and I'm glad that Marquadt gave them a voice.
I also finally read Leaving Church: A Memoir of Faith by Barbara Brown Taylor and I'll just put it this way: I had dog-eared 8 pages before I finished the first couple of chapters. This is not really the story of leaving church entirely but the story of a gifted Episcopal priest examining her journey into vocational ministry, her wrenching burn-out, and her decision to exchange the pulpit for a secular teaching position. She captured me in the introduction when she writes that there are really only two stages of faith for the Christian: a cycle of finding life and losing life and then finding life again. There are the best descriptions of the hidden motivations and subtle manipulations of ministers that I have ever read, followed by a deeply poignant description of what it means to burn out in ministry that made me want to cry for all my brothers and sisters who find this path unbearably difficult and painful. In the end, she finds life again and finds it abundantly and I'm glad, but also sad. Sad that she had to find it away from the ministry that promised so much life, away from the worshipping community that she clearly loves, sad that the church that birthed her couldn't nourish her. I'll reread this book several times, I imagine, before it finally sifts through all my own ambivalence and settles in to my own rhythm of finding life and losing life and finding it again.
OK, so on to two books that have really stayed with me:
Between Two Worlds is Elizabeth's Marquadt's clinical study into the experience of adult children of divorce who grew up with both parents involved and who show up in other studies as well-functioning. Although clinically, these children weathered their parents' divorces with few symptoms and minimal disruption, their answers to questionnaires and interviews tell another story.While Marquadt acknowledges that divorce is sometimes necessary and that it is preferable for both prents to stay involved, she describes the lack of place and identity that the children of even "good divorces" experience. Her subjects describe how children feel incomplete at each parent's house because the other parent isn't there; how they often feel required to split themselves in two psychically in order to survive emotionally at each house; how even under the best of circumstances they feel unable to resolve within themselves the very differences that their parents couldn't resolve in the marriage. This isn't a book about divorce but about children and I'm glad that Marquadt gave them a voice.
I also finally read Leaving Church: A Memoir of Faith by Barbara Brown Taylor and I'll just put it this way: I had dog-eared 8 pages before I finished the first couple of chapters. This is not really the story of leaving church entirely but the story of a gifted Episcopal priest examining her journey into vocational ministry, her wrenching burn-out, and her decision to exchange the pulpit for a secular teaching position. She captured me in the introduction when she writes that there are really only two stages of faith for the Christian: a cycle of finding life and losing life and then finding life again. There are the best descriptions of the hidden motivations and subtle manipulations of ministers that I have ever read, followed by a deeply poignant description of what it means to burn out in ministry that made me want to cry for all my brothers and sisters who find this path unbearably difficult and painful. In the end, she finds life again and finds it abundantly and I'm glad, but also sad. Sad that she had to find it away from the ministry that promised so much life, away from the worshipping community that she clearly loves, sad that the church that birthed her couldn't nourish her. I'll reread this book several times, I imagine, before it finally sifts through all my own ambivalence and settles in to my own rhythm of finding life and losing life and finding it again.
Sunday, July 22, 2007
Stuff
I've spent the last 6 months sorting stuff, cleaning stuff, painting stuff, giving stuff away, selling stuff, packing stuff and moving stuff. Then I unpacked stuff, bought new stuff, cleaned more stuff, gave more stuff away, painted stuff, organized stuff, and decorated stuff.
I'm afraid that when I finally meet Him, Jesus will say to me, "What part of 'Don't store up treasures on earth' did you not understand?"
I'm afraid that when I finally meet Him, Jesus will say to me, "What part of 'Don't store up treasures on earth' did you not understand?"
Saturday, July 14, 2007
My face hurts from smiling
Craig took me to hear Martina McBride in concert tonight. Not everyone knows this, but I am a big fan. Her music touches my heart and always, always makes me smile.
Surprised?
Surprised?
Thursday, July 12, 2007
I don't have time for this, but . . .
My to-do list tells me that I really don't have time to fiddle with my blog right now, but I'm hoping that a little writing will unstick my brain and unparalyze my spirit and free me up to do what I really need to be doing.
Which is getting ready for tomorrow night.
Which is the night I'm supposed to speak for the first time at MBC.
The women's ministry asked me back in the spring to do a retreat-type thing for them and I said okay. Asked how many we would have and they said 40 is a really good turn-out.
100 women have bought tickets to the thing tomorrow night. If I call the church secretary, I'll probably find out it's over that now. The fellowship hall won't even hold that many.
OK, so why do I feel like throwing up? I've spoken in front of groups that big and far bigger. I'm using material I've done before and really like. I feel passionate about my topic. I like these women. So . . . what's up?
Part of it is that every comment I hear just increases the pressure. The women's ministry committee is so excited because they've never had this kind of interest before and they keep saying, "You're such a draw! Everyone's coming to hear you!" I've heard, "My marriage is falling apart but I just keep thinking that if I can hold on til Friday night, I'll be okay." "My daughter-in-law isn't a Christian but I just keep thinking that if I can get her there Friday night, something might happen! Look for her, okay?"
You all know that I love being a pastor's wife, right? But this is the part that I don't love: people project so much onto you that there's no way to live up to their expectations. So this is the part where I remind myself that living up to other people's expectations isn't what I'm all about and that their disappointment isn't the worst thing that can happen.
So, what is the worst that can happen? Well, for one thing, we might all forget that God has some thoughts about what the night is supposed to be about and none of them begin and end with me! Another "worst" thing is that everyone could actually be impressed with some image of me and want to keep that little illusion going indefinitely. And here's what I heard way back in the back of my brain as I was walking today: "The worst thing that could happen is 100 women wanting to be my best friend." Which is another thing about being a pastor's wife that is hard for me.
So, now I've come full circle. Now I need to ask the corollary question, "What's the best thing that could happen?" Well . . . I'm thinking . . . the best thing that can happen is that we get to know each other a little better, that most of the women leave feeling encouraged and like maybe they know me a little bit better, and that God gets all the credit for such a relaxed and wonderful evening at church.
Am I unstuck? Maybe . . . I'll go work on my talk and see. Thanks for listening.
Which is getting ready for tomorrow night.
Which is the night I'm supposed to speak for the first time at MBC.
The women's ministry asked me back in the spring to do a retreat-type thing for them and I said okay. Asked how many we would have and they said 40 is a really good turn-out.
100 women have bought tickets to the thing tomorrow night. If I call the church secretary, I'll probably find out it's over that now. The fellowship hall won't even hold that many.
OK, so why do I feel like throwing up? I've spoken in front of groups that big and far bigger. I'm using material I've done before and really like. I feel passionate about my topic. I like these women. So . . . what's up?
Part of it is that every comment I hear just increases the pressure. The women's ministry committee is so excited because they've never had this kind of interest before and they keep saying, "You're such a draw! Everyone's coming to hear you!" I've heard, "My marriage is falling apart but I just keep thinking that if I can hold on til Friday night, I'll be okay." "My daughter-in-law isn't a Christian but I just keep thinking that if I can get her there Friday night, something might happen! Look for her, okay?"
You all know that I love being a pastor's wife, right? But this is the part that I don't love: people project so much onto you that there's no way to live up to their expectations. So this is the part where I remind myself that living up to other people's expectations isn't what I'm all about and that their disappointment isn't the worst thing that can happen.
So, what is the worst that can happen? Well, for one thing, we might all forget that God has some thoughts about what the night is supposed to be about and none of them begin and end with me! Another "worst" thing is that everyone could actually be impressed with some image of me and want to keep that little illusion going indefinitely. And here's what I heard way back in the back of my brain as I was walking today: "The worst thing that could happen is 100 women wanting to be my best friend." Which is another thing about being a pastor's wife that is hard for me.
So, now I've come full circle. Now I need to ask the corollary question, "What's the best thing that could happen?" Well . . . I'm thinking . . . the best thing that can happen is that we get to know each other a little better, that most of the women leave feeling encouraged and like maybe they know me a little bit better, and that God gets all the credit for such a relaxed and wonderful evening at church.
Am I unstuck? Maybe . . . I'll go work on my talk and see. Thanks for listening.
Tuesday, July 10, 2007
Thanks, Dad, for everything
I spent the day today with my dad--a rare and lovely gift. He came over to see the house for the first time and to help me put shelves in the cubby above the computer. Most of you don't know my dad and that's a shame. I truly hope you at least know someone like him--thoughtful, humble, generous, wise.
For one thing, he knows how to do things like put up shelves. Mowgli and Boo still refer to him as "really, really smart." He's retired, which for him translates, "free to do things that have meaning and lasting value that you can't necessarily get paid for." He has ideals and values in the truest sense of the words and he works as hard as anyone I know to live up to them; he often looks confused when others don't. He's going to be really embarassed when he reads this post because he'll think of all the ways he's not who he wants to be, which says something important about who he is.
Like all of us, he's "wonderfully flawed" and I was immeasurably blessed to grow up to be his daughter.
For one thing, he knows how to do things like put up shelves. Mowgli and Boo still refer to him as "really, really smart." He's retired, which for him translates, "free to do things that have meaning and lasting value that you can't necessarily get paid for." He has ideals and values in the truest sense of the words and he works as hard as anyone I know to live up to them; he often looks confused when others don't. He's going to be really embarassed when he reads this post because he'll think of all the ways he's not who he wants to be, which says something important about who he is.
Like all of us, he's "wonderfully flawed" and I was immeasurably blessed to grow up to be his daughter.
Monday, July 9, 2007
Breaking in the house . . . literally
Finally just got rid of 21 teenagers and 6 adults and 1 toddler and 1 baby . . . It was such a blessing to see the house full (and I do mean full) of kids wanting to pray together and study together . . . and we are exhausted! The house survived, except for a broken back door, which a youth worker is coming back to repair. We're still not sure how it happened! I took the kids through a session of lectio divina and they actually seemed to enjoy it. (I think it was a lot shorter than the typical youth Bible study.) Pizza before and brownies after helps draw them in and builds community, but they seem to really crave the quiet and the prayer and the discussion. We feel blessed.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)