Disappointment or Distortion?

A little over a week ago, I had this encounter.  I ran into a friend who had journeyed with me through a season of waiting (not a faith crisis like this one, but simply waiting).  As we caught up, it became obvious that I am less than happy with my life at the moment.  (I think people figure it out pretty quickly when I refer to work as "prison.")  Being the concerned, dedicated, Christian woman that she is, she asked me, "Are you disappointed with God?"

I can honestly say that I'm not disappointed with God.  (I'll explain why later in the post).

Her parting words to me were one of the reasons that I decided I needed to reach out to you all: "I'm glad to hear that, but I think you need to take some time to look at your life because I think God is disappointed with you."

I went home with my head and heart spinning.  What did I do to disappoint God?  Was I wrong to leave teaching to go into ministry?  Or should I have stayed in LaPorte?  Or perhaps I should have worked harder at fitting in and playing the game in Olean?  Was T.A.G. a huge mistake that God was just sadly shaking his head over?  Or going to YS this year?  Did I completely misread what was happening during that Imaginative Prayer session and simply just add to the number of opportunities I had completely blown?  Or maybe my version of art/creativity?  Or maybe my ways of praying weren't appropriate for the Almighty (and all those pastors at General Assembly were right)?

After hearing her words replay in my head a million times, I finally wrote this in my journal (which is where I often write my prayers): "I don't know where I went so wrong, but I've disappointed you just like I've disappointed everyone else who matters in my life.  I'm so sorry.  And it's no wonder that I try to avoid so many people these days.  What am I suppose to say when they ask 'What are you up to?'  Oh nothing much, just disappointing the Creator of the Universe?"  In the process of writing these words, the pain and tears were out of control.

(Shawn: it was the following morning that you asked me how I was doing.  Now you know why I didn't respond.  There just wasn't enough time to have the emotional breakdown before we had to be back up front...)

Ok, so shortly after that, I was reading Susan Isaac's book where she takes God to couples counseling.  Her main issue was her own misconceptions and distortions of her image of God.  So I started thinking about that... and I realized that I didn't think Jesus was disappointed in me - just God.  So what was the difference?

Well, Jesus is more personal to me.  Jesus is my beloved and I am his.  Jesus is the one who talks with me and hangs out with me when I want to spend a day going to a Cubs game, geocaching or baking "in the presence."  Jesus wants to be with me, and Jesus' love is completely unconditional.  But to me, God is a bit different.  God is the "big picture", Creator of the Universe, out of reach and never quite pleased with me.  God wants something from me/my life.  This is why I wasn't disappointed with God - I didn't really expect anything from him, so there was nothing to be disappointed about.  ... Now if Jesus had done all this to me...

So how did this bit of schizophrenia happen?

1. My childhoold church, with all its rules, always spoke of "God" and "Father."  It was more formal and imposing.  It was also scary when you were in trouble, yet again, for asking questions in Sunday School.  But the cool pastor who rescued me when I was kicked out of Sunday School always spoke of "Jesus" and this friendship/relationship/love.
2. "Father" brings up a whole other set of issues - ones that I worked out with my dad long ago, but ones that apparently are still influencing my image of God.  Dad was hard to please, always demanded our best, and stayed somewhat distant from us as we got older.  It wasn't that his love was conditional, but there were definite expectations in place that earned his wrath if we strayed.  I guess I kind of see God this way - somewhat distant, demanding, hard to please and with a bit of anger tossed in.
3. When the DuBois firestorm came, a good friend and fellow youth pastor gave me a book that talks about being crucified by the church.  The main point of the book comes around to say that God is orchestrating the crucifixion, that he chose for things to happen in such a way as to completely crush you and nearly destroy you.  Apparently some of that stuck with me because I've been keeping God at arm's length since then (and just hanging out with Jesus).

Stephen reminded me that "God will watch as you fall apart, and God will see you made whole again." which is from a song called "It's OK to Cry."  Very appropriate.  (By the way, for those who don't know Stephen's music, you have to check it out on iTunes!  Stephen, you can "owe" me for the commercial break.)  It's not that God causes the falling apart and then Jesus helps to pick up the pieces.  So, perhaps this silence/absence of Jesus' presence has something to do with the need for me to readjust my distorted image of God, the Father...

Thoughts?  Comments?  Sarcasm?  Humor?

Church

Unless otherwise specified, "church" refers to the church at large and not one specific congregation.

After talking with Lilly on the phone, an email from Stephen and a message from Jess, I realized that a lot of what I'm dealing with at this point is centered around church.  I've not exactly had the best church experiences along the way.  Although some have been great, I'd love to be able to walk away from church.

I'm tired of the politics.  I'm tired of all the fighting, backstabbing and gossip.  I'm tired of trying to be the church when most of the people I'm there with just want to come and "sit and soak".  I'm tired of church being more like entertainment than following Jesus.

I'm tired of the church telling me what to believe, when to believe, how to believe.  I'm tired of the church telling me what to do, when to do it and how to do it.  I'm tired of everyone wanting to know what denomination or "movement" I am associated with - as if knowing that would tell them everything they need to know about my relationship with Jesus.

I'm tired of the church acting as if it had all the answers.  If it really had all the answers, wouldn't we have solved the world's problems by now?  If the church has all the answers, why does poverty still exist?  Why does it take a natural disaster for the church to realize that the people of Haiti - or the people next door - need some help just to survive?

I'm tired of the church hurting my friends and family. My dad, Glenn, several people that I worked with in DuBois, Brian (a former student) and many others in my life have walked away from church because they have been wounded so deeply. Some have even given up on God because of what the church has done to them. I'm one of the fortunate ones who had people to help me see that the church is made up of imperfect people who screw up on a regular basis, and I was able to recover/am recovering from those hurtful experiences. But what about all these people who haven't been able to get past the hurt?

Which brings me to ... I'm tired of the church pretending.  I'm tired of hearing "I'll pray for you" and knowing full well that they will never actually do it.  (I should qualify this...I know some people actually mean it, but most don't).  I'm tired of the smiles and the "everything's fine" attitude that is expected in churches.  What if it was OK to actually say, "I'm doing lousy today.  Can you take the time to hear why?" instead of our typical responses during the greeting time.  I'm going to let you all in on a little secret:  When I say I'm "OK" or "Alright" I don't mean it!  If I can't make eye contact with you, I'm probably not being honest with you, and it's hard for me to open up in the few seconds we're given during a typical greeting.  Few people in my life have gotten to know me well enough to decode my responses.  I'm tired of having to pretend that everything in my life is fantastic just because I know Jesus.  I'm tired of having to pretend that Jesus makes you prosperous or nice or whatever it is that makes life good all the time.

And yet...

I can't walk away.  I keep trying to, and somehow I keep getting sucked back in.  I can't help but believe that the church can change, can be redeemed, can actually become what it was meant to be.

I once heard Mike Yaconelli say that he couldn't walk away from the church either.  He actually said he loved the church, and I thought he was crazy.  Of course, I was in the middle of a very unhealthy, abusive church situation at the time, but I still think Mike was a bit crazy.  I can't say that I truly love the church, but I also can't let it go.

There are some things I do love about the church - or at least the ones in which I've been involved.  I love the mentoring attitude that the people at the little church in Guys Mills (where I grew up) had - long before mentoring was a buzz word or a formal program.  I love the questioning and searching atmosphere that the church I attended in college allowed.  I love the freedom to explore different ways to connect with God that the LaPorte church allowed me to foster and share.  I love the grace and mercy that is often shown by the church in Meadville.  I love the sense of belonging and love that the youth in LP exhibited for one another.  I love the creativity and beauty that my YS "church" shares.  I love the community that can come from a group of people coming together, telling the truth and sharing the journey.

On several occasions, Glenn (remember - one of the highlights from DuBois) has asked me why I keep working for churches.  He knows my frustrations.  He knows why I'm tired of church.  He's been so badly scarred by the church - TWICE - that he's never going to go back.  So he can't understand, after watching me go through everything, why I don't walk away.  My only response has been that I believe the church can still be redeemed.  If Jesus can redeem our culture for his good, why not our church?  The church won't ever change unless someone is there to point out that change is needed.  The church will never focus more on loving people, being a community, telling the truth, seeking God, not pretending, sharing the journey, bringing justice, being the hands and feet of Jesus, ...  unless someone keeps pointing out that there is something wrong with the "sit and soak" model of Christianity/Churchianity.  For some reason, it seems that God wants me to be one those people.

I can't walk away, and yet I can't seem to break through the "HE must...", the doctrinal indoctrination and the pure ridiculousness of the job postings I sift through on a regular basis.  I see the same descriptions over and over again on the job bank, and everytime I see a new posting, I feel like I'm suffocating.  How do you tell someone in an interview that they will never be able to build their church and be the church if they only have the "up front, get all the answers" model, never allow their children or teens to be a part of worship (or any other part of the church for that matter), never encourage their people to think and feel and discover on their own, limit the creativity and beauty, never take time to actually listen for what God might have to say to them, and never actually consider going outside the building to BE the church in their communities and in the world!  And yet every single church I've ever interviewed with asks, "So what do you think of our church and our programs?"

So what am I to do with all this?

The Voices

I left Olean in April, and for awhile, the voices were encouraging. The folks in my parents' condo association rallied around and funneled job opportunities and lots of "everything will be OK" comments my way. Shawn (for those who don't know - he was one of my best friends in high school and is now the worship pastor at the church) asked me to play/sing with the praise team at church, and I found some cool people to pray and play with there. Wednesday night rehearsals became "church" for me. In the meantime, some of the people that I had connected with in Olean, as well as some friends from LaPorte, kept in touch and encouraged me regularly. In May, my folks moved out to camp at Pymatuning Lake (sort of, Mom stayed home more this summer than she was at the lake), and I was able to spend some time in silence and solutide, seeking out what God had next for me. The anger at the Olean church began to fade, healing began to take place, and I began to look ahead.

As the fall rolled around and my folks moved back home, things got a bit more difficult. Once again, I could do nothing right. Opportunities in the area to get into ministry were nonexistant, and I struggled with the possibility of moving away again. I finally had that conversation with my parents, and it didn't go well. Mom's response was Look at your dad. He worked at Channellock all those years and hated it, but he went every day because that's what he needed to do. You'll be OK. Just quit believing that you'll only be happy if you're working in ministry and learn to be OK with working for Todd. I wanted to respond that she also complained all the time because Dad was so unhappy and angry and often completely shut down, but I wisely held my tongue. Dad just said she was right and walked out of the house. I don't think he wanted to argue with her (as he was once said to me that I had to do what made me happy instead of being like him), but he also didn't want to give me permission to leave the area. Of course, in an effort to make me believe her point of view, Mom's negative voice became more persistent, and she began to ask everyone else in the neighborhood to try to convince me that she was right as well. The old feelings of being worthless and not being able to do anything right came creeping back.

This fall, my sanity came in the form of Youth Specialties (YS). In September, I flew to LA, relieved to be away from metrology for almost a week. I think I'd been in LA for an hour when Lilly told me that I had to do something, that I couldn't stay where I was forever, that I was wasting my God-given talents, abilities and passions. Then I went to work on the prayer chapel with Archie, and I felt alive again for the first time in almost a year. LA was hard work and long days and way too hot, but I was alive again. I didn't even mind doing all the schlepping and running errands and spending 5 hours searching for Lilly's boxes :) Larry, Lilly, Jeannie, Archie and Libby all challenged me at some point during that convention: You are not a metrologist. God has bigger plans for you. Spend the next month waiting and listening and see what God has in store for you.

So I returned home for another month of metrology, waiting and listening. I had hope that an end might be in sight. I listened and watched and waited. The first week I was home, Shawn sent me the playlist for that Sunday. We would be singing "Voice of Truth" and it rang true with my soul. I was encouraged. It seemed like that entire month, God kept encouraging me and speaking to me: the songs at church, times of silence, a comment from one of the guys I played with, the prayers of the praise team when we gathered, Shawn seeing through my "it's OK facade" and taking the time to really listen and be present with me, the stuff I was reading, texts and messages from friends... everything. In October, I was sitting in the roller rink at Titusville (which is where we have church there) when I clearly heard "I know your name. I see each tear that falls, and I hear your cries. I haven't forgotten about you." It was during a moment of silence before Cliff started to pray, and I hadn't been the least bit focused on what was going on in my life at the moment, so it kind of startled me. Still it was reassuring to know I wasn't forgotten. The next time I played, this song showed up on the song list with almost the identical words (a song I hadn't know prior to this) and was a great encouragement as well. And then I got to fly off to Cincy to do YS again!

What I didn't know that Sunday morning in the roller rink was that God was going to be completely and strangely silent after that. I did the YS Cincy thing. There were some amazing things that happened during that convention - conversations with Eli and with a lady in the elevator, but personally, I wasn't "hearing" anything. Still, it was good to be with Lilly, Archie, Mike and Libby again. Plus, I got to know Michael, Mark and Kelly at this convention. AND, in the midst of the YS struggles at the time, there was something encouraging and hopeful building. I hoped that something was coming in my life as well.

Atlanta was bittersweet. I loved hanging out with Lilly, Archie, Mike and "the boys" (as Lilly and I began to refer to the Novelli's and Kelly). It was good for me to be around people who believed in me and encouraged me. In getting to know Lilly better in LA, some of my creative and experiential talents were discovered, so I was able to teach in Cincy and Atlanta as well as create. The Imaginative Prayer session in Atlanta was absolutely amazing! I could actually stand in the front of the room and see God working in the people's lives as I watched. In that sense, I knew that Jesus was still present with me, but the silence continued. Still, being with Lilly, Archie, Mike, Michael, Kelly, Mark, Jim Hancock and some of the convention attendees gave me hope as I headed home. I even got to talk to Stephen for almost an hour as I waited at the airport (via phone), and I felt much better as I faced life back in PA.

Filled with possibilities and knowing that I needed to do something to keep creating, I approached some people at church about creating experiences for them... for free. I was turned down (officially, I was put off until "later", but it sure felt like being turned down). I finally had that conversation about doing what I needed to do for me with my folks. They said they understood, but the nagging and negativity got ractched up a notch. As we approached Christmas, which is usually my favorite time of the year, I started getting rejection notices from some of the places I had applied and the rest were noncommunicative (is that even a word?) I was told I needed to switch to second shift at work, which meant that I could no longer go to Wednesday night rehearsals at church. I was looking forward to seeing "the boys" and some of my LP friends, and maybe even touching base with Andrew Marin, during a trip to Chicago, but the plans for that trip fell through. Christmas greetings from some of the people I considered friends in Olean arrived containing phrases like "I'm glad that you found a job that suits you better" and "God will bless you now that you've found your true call." Throughout the Christmas season I listened intently and tried to sense the wonder and joy of the season, but now it seemed that even Jesus' presence was hiding from me.

The first of the year brought tons of snow - something that usually brings me much joy and just screams the presence of Jesus to me. But for me - no joy, no wonder, no sense of Jesus. My folks left for Florida, leaving me space and quiet for contemplative practices - still no sense of Jesus. I hadn't journalled for awhile, so I pulled that out - no Jesus. I began reading during my "lunch" break at work each night - no Jesus. The music from church - no Jesus. Even listening to Stephen's prayer chants - no Jesus. Someone from my ministry team in DuBois started facebooking me, and the conversation quickly turned to "just drink the Kool-aid." I can't do it, and somehow I don't think I'll find Jesus there anyway. The church has graciously allowed me to continue playing (well, Shawn has) but I miss the community from the rehearsals. And recently I was pushed by someone in that church to take their classes (kind of like membership classes only more along the old Saddleback 4 bases model) because "you've obviously landed here and will be staying with us." The conversation continued with the idea that this life is what God has for me, and so I should just accept it and jump through all the church's hoops.

I spent all last week trying to sift through all the voices. My folks called and discouraged me twice, I got emails trying to guilt me into a few things that I knew I couldn't - or shouldn't - get involved in. The one friend that I thought would follow through on a previous conversation (that might actually be positive for me) didn't call and didn't return my call. Even some of the voices at work played into the "you're going to be here forever" vibe. But in the midst of all that, I was listening to my iPod to kill time while I was on a machine at work and Stephen's Take Me to My Lord caught my attention. The idea to ask all of you to do that for me began to grow, and that's how we got here. I can't walk away from my faith or Jesus, but I can't seem to find either of them right now. So I've asked all of you to help.

This would be a good time to give some insight, humor, sarcasm, truth, whatever... being silent at this point may just push me over the edge...

P.S. For those who don't know me well enough... be assured that, although I FEEL abandoned by Jesus at this point, I KNOW that isn't true.  Just didn't want you to panic and think you had to convince me that I had become an atheist. :)

Where I've Been

First of all, let me say thank you.  You have no idea how grateful I am that you have agreed to journey with me.  Regardless of where this leads me, I am so appreciative of you!  So let's get started... first the background (and I apologize that I feel the need for this to be so long).

Childhood Faith: I grew up in a pretty conservative, very traditional church.  I was taught things like don't ask questions and women can only do these ministries: music, teach Sunday School, help in the kitchen, lead a women's bible study or be the pastor's wife.  Those rules aside, I had some pretty awesome influences in my life growing up.  When I started getting kicked out of Sunday School on a regular basis for asking questions (see, even then I didn't follow the rules very well), the pastor was great at keeping me out of trouble with my mom and helping me to see that it was important that my faith became my own instead of just parroting the faith of others.  A number of the older ladies taught me valuable life skills, shared their wisdom and taught me teamwork and compassion.  I look back on most of this church experience as being full of people who encouraged me and loved me.

Childhood home:  Again, I had it pretty good.  But... I am adopted, and my brother is not.  That caused several issues and left me feeling like I never quite belonged (I felt loved; I just didn't fit).  The differences between me and the rest of my family are the primary source behind my parents' constant desire to make me be more like them.  Let me reiterate that I had a pretty good childhood and was always loved!  But I was/am never quite good enough to gain acceptance in my family.  My grades, my activities, my level of skill in sports and music, my choice of college, my choice of career, etc. never quite measure up.  This is a big factor in the voices I'm still hearing.  My folks have been supportive financially through all of this (when I needed some assistance), but whatever job I'm working, whatever I do around the house, whatever I say/do... still isn't good enough, and they constantly remind me of that.

College:  I had an awesome college experience!  Really the only thing you need to know from this era is that it is when I was first challenged to really think for myself and it was the first time that my God questions were encouraged (not necessarily answered, but encouraged).  It is also when Dr. Bill Moulder challenged me to listen for the call of God on my life and to think about youth ministry as a viable option.  Rick Dunn also challenged me to test that call, which I did over the next 10 years of my life, before finally "caving in" to youth ministry.

Teaching: After college, I went back to Maplewood High School - my alma mater - to teach general music and choir.  I loved the interaction with and the challenge of the students, but I struggled with the restrictions placed on us by the administration.  I had real connection with several students, and I'd like to think that I actually influenced their lives for the better, but I had to be strangely silent on the things that really mattered - like Jesus.  Everything changed for me when students with whom I had contact almost daily (between class and coaching) were killed in a car crash.  I stood in front of one of the mothers as she said, "I know that you go to church and I just need to know: Is there any hope that my son knew your Jesus?  Is there any hope that everything is OK for him now?"  Almost 5 years of daily contact, and I had let my fears of losing my job keep me from ever mentioning Jesus.  That combined with not ever being able to gain the favor of the administration (even with my involvement in sports, the "arts" part of me pretty much guaranteed my estrangement), led to serious consideration of that persistent knocking I had been hearing since my sophomore year of college.

Meadville church:  The last three years I taught, I was involved at a church in the Meadville area.  It was the first place where I could truly be myself and they still loved me.  (Let me clarify that I had that sense of belonging in college, but I was still trying to figure out who I was, so it was different).  I served as part of the youth minstry team and the praise team.  Gregg mentored me in both areas and was well aware that I would end up in full-time ministry long before I was.  This church encouraged me, challenged me, loved me, trained me and commissioned me when I finally accepted the call to full-time ministry.  This is the church that keeps welcoming me back and helps me heal.  Many of the people have changed, but I always find this to be a place of grace.  It is far from perfect, but this church gives me hope that the church (in general) can be redeemed.

DuBois: This was my first full-time ministry opportunity.  It is also the church that I now affectionately call "the church from hell."  I was used and abused here - literally.  I was manipulated into working 80+ hour work weeks (every week) because "it was for the Lord."  I was cut off from relationships and voices that I needed in my life.  I was told that I didn't pray, worship, teach, lead, love ... the right way.  I have since seen many parallels between how I was treated and the abuse that many face in a marriage relationship.  I understand why it is so hard for women to leave abusive husbands.  It didn't take long for me to believe the lies I was being told.  I believed no one else would ever consider hiring me for ministry.  I believed that God was disappointed in me.  I believed that I was worthless, never doing anything right (although you can see how my parents' voices played into this as well).  In fact, I was even told by the pastor (after a 90+ hour work week) that I wasn't working hard enough or getting enough results.  He ended that conversation by refering to a book we were reading as a staff and saying "You know, we read about Billy Graham's team retiring to the same area because they loved each other so much.  Well, right now, I'm not even sure I want you to be a part of my team, let alone wanting to be with you forever."  By the time I took my final stand (and was promptly fired), I was battered and spent emotionally, socially, mentally and spiritually.  The way things ended cost me everything: my job, most of my friends, my home, a dating relationship, and realistically my faith.  I now refer to this destruction as when Jesus got a hold of my life and ruined it (as Mike Yaconelli would say) - more on that later.  When I was fired, I was blackmailed.  I was told that they would continue to pay my salary and insurance for 3 months as long as I had no further contact with students, people from the church or anyone who may someday go to the church.  A few weeks after I was fired, I was even told that in order to keep receiving the "compensation", I would have to go to the grocery store late at night to avoid running into people who may ask questions.

DuBois redemption:  There were a few things that redeemed that DuBois church experience for me.  The first was a few relationships:  Joel and Kim, Judd and Jess - amazing people that I wish I had more contact with, but who are still able to be a part of my life.  And Glenn.  There was something special about that friendship.  We struggled through life together and found that we had many life parallels.  Glenn was the first person that I could be totally honest with and not fear repercussions.  He allowed me to question everything without trying to give me all the answers.  The pastor tried to destroy this relationship, but Glenn and his family wouldn't let that happen.  Glenn, more than anyone else in my life, taught me how to be a friend and how to listen with the heart.  The other redeeming factor in DuBois (thanks to Glenn) was contemplative prayer.  Glenn arranged for me to attend the Sabbath retreat that changed everything for me.

Sabbath: That's where I first met Larry, Stephen, Beth and Jeannie.  It's where I was finally able to see the truth of what was happening at DuBois.  It's where Jesus got a hold of my life and started ruining it.  And now, I wouldn't trade that "ruining" for anything.  It's where I found the courage to stand up for myself.  It's where the seed of truth that I am the beloved of God was planted.  The faith that I had at the time couldn't stand up to what I was about to face in DuBois, but Jesus pretty much turned that faith upside down and provided me with the resources to rebuild it over the next few years.  Contemplative prayer, creative prayer, and listening became vital to me.  And though I didn't believe them at the time, the final words Jesus spoke to me (via Mike Yaconelli) at that retreat have continued to be a constant source of encouragement and wonder.

LaPorte: This was rebuilding.  The ups and downs don't really matter.  The specifics don't really matter.  What does matter is that Doug (the pastor) allowed/gave me the space, resources and time I needed to heal.  I was given freedom to create what I was feeling God leading me to do. I was free to think for myself, to question, to grow.  Over time, I was able to establish amazing and healthy relationships - for which I will always be grateful.  I was challenged to do new things -like tech support, preaching and different approaches to ministry.  I was also free to develop T.A.G. (Time Alone with God), encouraged to take time for my personal relationship with Jesus, allowed some extra leeway to spend time with my family (which was needed since they were 6 hours away), encouraged to make connections with the people that I now consider my "YS family" and was actually appreciated and thanked for my contributions there.  Again, this church was far from perfect, but it gave me hope for the church (in general).  It also ruined the traditional youth ministry models for me.

Olean: In the midst of the LP experience, my dad had a serious accident and my grandmother died.  I was feeling needed closer to home.  Realistically, my folks only need help with a few things - basically two or three weekends a year - but I felt compelled to head closer to home.  A number of things happend in LaPorte to signal the end of my time there (although none of them were directly related to me and I could have stayed).  The Olean opportunity came up in the midst of that, and for some reason God wanted me there.  From almost the very beginning, I knew something wasn't right.  Although I had been told they wanted spiritual formation developed from a social youth ministry; they didn't.  They told me they wanted me to develop the contemplative and experential worship options of the church.  In the end I was "too contemplative."  They said they wanted someone with some emerging church connections/philosophy because they were reinventing.  In the end I was "too emergent."  They wanted me to develop relationships and connections with people like Tony Jones and Mark Yaconelli and my other YS friends, but in the end they found those people/relationships very threatening.  Oh yeah, and they had secretly been interviewing and lining up a "friend" of mine to come in and take the position as soon as I was out of the way.  (That backfired because when I called Eric to tell him what happened, he freaked out and refused to take the position.  He'd been told I was leaving voluntarily.)

Olean fallout: The real key to the Olean experience was that I was misled all along.  They basically left me with no compensation other than the required 2 weeks pay, and everything happened so quickly while people were away for spring break, so there was very little closure there.  Despite all that, I was OK with not being there anymore.  I wasn't nearly as hurt as I thought I should have been.  I was angry though.  When they fired me (with no warning after just shy of 7 months), they told me that they didn't think I should be in youth ministry and maybe not in ministry at all.  They refused to give me a reference for a future job, and the only other compensation they offered was to pay for me to drive 4 hours to sit with a "Christian career counselor" for an hour.  (I declined and talked them into giving me the money to pay for the flights to all 3 YS conventions instead!) And then they told me that they knew me better than I know myself.  It was that final statement, more than anything else, that made me angry.  I hadn't spent any time with these people and I certainly hadn't let them into my life yet, and they thought they knew me?  In case you haven't noticed, it takes me some time to trust people enough to let them in beyond the surface of my life.

Since Olean:So I moved home - into a single bedroom that I have to share with my dad's hunting equipment. I put the house up for sale (that would be 2 up for sale), moved all my stuff into an 8 x 10 storage room, and started doing whatever I could for work...  At first I delivered flowers a few days a week while I looked for other opportunities. I was limited by the area because my folks made me promise I wouldn't move away. After all, I had moved back this way for them, right? But it didn't take long for me to remember why I struggled with my relationships with them so much when I lived at home. The disapproval and guilt-motivation tactics began flowing freely again. I liked my job, but I was only making a few hundred dollars a month, and that business was slowly headed under.  So, I got talked into insurance. I studied every spare moment for 10 days and passed my licensing exam. A semi-local company put me on their staff, and I began another chapter of failure. It turns out that I'm too honest to sell insurance. I was primarily selling medicare supplements to 65 and older. Once I didn't have to travel hundreds of miles a day to meet with other agents and travel with them, I enjoyed meeting with people and helping them find the best option for their insurance. Unfortunately, in an economically depressed area, during an economic depression, and getting lower income leads, that rarely was the kind of insurance we had to offer. I helped people get into state-funded prescription programs and assisted med. sups. Needless to say, I didn't survive in that business too long. It ended up costing me over $2500 instead of actually making any money. And the company has a no compete clause, so I couldn't find another agency that might appreciate my efforts.  A family friend offered me a job at his company, which is where I am now. I'm officially a metrologist. Don't worry, I had no idea what that was either - until I started working there. Basically, I measure parts to make sure they fit the print specifications before the manufacturer makes a ton of things that don't work the way they're supposed to. It's still a foreign language to me. I've learned quite a bit, but I still leave work every day feeling like a complete idiot, and now that I have been switched to second shift, I work from 3 PM - 1 AM, which means that I don't get to see friends or participate in things as I would like.

Ok, that should put everyone up to speed.  I'll be posting again shortly to tell you where I am now and what led to the need to ask you all for help.

Take Me To My Lord

As usual, someone else has said it better...


Is it fair? Can I ask?
I need some help this once.
Life has treated me hard.
I fear I'm burden to everyone.

Take me to my Lord, O brothers of mine.
I know that my faith will heal me.
My legs won't carry me that far,
But you - with your love - I know you will. I know you will.

I have waited so long.
This man is more than a man.
If I'm seen in the flesh, such tears of joy will be my thanks to you.

Take me to my Lord, O sisters of mine.
I know that my faith will heal me.
My legs won't carry me that far,
But you - with your love -I know you will. I know you will.
Bring me there.
My own legs will carry me home.
Bring me there, bring me there.
My own legs will carry me home.
I know they will.

Is it fair? Can I ask?
I need some help this once.
I have faith in my Lord, and also I have faith in you, my friends.

Take me to my Lord, O brothers of mine.
I know that my faith will heal me.
My legs won't carry me that far
But you - with your love - I know you will.
Take me to my Lord, O sisters of mine.
I know that my faith will heal me.
My legs won't carry me that far
But you - with your love - I know you will.
I know you will. -Stephen Iverson


OK, so here's the deal. Most of you know that I've been struggling for the last 10 months, and at this point, I'm feeling pretty beat up and alone. Most of this is due to the voices (don't worry, they're real people) in my life for the majority of this time. The problem is that I can't seem to find Jesus or the voice of truth in the chaos that is my life. I've tried all the things that I know to do - all the things that have worked for me in the past - to no avail. So I'm hoping that some of you will be willing to "listen" and, through your wisdom and prayers, to help me find that precious voice again.


It's going to take time. Some of you haven't know me long/well enough to know the history and the reasons for getting to this point, so I'll have to do some backtracking to fill that in. I apologize ahead of time to those who already know those stories, and I give you permission to skip over them. My hope is that, in the sharing of where I've been and where I am, I'll find some clarity, and that you (meaning those who choose to accept this mission) will be able to speak truth, challenge and love into my life at a time when there aren't too many voices doing that for me.


So, I'm only posting this link as a broad invitation. For those who are willing to "take me to my Lord," please let me know. Once I know who's on this journey with me, I'll send those people a facebook group message or email (depending on where you are technology-wise) so that everyone can see the postings, contribute and see where this leads me.


And Stephen, whether you participate in this discussion or not, thanks for being a part of the journey through your music. It's been one of the few voices of truth that I've had over the last few months.