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. :)