Jodi's Journey

Tangible Presence

2010-05-14T23:06:00.000-04:00

First of all, let me apologize to those who haven't been along for the journey. Suffice it to say that it's been rough. Still, I felt compelled to put this out there for anyone who wanted to read it. Maybe it will bring you hope as well.

For those who have been walking with me through the waiting, I wanted to share with you what's been happening. The best way to catch you up is to share what I wrote in my prayer journal this evening:

Jesus, it's so good to be with you. I've missed you! Over the last few weeks, especially when I've been caching, I've sensed you, but today, your presence has been tangible, and it has given me hope.

Two weeks ago, I was drawn to Jeremiah 29:11-14. It's funny because I've done retreats and lots of teaching on this passage, but it's been awhile since I've read this section of the Bible. This passage has been on my mind constantly ever since: I'll show up and take care of you as I promised and bring you back home. I know what I'm doing. I have it all planned out - plans to take care of you, not abandon you, plans to give you the future you hope for. When you call on me, when you come and pray to me, I'll listen. When you come looking for me, you'll find me. Yes, when you get serious about finding me and want it more than anything else, I'll make sure you won't be disappointed. GOD's Decree. I'll turn things around for you. I'll bring you back from all the countries into which I drove you - GOD's Decree - bring you home to the place from which I sent you off into exile. You can count on it.

Jesus, I feel like I've been in exile since I left LaPorte. But the "home" isn't an actual location for me, is it? It's your call on my life that is home. I've holding on to this promise because I believe it is your personal promise to me for this time in my life. But I've also been waiting around for you to show up. It wasn't until 2 weeks ago or so that I actually began to seek you, to ask once more for the desire to want you more than anything else - including the "escape plan".

Something happened in the car today, and that desire for you above all else came flooding back. As I sang and praised you and trusted in your promises, I became more and more aware of your presence.

I'm in Mentor, OH for an interview tomorrow. I think I like this church, but I don't know if this is where you want me. Jesus, whatever you want, wherever you want... jut make it clear to us all. I'm ready to come home. I'd like to think this is it, but I'll trust you.

Because of Jeremiah 29, Michael Card's song "I Will Bring You Home" has been playing as a promise in my head lately as well: Though you are homeless, though you're alone, I will be your home. Whatever's the matter, whatever's been done. I will be home. I will be your home. I will be your home. In this fearful, fallen place, I will be your home. When time reaches fullness, when I move my hand, I will bring you home. Home to your own place in a beautiful land. I will bring our home. I will bring you home. I will bring you home. From this fearful, fallen place, I will bring you home.

Tonight, I sat watching the sunset over Lake Erie, and I was reminded of that night before the LaPorte interview when I sat on Center Beach watching the sunset over Lake Michigan. I had a lot of garbage to sift through that night, but there was something healing and calming about that moment. I felt that again tonight.

As I sat rocking in the swing/bench, listening to the waves, watching the sunset and just enjoying your presence, the song started playing in my head again... I will bring you home. I will bring you home. From this fearful, fallen place, I will bring you home. I will be your home.

I don't know if that means I'll be serving you in Mentor, but I do know that I can trust you to fulfill your promise to me - that I won't be at GD&T forever, that in the meantime, you are my home and you are enough.

Geocaching

2010-04-25T21:02:00.000-04:00

Ok, so I had three different people ask me about geocaching today. I didn't have time to explain at church, and it would take too much space on facebook, so here's the basics...

Geocaching started in 2000 when the military released satellites for private use. A former military man set up caches for his friends on his land. They had so much fun, that they began hiding the caches all over the state of Washington. It didn't take long for the idea to spread, and now there are caches in every state of the US and in most countries around the world.

Caches are little "treasures" hidden in the world all around you. You've probably walked by several of them without knowing they are there. You use a hand held GPS system (not the kind that you use to drive around in your car) to find the caches based on their coordinates. The coordinates can be found at geocaching.com - the most popular site for geocachers. The coordinates are the latitude and longitude for the exact position of the cache.

Caches come in all shapes and sizes. Nanos are very small - often just big enough to roll up a small piece of paper. Micros are a bit bigger - often a 35 mm film canister or something similar in size. Smalls are peanutbutter jar sized. Regular is often an ammo can, but can also be as large as you wish.

Caches must contain a log book for cachers to sign. By the cacher code, you cannot claim finding a cache unless you have signed the log book for that cache. Caches that are large enough often contain a writing utensil and small toys. Dollar store toys, Happy Meal toys, bouncy balls, whistles, decks of cards, hot wheels, baseball cards, wet wipes, mosquito repellant, hand sanitizer and maps are the most common items found in caches, which makes caching great for kids! In larger caches, stuffed animals, coloring books, and educational materials are often found as well. The cacher code states that you may take an item from the cache, but you must leave something of equal or greater value.

Caches also contain "travel bugs" (sometimes). Travel bugs are tags that are attached to an item with a special code so that you can track the item as it passes from cache to cache. Many travel bugs have specific goals such as traveling to all 50 states or returning home from a distant land. I've even seen grandchildren pass school pictures to the grandparents 5 states away via caches!

If you're interested in experiencing goecaching, I'd be happy to introduce you!

A New Perspective of the Cross

2010-04-03T01:44:00.000-04:00

All week long, a Stephen Iverson prayer chant has been running through my head:

Can I take this weight from my shoulders, Lord, and leave it here at the foot of the cross?

So I began thinking about the cross...

It's Holy Week, so there's been a lot of talk about Jesus dying on the cross for our sins. I'm not diminishing his sacrifice or the love that led him to the cross for me, for you, for all. But I needed to take it further - or in a different direction - this year.

"Sin" is an archery term. It means "to miss the mark" or "to miss the target." Usually when we hear the word "sin", we think of things that we've done wrong - like lying or cheating or gossip. Some have a grading system for sin where lying isn't as bad as murder. But the truth of the matter is that sin is sin. It doesn't really matter what "degree" or what the sin.

But if sin means missing the mark, then isn't everything that isn't as God intended it to be sin? When I'm not my true self - the person God created me to be - isn't that sin? If I do something out of character for me because I want to impress someone or please someone, isn't that sin? When I see something that is out of sync in nature, isn't that sin? Isn't poverty and injustice sin? Anything and everything that is broken and fallen in our world is sin -not just the things that we would deem as "bad."

When I see the brokenness in the world around me and experience that brokenness in my own life, it weighs me down. It often seems so overwhelming. There doesn't seem any possibility of restoration...

Yet, it's not up to me to restore the world. It's not even up to me to restore my own soul. It is impossible for me to do anything about all this brokenness and sin. Jesus died on the cross for all sin - to redeem and restore everything that is broken and out of sync with God. My job is simply to take the weight of the world (or at least what I see and know of the world) and to leave it at the cross, to leave it with Jesus. In doing so, I accept what Jesus did on the cross - not only for me, but for the world. In doing so, I trust Jesus with everything that is wrong and dark in this world. I trust that on Easter, when we celebrate the resurrection, I can also celebrate the restoration that is taking place bit by bit because of the love and sacrifice of Jesus on the cross. In leaving the weight of the world at the foot of the cross, I also can celebrate in the life of the resurrection - life that is within me and that leads me to bring a little bit more life, hope and restoration to my corner of the world each day.

So on this Good Friday and throughout the day on Holy Saturday as we wait to celebrate the resurrection, linger a bit at the foot of the cross or at the tomb. Consider all that is broken, and allow yourself to admit your brokenness and the brokenness in the world around you. Take it to Jesus and leave it at the foot of the cross where Jesus' blood can wash over it. And trust that Jesus will be proclaimed risen on Sunday - risen and actively at work in our lives and in our world to restore what is to what was meant to be and what will one day be again.

Update

2010-04-03T01:05:00.000-04:00

I know I haven't posted in quite a while. I also know that my last post freaked some of you out. I'd apologize for that except that I'm not a bit sorry that I posted it...

Something happened when I sent that. For those that know me well, you know how difficult it was for me to be that vulnerable, and I guess I was hoping for some kind if insightful response that would make everything OK. That miracle response never came, but something changed for me after I posted that. A bit of hope began stirring deep within me.

Nothing in my situation changed, but slowly something has changed - perhaps it's just me. Little things have encouraged me along the way - an email from Stephen, a phone call from Lilly, a few minutes to sit and talk with Shawn, lunch with Randy, a snowstorm that left everything sparkling like diamonds, a week of sunshine and warm weather, encouragement from Mike, some reinforcement from Jack, the possibility of working for YouthWorks - even if it's only for the summer...

So, I don't have anything specific or any great revelation, but I'm OK for now. I haven't clearly heard Jesus speak to me or had the same sense of his presence that I've often had in the past, but all of these little things add up. I have a feeling that someday I'll be having a conversation about this phase of the journey with Jesus, and he'll point to Stephen's emails, Lilly's calls, Jack's comment, that lunch with Randy, Shawn's allowing me to continue to play and lead worship... and he'll say, "See, I hadn't abandoned you. I was there all along."

To those who carried me along on your prayers when I couldn't seem to pray myself, to those who gave words to my struggles when I couldn't find the words, to those who simple listened, to those who cried with me, to those who hoped and believed enough for both of us... thank you. I am so blessed to have friends such as you, and I thank you for "taking me to my Lord."

I think the rest is up to me - and Jesus.

Brutal Honesty

2010-02-19T12:24:00.000-05:00

First of all, please read the WHOLE thing. I know it's long, but it's the best snapshot of what's been going on with me that I can give you. Second, know that this is the brutal, honest truth about where I've been this week. There is no polishing or trying to put a positive spin on things to make us all feel better. Just pure honesty from this week's journey. Finally, this is a HUGE RISK for me as I'm not usually this completely vulnerable with people - and for some of you this will be a first. Please, at least, let me know that you've read it - a phone call, email, FB message, or blog comment - however you wish. For some reason, I need to know to whom I've really bared my soul.

OK, so the last week or so has been pretty rough. I told Shawn and Stephen on Sunday that I couldn't stop "the bleeding" (or the tears - which is VERY unusual for me). Usually a few tears welling up is as emotional as I get - at least in public. Overwhelming floods of tears for days on end is not normally my thing. I think the best way to share where I've been on this part of the journey is to share bits of my journaling - which are bits of my prayers - with you:

From 2/14: I feel so alone. And I feel selfish and guilty for being so emotional and teary. What right do I have to feel this way? ... My basic needs are being met. What right do I have to feel so beaten and bruised? ... The thing is that I miss you, Jesus. I can't deal with all of this without you. I want to trust that you are good, that there is a purpose for all of this, that I'm not disappointing you, that you do carrying me close to your heart. But none of that seems true right now. ... So I'm alone again. Trapped in a life that seems like prison. ... I don't know how to stop the bleeding. I don't think I can keep doing life this way. I need you, Jesus. I need to hear your voice. I need to feel your presence. I need hope.

From 2/17 (or actually early Thursday morning): So at work for the past 2 nights, I have been thinking about all this that's going on and why you would abandon me. Abandonment or punishment are the only things that make sense because if this is anything else, then everything I believe about you is wrong. And though I believe you let us suffer the consequences of our choices, I don't believe you set out to punish us, so I guess you have abandoned me. Which still violates promises that I have believed, things that I have thought to be true about you.

Then I started thinking about fear. When you turned my world and my faith upside down after DuBois, there was a lot of fear involved. So what am I afraid of this time? ... I'm afraid you do want me to stay here forever. I'm afraid that this is all that there is for the rest of my life. I'm afraid that you want to take my dreams and my passions away from me - the last bits of hope I have to hold on to.

You've taken everything else. Why not? ... And if I have to live a life separated from my call, from what I love? It's like dying every day. I can't see a way out. At what point does the body finally give out as well? At this point, I'd welcome death. I've thought so much about gunning my car at the bottom of Mullen instead of hitting the brakes. But in reality, I would just smash into the guard rail and wreck my car. I can't actually commit suicide. It leaves too much pain behind, and I would never do that. I can't even bear the thought of what that would do to some of the people I love the most. ...

I followed the link to Donald Miller's blog from Sunday. It was about plowing the field and taking care of your own farm. I get that. But he kept talking about not moving to a bigger field if you are where you are supposed to be, doing what you love. I don't think either is true of me right now.

So now what? If it's true that you've been watching me fall apart, what else is there to break? My soul, my heart, my dreams - everything is in shambles. When does the starting to "be made whole again" part happen? Or do I just become a casualty?

If it would help, I'd give you what I love, but I don't even have those opportunities to give right now. And if you want me to give up any semblance of dreaming, well... that's all the hope I have right now. It's the only thing that is keeping me going. ... But if that's what you want, you can have it.

From 2/19: Even after 2 relatively sleepless nights, I only managed to get 2 hours of sleep before I woke and felt compelled to get up and journal this morning. ...

This week has been rough. The bleeding that started Saturday night just continued. I cried all day Sunday, and tears kept springing up at the most inopportune times during the week. Tears, aching, that deep longing, complete despair - all were present throughout the week. But despite being exhausted today, something has changed. The bleeding has stopped. Something happened when I had it out with you on Wednesday night/Thursday morning. First the tears stopped. I actually went all day yesterday without bursting into sobs. Then I actually drove to and from work last night without looking for a steep bank with no guard rail. And now, the slightest bit of relief is allowing me to write/pray with some hope.

Is that you, Jesus? Was it that you just wanted me to let go of my dreams and what I love? I did that in a fit of sarcasm, fear, anger and hopelessness - desperate to stop the pain, but was it what you've wanted from me all along?

Now what? Do I simply become content with metrology, Meadville, this isolated life? Or do you have something better for me now that I truly have nothing left to call "mine"? ...

For the first time in a longtime, I can actually say and mean this: Whatever you want, wherever you lead, I will follow. I do trust you. I trust that you are good, merciful, loving and have my best interests at heart. I trust that you haven't forgotten about me, that you still know my name, that you've not only seen all the tears, but that you've sobbed and ached right alongside me. I trust that one day I will feel your presence and hear your voice again, that you are leading me somewhere, that you will see me made whole again, that I am still your beloved, that you still love me, still have called me. And I have hope that you are still proud to be my Savior.

Focal Points of Frustration?

2010-02-14T13:26:00.000-05:00

Shawn has noticed a pattern in my life - a pattern that goes way back to jr. high and high school. He mentioned it to me last week, and I've spent quite a bit of time this week thinking about his observation that it seems that I always have someone who is the "focal point of my frustrations."

Like most people, lots of things people do frustrate me. I get frustrated when people tell me that what I've experienced or what I know to be true is wrong. I get frustrated when people pretend all the time. I get frustrated when someone holds me back from something I really want to do. But these are usually one-time frustrations. I get upset in the moment, let it go, and move on. When these kinds of things happen, it's not lasting, and I usually can continue to treat the people the same way I did prior to the frustration with no problem.

But Shawn was right - almost. I don't ALWAYS have someone who becomes the focus of all my frustrations, but it is does occur with some frequency. I made a list of all the people in my life about whom I could remember having this feeling. It took several days to work through my feelings and potential reasons for my feelings about these people, but finally a single pattern was revealed.

Apparently I have a problem with authority. I don't like people telling me what to do, how to do it or not to do something. I should clarify that I don't have a problem with all authority. There have been a number of teachers, coaches, principals, pastors, etc. who have had authority over me, and I've accepted their leadership with no problem. So what's the difference between these people and the ones who become the focus of all my antagonism and opposition?

It comes down to trust. At the moment, Shawn is in a leadership position over me. But I trust Shawn. I understand what he is trying to do. I want to support Shawn in those efforts, and, even if I don't agree with him about something, I trust that Shawn has my best interests (and the interests of those he serves) at heart. So I will do what Shawn asks of me without complaining or fighting him. Doug (former senior pastor) was obviously in authority over me. But Doug always had my back, even when we didn't agree. I didn't always agree with Doug, but I trusted him. I knew that Doug wanted what was best for me, for my students, and for the church, so when he asked me to do something, I did it without questioning him. These are just a few examples. The people who have had authority over me but who have demonstrated a desire to make decisions and do what is best for the people in their care have always had my respect, my trust, my loyalty.

But I've had other people in authority over me (or people I love) who haven't earned my respect, my trust, my loyalty or anything other than my frustration, antagonism, anger and sometimes blatant disregard for anything they have to offer. They have all done things that have hurt me, or worse, hurt the people I care about the most. I have seen them act in such a way as to abuse their power, their position, or their authority. I feel completely powerless to stop them, to correct the situation, to do anything about the damage that they are doing to people. I hate that these people are often undermining my efforts to help people, to teach my students, to point people to Jesus. So I fight back. And with me, it's all or nothing, so I can't accept even the good things that these people are trying to do.

And yet, perhaps in all this fighting back, I've only been doing more damage to my own soul. Dave doesn't care what he did to me, to my students, to my youth team. It hasn't bothered him one bit over the last 7 years. I'm sure that Henegan or Reyer haven't had a second thought about everything that happened at Maplewood. I'm pretty sure that none of the people who have been the "focal point of my frustrations" - as Shawn so gently put it - have lost one second of sleep.

So who are they really hurting? I've seen the life impact some of these people have had on the people I care about, and I let that hurt and anger bury itself deep within me - at least until I can escape the ramifications of being under their authority. Justified or not, this only hurts me. It takes time to heal from these deeply buried toxins, and I often think I've forgiven and moved on only to have everything surface again later. Forgiveness is a long process, and even after forgiveness has been granted, the effects of these toxins linger.

I wonder how my own actions, words, attitudes towards these authority figures has further hurt those that I love so dearly. The thought that it is my fault that some of these precious people have stepped further away from Jesus or have struggled in their own lives is devastating.

Even the midst of these situations, I have been able to recognize that eventually I will be able to forgive, to let go. Eventually, that is able to happen. It becomes part of my story, shapes the way I move forward, but I am eventually able to forgive. However, what if the people who get caught in the middle aren't able to forgive? What if their bitterness or anger over what they observed settles deep within them? What if the things I have said or done causes them to deeply resent the people who still have authority over them? What if, because of my responses, they blame God for the things that have happened to me or to them? What if my resentment of these people has filled those I love with deadly toxins from which they can't recover?

Overwhelmed

2010-02-14T00:47:00.000-05:00

As we sat and prayed with the Praise Team tonight, I was struck with an overwhelming sadness and frustration. You all know my situaiton. I'm tired of waiting. I'm tired of being alone to deal with all this (OK, not alone because you're along on the journey, but you know what I mean). I'm tired of feeling like a complete failure. I hate my job to the point that I dread going each day and actually get physically sick most days as I head out for another long, soul-crushing night of sitting in front of a machine. I miss hearing/feeling the presence of God in my life. But it seems that as much as I'm having to deal with at the moment, I'm one of the lucky ones.

Sitting around the circle are people who are dealing with major tragedies. Heartache was in abundance. Tears were near the surface for many of us, and a few spilled out despite our unwillingness to cry in that moment. There was just so much pain and frustration sitting there. It was overwhelming.

What right do I have to feel the way I do? I have a job. I'm able to cover my financial obligations at the moment. My family isn't falling apart. I have a place to live. I'm not having to mourn the death of a loved one. I have clean water to drink and food to eat. I'm not dealing with a disease. I'm just struggling with God's call on my life and his seeming lack of presence at the moment. What's the big deal?

And yet, I do feel this way. Which makes me feel selfish and a bit guilty. And I'm not sure what to do with all this.

Glimmers

2010-02-12T17:44:00.000-05:00

This may seem to be a collection of unrelated bits, but they are all connected with this struggle about ministry. Bear with me and feel free to give any insights you have to any or all of the pieces:

So for the last several weeks, I've been really questioning my call. Am I called to youth ministry? Am I called to prayer/alternate worship ministry? Am I called to ministry within a church? Am I called to any ministry at all? It has seemed that there is no hope of ever escaping the soul-crushing job that I am currently working, and I keep being told that if I would just accept that this as life, I would learn to be happy. I have to admit that if it wasn't such a struggle to get ready, go to work and sit there for 10 hours each day feeling the life and passion slowly drain from me, I would be much happier. So the questions keep resurfacing... am I called to do some sort of ministry? Can I be fulfilled/passionate/happy doing anything else? Has the ministry of which I've been apart over the last 13 years made a difference or have I been wasting my time?

Scott is an immature 20, but is a good kid. He is the only other person on the night shift with me. We don't have much in common, and our work stations are at opposite ends of the building, so we don't talk much. But Scott was faced with dealing with death for the first time this week. His grandmother had a massive stroke, the family made the decision to pull life support, they watched her die for almost a week, and the funeral was Tuesday. Scott asked me for advice on how to deal with everything, and all I could tell him was an echo of what Stephen told me a few weeks ago: Feel what you feel, and don't let anyone tell you it's wrong to feel that way. The other bit of hope I offered him was that it wouldn't always hurt as much as it does right now. Last night, he told me that he appreciated me not telling him what to feel or how to deal with everything. He also thanked me for just listening when he returned to work on Wednesday night. He said he felt better because of what I had done, and when I said I hadn't done anything, he responded "But you are here for me."

I was having a brief conversation with Shawn about the weather, and I mentioned Andrew (Marin) being stuck in D.C., which led to talking about Andrew's work. There's something about reaching out to the GLBT community that has been percolating within me for a long time. That got me thinking about an experience I had in Cincy this fall: It was early in the morning, and I was headed over to the Sanctuary space to support Lilly's effort at Morning Prayers and then have 2nd breakfast with her. I step into the elevator with a mom and a young teen boy who was excitedly talking. Being exhausted already, I made some comment about someone being way too excited for that early in the morning, and the boy looked at me said, "I've been waiting for this weekend for a long time. My mom promised me a trip to the city if I wouldn't tell my 7th grade class that I'm gay." He continued rattling on, but I was watching his mom stare at my name tag and slowly pull her son as far away from me as they could get in a small elevator. I turned my attention back to the boy, Isaac, and engaged him for the remainder of the ride to the lobby. As we exited, I started to wish them a great day, when the mom, Carolyn, put her hand on my arm to stop me. "Could we talk?" she asked as tears ran down her face.

Carolyn sent Isaac on to breakfast, and she and I spent 10-15 minutes sitting in a quiet corner of the lobby. She spilled her entire story... how she and her husband couldn't have children, how Isaac had been adopted, why they named him Isaac (after the biblical story of Isaac), how they knew early on that Isaac was different than the other boys, how Isaac proclaimed to them that he was gay in 6th grade, how their church pushed them away because everyone knew Isaac was gay, how her husband had slowly drifted away from them because he was ashamed of Isaac, how she wasn't sure if their marriage was going to survive. Again, I just listened... mostly because I didn't know what to say or how to respond to a perfect stranger spilling all these personal details. She then told me a how there had been some guys from the convention (same tags) in the elevator with them the night before. They had engaged Isaac but physically stepped back from him when Isaac said something that tipped them off to his being gay. As they exited the elevator, one of the guys said, "You should find a local church to attend. They can help you fix him." She told me that was why she was so scared and wanted Isaac away from me in the elevator. And then she thanked me for listening and told me that it was good to know that there was at least one Christian who didn't hate her because of her son or hate her son. We prayed, I gave her contact info for me and for Andrew, and she went off for her special day with her son. Most likely, I will never hear from Carolyn or Isaac again, but that encounter changed me. It made a difference for me, and hopefully it made a lasting difference for them.

I was tired and drained but wanting to spend time with an old friend last week. We were just catching up when she brought up T.A.G. Ministries (prayer/alt. worship/experiential worship). Immediately I was energized and excited. She even commented on how passionate I was as I spoke about the possibilities. The same thing happened later on when Lilly called to get a few ideas for an upcoming retreat. I was on my way to work and dragging every step of the way, but the ideas started flowing, I was all wound up, and I wished that we had more time to talk and create together.

I had a phone interview this afternoon with a church in Wilmette, IL. I was actually dreading it because the website presented the church as a "prosperity gospel" type church. The pastor confirmed that as we spoke, and he confirmed that I probably am not the person the church is looking for. That being said, he asked if he could pick my brain anyway. We talked for almost 45 minutes about being present - to God and to each other, experiential worship, contemplative prayer and prayer practices, building community, not pretending, and being willing to disrupt the status quo if God leads you in another direction. I probably won't hear from that church again, but the pastor was impressed with my honesty and my passion for not "playing church." He said that I would be an asset to the church because I wouldn't disciple students to become star atheletes and super students, but I would actually challenge them to become followers of Jesus. He actually told me that he felt convicted about how he was playing the game in order to keep this nice, wealthy, North Shore church happy, and, in turn, keep his salary coming.

So, as I'm trying to process all this, I happened to look out the window. It's been cloudy and gray all day, but in that precise moment, it started to snow those HUGE snowflakes... just slowly drifting down. Then a small ray of sun burst through the clouds and made all those big snowflakes shimmer - just for a second. It was the most beautiful thing I've seen in a very long time. And with it came the tiniest glimmer of hope...

Not "Father", but "Daddy"

2010-02-06T11:51:00.000-05:00

When I was little, I had these pajamas that said "My Heart Belongs to Daddy." I was only 2 or 3 when I received that first set of those pjs, and because I loved them so much, my mom went back and bought several pairs of them in different sizes so that I had a set of them until I was probably 7 or so. I loved those pjs because my dad and I had this little game we played everytime I wore them. I would come downstairs in my pjs, and my dad would scoop me up, hold me close and say, "Now what on earth is that on your pajamas?" I would snuggle even closer and say, "My heart belongs to Daddy." Dad would say, "And why does your heart belong to Daddy?" and I would respond, "Because my Daddy loves me." And Dad would say, "That's right. I love you and my heart belongs to you." At that point, tickles or a kiss and a good night would send me off to bed, safe and secure in the special love and bond between father and daughter.

When I was little, I knew my dad cherished me. He delighted in me. I would run to greet him when he came home from work, and he would toss me high in the air and catch me. I loved the thrill of flying through the air, but it was only because I knew I would land safely in my daddy's arms again. There was such joy for both of us in those kinds of moments.

My dad was proud of me too. I think he was more excited than I was when we discovered that I could read. He bragged to all his friends about how smart and precocious I was as a little girl. He kept a picture of me and my first fish (4 nice perch) in his wallet to show all his coworkers. He'd slip me a pack of baseball cards and tell me how proud he was of the way I helped mom around the house.

My daddy wanted to spend time with me. He would play games with me. He would take me fishing - just the two of us out in the middle of Pymatuning. He would curl up in the bean bag with me and read me stories. He was patient when teaching me things. I learned how to bottle feed a calf, and then how to get that calf to drink from a bucket. I learned how to cast a fishing line. I learned how to hit a baseball and throw properly. I learned how to batter and fry fish. I learned how to drive a tractor. Dad wanted to show me places that were special to him, so we hiked through the "Big Woods" (Allegheny National Forest) with my daddy carrying me on his shoulders when I got tired. When we took a family vacation through New England, Dad took me to the top of a cliff overlooking the ocean in Maine, and we sat and watched the sunrise together.

These are some of my best memories of childhood and of being with my daddy.

Somewhere around age 9 or 10, things started to change. My dad quit spending all that special time with me. When we did play ball in the backyard, it was because he wanted me to improve my hitting or my fielding. It became drills and demanding perfection rather than special time with daddy. We quit taking those hikes through the Big Woods. He never curled up in the bean bag with me to read or played Legos any more. We rarely went fishing alone, and if we did, he was always correcting me. I managed to catch a snag one day, and instead of patiently helping me or simply cutting the line, he ripped my favorite fishing pole out of my hands. The next thing I knew, my favorite pole and best reel were at the bottom of Lake Wilhem. I think that was the day that I knew something had changed.

Mom started referring to dad only as "your father." Interaction with him was limited as he was silent, withdrawn or angry most of the time. I kept trying to get my daddy back, or at least my daddy's attention back, but I was never quite successful. What I didn't know at the time was that his work was eating his soul (something I understand quite well now) and that he and my mom weren't getting along. "Your father" was this angry, unapproachable, demanding man who somehow made "my daddy" go away.

As I said before, I had this all out with my dad long ago. We sat in the boat one day and I told him all of this. He was upset and angry - but not at me. He later came back to me and apologized. We talked about why he had changed, how unhappy he had been, and began the process of reconciling. Now, I often call my dad "Daddy" (which freaks many people out). We like to escape to the lake early in the morning and go fishing together - just to be with each other and do something together. In the spring, he takes me out in the woods with him turkey hunting. We sit and watch the sunrise together, and we're just happy to be in the woods together once more. He goes geocaching with me, and we still cook fish together in back of the camper like we did when I was four. My daddy cherishes the time spent with me again, and we have a different "game" we play now when we talk on the phone, but it's the equivalent of those "My Heart Belongs to Daddy" pjs all over again.

But with God...? So, this week I spent some time working on thinking of God as I recalled how I felt with my daddy. God as "Father" still brings up those less than helpful images, but God as "Daddy" is good. God as "Daddy" is more inline with my images of Jesus. God as "Daddy" is my protector who cherishes me, delights in me, wants to spend time with me, wants to teach me things. It's not all warm fuzzies as there is still correction and some uncomfortable guidance involved. There's still that element of uncertainty, but thinking of God in terms of "Daddy" is a lot like flying through the air as a small child and knowing that after the adventure, I will land safely in my loving daddy's arms.

Ups and Downs

2010-02-06T01:55:00.000-05:00

I was able to actually sit down and talk with Shawn for a bit today. One of the things he asked me was how I was doing - up? down? the same?

I think that I'm "up" from the point I was two weeks ago when I sent out that first post. Though nothing has changed - and in that sense is "the same" - just knowing that you all are willing to walk with me has been encouraging. Some of your comments and suggestions have been helpful, but it's really more about knowing that I'm not having to do this part of the journey alone.

There have been "downs" as well. There was a point at work this week when I felt like my soul was literally being crushed as I sat there. It's a feeling I've had often, but this was almost a physical sensation. There are more and more days when I feel like I just can't do it one more minute, but I have no choice. Sometimes I wonder if it would just be easier to give up/give in and start to accept that this is going to be life for me. I think I'd be happier here if I could do that, but somehow I just can't.

Today was a REALLY GOOD day though. Again, nothing has changed. But today I got to spend 2 hours with Shawn. It was good to just talk. He shared some insights that will appear in the blog at a later date - once I've had time to explore them a bit more. We talked about ministry, what church should be, and how we did church/community better when we were in junior high and high school. Thinking back on our teen days, Shawn said that for all the drama, we (meaning our group of friends) really did love and care for each other. Something happened as we gathered around those cafeteria tables for lunch or to hang out before band practice, and it's one of the reasons that neither of us can settle for "playing church." It was good to be reminded of that, and, in the process, why I love working with teenagers.

Earlier in the week, I had made plans to hang out with Mary, a friend from the Meadville YM days. We ended up hanging out at her house and then heading to her church. While we were there, we ran into another friend from those days. We sat and reminisced about mission trips in "the old days" - particularly a trip to Nicaragua. We told stories and, again, it was good. Mary was one of the people there for me when I was debating going into full time ministry. She, Randy and I sat up late almost every night in Nicaragua talking about what plans God might have for the three of us. It was good to be reminded of those days and the bonds we shared as well.

Beyond that fun though, I had the chance to share with Mary a little about T.A.G. Ministries. As I talked about it, I could feel that same soul brightening feeling that I felt when I was talking to Shawn about some of my youth ministry experiences. If nothing else, it confirmed in me that I shouldn't settle for the soul crushing work of metrology. I've been sending out resumes to some churches that I have the sense would be suffocating situations- one of which I even have a phone interview with next Friday - but today also confirmed that I shouldn't settle for one of those jobs either.

Not much has changed. Tears are still near the surface and spill out at inconvenient and frequent intervals. I'm still desperate to hear - or at least sense the presence of - Jesus. I still have no clue where this phase of the journey is headed. But there is a stirring. I can listen to music again without wanting to throw my iPod under a MAC truck, and there are a few encouraging signs along the way that I haven't totally misunderstood my call, that I haven't been disappointing God, that I haven't been "wasting" my life working with teens and exploring creative and alternate forms of worship.

Disappointment or Distortion?

2010-01-29T03:50:00.000-05:00

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?

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.
"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.
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

2010-01-26T11:52:00.000-05:00

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

2010-01-24T13:10:00.001-05:00

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

2010-01-23T16:00:00.021-05:00

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

2010-01-22T09:35:00.005-05:00

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.

Waiting, Sleeping and Anticipating...Advent Thoughts

2009-11-29T17:37:00.002-05:00

Advent is the season of waiting, and that's something that our culture no longer does well. We've become a fast food culture that doesn't like to wait for anything. When we are forced to wait, we don't respond very well. Just look at the behavior of shoppers on Black Friday to see how well we've learned to be patient and wait!

Personally, I've done a lot of waiting lately - waiting for job openings and interviews, waiting until I can see my YS friends again, waiting for phone calls and texts, waiting for family, waiting in lines, waiting in airports, waiting until I have a place of my own again, waiting to see how long I'll have to wait...

Earlier today, someone asked me about an Advent prayer practice I did with Tootsie Roll pops. When I started to explain the concept of waiting to get to the center, it struck me that maybe we have the wrong idea about Advent being a season of waiting.

This sparked thinking even more about waiting. I thought about the things that I do when I am forced to wait. I play on my computer, text or call people, read, think about new ways to help people connect with God, think about things that I still need to do, and sleep.

Which sparked another idea... "while you were sleeping." Jesus was born while the residents of Bethlehem slept. They missed the whole thing. The shepherds, who were paid to stay awake to watch over the sheep, were the only ones who heard the angels proclaiming the birth of the Messiah. The people had become so tired of waiting for the Messiah to arrive that they had fallen asleep. Jesus' disciples fell asleep while they sat up waiting for Jesus to pray before his arrest, and the arrest took place while the city of Jerusalem slept. Even the resurrection took place while most of the world was still sleeping. We've been waiting so long for Jesus to establish his kingdom on earth as it is in heaven. I wonder if we've fallen asleep again and maybe missed some things along the way.

While we sleep, we miss the opportunity to make a difference in the lives of so many people. We sleep-walk past people on the street, people in our schools, people at work and people in our neighborhoods who so desperately need to experience the kingdom of God. We get so caught up in our own lives that we fail to do what we could to stop poverty and injustice. We roll over and ignore the alarms of prejudice. We become so comfortable in our sleep-living that we fail to love, and thus fail to advance the way of Jesus in any way, shape or form.

But what if Advent became a season of anticipation? What if it signified the promise that our waiting with hope and joy isn't for nothing? What if we anticipated the celebration of the birth of Christ through Advent? What if our preparations for Christmas were more about anticipating Jesus than Santa? What if we woke up from our sleeping to notice the people around us, and more importantly, loving the people around us? What if we worked to break the chains of injustice, poverty, and prejudice? What if, by our awakening from the slumber of shopping and scrambling to make preparations that won't last, we bring the anticipation and hope of the way of Jesus back into the season of Advent?

Why Can't Life Be More Like Living at a YS Convention?

2009-11-24T17:31:00.003-05:00

I've just finished the last convention of this season. Last night at Compline in the Sanctuary I had this very emotional moment where I didn't want the convention to end. Compline with Communion typically signifies the end for me, and when Mike started to prepare communion, I was overwhelmed. At first I thought it was because life isn't exactly good for me right now at home, but I quickly realized that wasn't it. I simply didn't want to leave the amazing people who have become my YS family - those who know me, allow me to be me, and love me anyway.

On the way to the airport, I had a few conversations with people who were concerned about what they convention has become or what it might become. That got me thinking about why the NYWC is so special to people, and I decided that life would be better if we could all live like we were at a YS convention.

Why? It seems that we are just better at loving each other at convention...

We share at convention. We had a ladder that Michael and Mark needed. It didn't matter that it was a little bit of an inconvenience and required some adaptation of the prayer chapel. They needed it, we had it, we shared. We give away knowledge and share our experience. Whether it's supplies, carts, food or ideas... if we have something that someone else needs, we share. Think about what would happen in our communities and churches if we shared like that! And how would the world be different if we shared our resources and made sure everyone had what they needed?
We help and serve each other at convention. We needed help getting workshops set up and torn down. Michael, Mark and Kelly helped us; we helped them. Gary showed up and offered to help set up a workshop. David showed up and packed after the workshop. Kelly walked almost a mile to pop popcorn for my session. Steve fixed our broken speakers. Holly sent us extra people to pack. Even the security guard walked through the building with me, showing me around and giving Lilly directions to the docks, finding the right people to get us carts and take our stuff to our rooms. People hold doors, help push carts, carry things out of their way, volunteer for things they'd never do at home, and go the extra mile at convention. What would happen if we willingly served each other that way in real life?
We're present with each other at convention. We take time to sit down and talk with each other. More importantly, we listen to each other. We sit with each other and pray - really pray - as in speaking to AND listening to God together. We celebrate together, and we cry together. We notice when someone is struggling and journey with them. We learn things about each other that would never come up in the casual conversation in our churches, schools and workplaces. Even in the briefest encounters, we connect with each other. Long after we leave a conversation, we remember the person's name or situation. We think about them and pray for them long after the convention is over. Whether we stay in touch or not, these people have left an imprint on our lives, and all because we are present with each other in those few moments or days when we are together.
We challenge each other to be our true selves at convention. We spark each other's creativity. We point out things in each others' lives that are keeping us from doing what we were created to do. We help each other notice patterns and passions in our lives. We encourage each other to follow our hopes, our dreams, our calls. We recognize each others' gifts, and we dream about how we could come together to do amazing things to glorify Christ. What would happen if we did this in our churches? Instead of holding people down because of their age or gender or background, what if we celebrated who people are and helped them discover who they were created to be? What if we held each other accountable to being true to ourselves and true to our calls? What if we served each other as spiritual directors and spiritual companions?
We're not afraid to admit we need help at convention. We openly weep. We tell others all the things that we've screwed up. We beg people for ideas on how to be better. We admit that we don't have all the answers. We ask people to walk with us on the journey. We quit trying to do it all ourselves, quit trying to be superheroes, quit trying to pretend that we have it all together. In those moments of honesty, when we freely ask someone to help us, we allow those around us to serve us, to be blessed by being present to us, to be stretched themselves by walking with us. Why can't we stop pretending in our churches? Why are questions and cries for help so hard, so scorned and so scarce in our home communities?

Now, I'm not naive enough to think that if we lived in convention-land all the time, everything would be perfect - or even as good as it is in convention-land. I realize that people tend to be on their best behavior for this short period of time. I also realize that one of the reasons we act this way towards each other is because we understand each other better than those outside the world of youth ministry understand us. We are also out of our home environments, often away from the stress and strain of every day life. We feel freer to take the time to be present or to go out of our way to serve someone else because we don't have to rush off to take care of the family or another youth crisis.

But I still have to believe that real life would be better if we lived more like we do in convention-land. Somehow, it reminds me of another "land" - I think Jesus called it "the kingdom" - where people share and serve and listen and challenge and love in such a way that relationships (with self, with others, with God) are restored, what is broken is healed, what is damaged or destroyed is rebuilt. The hungry are fed, the sick are tended, the homeless are sheltered, the imprisoned are freed. To me, it sounds a lot like the kind of kingdom God intended, and the kind of worship, at least according to Isaiah and Jesus, that pleases and glorifies our Creator. In fact, I think this might even be what it means to be a follower of Jesus...

Voices

2009-10-04T13:47:00.002-04:00

It's been a long time since I've blogged - mostly because my life has been in chaos, and there has been nothing worth writing about. But as the struggle has continued, I've been influenced by many voices.

This morning, at church, the pastor was speaking about the voices that are positive and speak the truth - the voices of God. It inspired me to think about all the voices in my life.

Sadly, most of the influential voices in my life at this point are negative - or not of God. It didn't take long after moving in with my folks to be reminded that nothing I do is ever good enough for them. I never seem to be able to live up to their expectations, and no matter what I've done to earn money to pay the bills, to help them or to try and move towards what God has for me, it's wrong. Then there are the echoes of the pastors who have told me that I'm not good enough, that I'm not fit for ministry, that God really doesn't want me. Add to that the voices that tell me I haven't been doing my jobs right or that I'm not good enough for those either, and the result is that I've been feeling quite alone, depressed, trapped and worthless.

But there are the other voices - the voices of truth - in my life as well. I spent last weekend in Los Angeles with my Youth Specialties friends creating and helping with the prayer spaces at the National Youth Workers' Convention there. It didn't take long for Lilly and Larry to speak the truth into my life, and when they did, it rang so much truer than the other voices in my life. There was encouragement and a sense of things being "right" when they spoke with me. Their voices didn't leave me feeling trapped and hopeless, and even the confusion and uncertainty didn't seem negative.

This morning, after being back home for a week, the voice of truth spoke to me again. The pastor's message pointed out all the negative voices in my life, but it also encouraged me with the voices of truth. After the service, one of my best friends from high school (who also is the worship pastor there), asked me a simple question: "Are you OK?"

Of course, my typical response is "yeah," but I have never been able to play that game with Shawn. A quick (and somewhat disapproving) glance from Shawn reminded me that the basis of our friendship has always been honesty and openness, and so, standing in the middle of the roller rink, I found myself telling him everything. Although I prefer not to cry in public (due to something I was taught as a small child), the tears came pouring out, along with all the hurt, confusion and hopelessness.

What's amazing is how a few simple moments of sharing with a friend, a simple hug and a smile of reassurance can help put things into perspective. Shawn has always been my protector, and he has always believed in me. Somehow, just knowing that someone is here with me (not far away like my YS friends) who believes in me and is willing to hang on to that belief and hope until I can take it for myself, makes the life I am currently stuck in seem bearable. And then, as we were driving out of town and ended up beside each other at a red light, he signaled me the "peace" sign. Now Shawn has no idea what that means to me. Another voice of truth in my life - Stephen - always reminds me of peace and wishes me peace. Seeing that sign and being reminded of another voice of truth brought tears again, but this time they were tears of hope and a promise of joy to come.

So I have no idea what's in store for me. I currently see no way out of the trap of a life I'm in. Still, because of these voices of truth, I know that I am not alone, that I have hope, and that God has something else for me if I can just be patient enough (and quiet enough) to hear and follow.

So to Shawn, Lilly, Larry, Stephen and the other voices that God is using to speak truth to me... thank you.

2009-04-21T10:44:00.002-04:00

This past week, a group of us began working through Scot McKnight's book 40 Days Living the Jesus Creed. We're posting our thoughts on the book on a Facebook group, which forces me to really think about what I'm reading and how it applies.

For me, the idea of the Jesus Creed and praying it throughout the day isn't much of a stretch. Through the contemplative practices, I've become accustomed to praying the Jesus Prayer or other breath prayers on a consistent basis. However, I found that the Scripture from Mark was just a bit too familiar, and it quickly became a repetition of words without real meaning for me. I turned to the Message instead and created a combination of the two versions that is more thought-provoking for me. I've been using this:Hear, O Israel, the Lord your God, the Lord is one. So love the Lord your God with all your passion and prayer and intelligence and energy. Love others as well as you love yourself. There is no other commandment that ranks with these.After getting my version straight, I jumped in. Day 2 was no problem for me, though it gave me an opportunity to journal and to check on where things are in my life. I liked the reminder that to love God means to yearn for, to pray for, and work for what glorifies God and what puts God in God's place in your life (8). I thought I was cruising along and getting the hang of this.Then I hit Day 3. With the recent events of my life, loving others has been somewhat selective. I've found myself praying a line from Kendall Payne's song "Prayer" - What you do unto others, may it all be done to you - when thinking about my former employers and their political ambitions. Somehow that just didn't seem to fit into the concept of loving your neighbor - at least not in this case. So I seemed to have gotten stuck on this particular concept and how it plays out in my current situation.I started thinking about the needs that my former employers have. I discovered that what they perceive as needs are simply ambitions or desires. They need to be popular, to be promoted, to be in control - those are all their personal desires. On the 2 hour drive to my folks' place, I prayerfully considered what their true needs might be. I felt like I was consistently being led back to "love others as well as yourself," and I began to realize that Bill, Kristen and Cathy are all striving to gain others' approval and others' love rather than being able to love themselves. All three of them have spent their entire lives doing what pleases others and being whoever they needed to be to please the person who could promote them. This is especially true as they are in positions to be promoted in the next 6 months. Everything they do - including firing me - is an attempt to get someone else to love them. They don't see themselves as the beloved of God; they see themselves as little worker bees for the church. It's all about doing, pleasing and earning love, including God's love.With that sense, I actually began to feel sorry for them. I remember what it was like to be trapped in that never-ending cycle. I am so grateful for my friend Larry who helped me to believe that I am the beloved of God and that being is way more important than doing! Once you are able to "be", the doing becomes the natural outflow of all that you receive.Looking at Day 4 then, this caught my attention: "For us to be empowered by that face, we have to turn our face to God by gazing at God and by talking to God. If we fake it, we offer to God nothing but a facade. If we face God honestly by offering our true face to God, we discover in the face of God the face of love. We discover that God is love." (22)That struck me because of the facade I see my former employers and others around me (and at times myself) putting before God. I have had the terrifying experience of finding myself naked and true before the face of God and finding only love despite my own fear and shame. Although it is never a pleasant experience (at least to start), it is a rewarding, humbling and encouraging experience. My prayer for my former employers has become simply that the facade would crumble and that they would not run from the presence of God in those first difficult moments, but that they would have the courage to stay and experience true love.

So much for "Nice"

2009-04-08T15:53:00.003-04:00

Things have developed since my last post. I have since found out that although they were trying to be "nice Christians" to my face, they have been anything but nice!

Not only did they not follow the denominational procedures, but they were barely legal (and wouldn't have been had our financial person not caught it). They didn't follow procedure because they want the congregation to think it was my choice and to push through another person for the position that has been handpicked by the pastor and not the hiring committee.

It turns out that the real reason for all of this is self-promotion. Both the pastors and the district superintendent are bucking for promotions. Unfortunately for me, I could care less about denominational politics, and I was doing nothing to help them advance. Although I was doing my job (or at least what I was told was my job), I failed to produce instant recognition and promotion for them at the district and conference levels. I also discovered that I am the 3rd person in less than 3 years to be hired and fired quickly.

All this has left the entire church and community reeling. I feel sorry for all the people stuck in the system. They don't want to leave their church family, but the leadership is slowly destroying everything they believe in. Some are even questioning their faith because it doesn't seem like God is in this (and how can God not be part of a church and a pastor's life?). I'm doing what I can to help people through this. After my "church from hell" experience, I realized that pastors and people in the church can be just as manipulative, abusive, self-seeking, etc. as anyone else. God isn't in the politics, and so I can recover and survive.

So much for the "nice Christians" though... I think I'd rather stick with the messy, confused, stumbling followers of God in the way of Jesus!

"Nice" Christians

2009-04-02T17:27:00.003-04:00

The other night, I was called in to talk to all the "power authorities" in my local church. Turns out that they had decided to fire me. They tried to be "nice Christians" (they actually used that term) as they told me that after 7 months, they've decided that I'm not producing the results (apparently big numbers) that they were looking for and that I haven't made enough contacts to warrant me keeping my job. Of course, I think there are lots of reasons for this that the "nice Christians" wouldn't admit (maybe even to themselves).

I'm not exactly sure what they expected. I moved half-way across the country to do this, and it takes time to build a ministry. They told me they wanted a spiritual formation process, but apparently they want "glitz and glamour" ministry that attracts lots of kids but has little depth. My bad. I went on what they told me they expected not on the actual expectations. There was no warning of this, no previous conversation about expectations, nothing.

The "nice Christians" went on to say that they felt I wasn't called to youth ministry and that they wouldn't recommend me for another youth job. They want me to go to a Christian coach because as "nice Christians," they want to help me find God's real call on my life. I found this ironic because they based this on a "we know you better than you know yourself" concept. I have spent very little time with any of the people in that room, and absolutely no time outside of a work context. They don't have a clue who I am or what I was actually accomplishing there, for that matter. But as "nice Christians" they felt the need to justify themselves in this manner.

The "nice Christians" even said that they would help me out financially - by providing what they are legally bound to provide. Some help! Even the "church from hell" experience provided better compensation and more communication than that! And they didn't even pretend to be "nice Christians."

I've decided that it's because of people/churches/situations like these that I refuse to call myself a Christian any longer. About 1 year ago, I started saying that I'm not a Christian, but I do tell people that I'm a follower of God in the way of Jesus. I think that's more appropriate. After all, Jesus wasn't exactly "nice." Read his conversations with the Pharisees and teachers of the law or check out some of his conversations with his disciples. Jesus was real, honest, straightfoward, etc., but "nice" doesn't fit the list. One of my problems with the church and "Christians" is that so many have gotten so far (don't hear me say ALL) from the original kingdom vision. Most people, including my now former employers and the parents of my former youth, just want Christianity to be about making people "nice." It's a prosperity, personal gospel to make you behave, to make you more popular, to help you get better grades or a better job, to make you, well... "nice."

I have to say that I've had enough of "nice Christians." I much prefer the real people that I've worked with in other churches and other contexts. I'd rather have a real spiritual conversation with someone sitting at the bar than lead a "nice lesson" in a church youth group.

I still think God can redeem the church, but all of these "nice Christians" are certainly making it more difficult!

A Bit of Grace

2009-03-31T12:07:00.004-04:00

I just had themost unique experience at a ministry fair. The fair "traffic" was slow, and I was visiting with the ladies from the ministry next to me. We were chatting about what we do, the churches we attend, etc. The one lady asked me where I was from, which surprised me a bit. She said that she'd lived in the area for 27 years, but she was still considered an outsider, as were her children, so she recognizing other "outsiders." Then she asked me, "So how are things going for you personally? Don't tell me about your ministry or your church now; tell me about how things are going for you."

I wasn't quite sure how to answer this relative stranger. I've moved several times, so I know that breaking into a new community is often difficult, especially when it's a small, close-knit community such as the Olean area. I have some people that I consider friends, but I don't have anyone I would really go to in an emergency. I don't have anyone who calls and justs wants to do something. The people I do talk with all have other groups of friends or their families, and so they don't think to invite me along to things. Even when I reach out to them and invite them to do something with me, the answer usually is no because they're already doing something with another friend or with their family. I really am an outsider here.

I finally answered that it has been tough, and for the next several minutes she listened patiently and asked wise questions as I found myself revealing things to this lady that I normally would never tell to anyone except for my closest of friends. As we talked, I realized how difficult this move has been for me. I realized how much I miss my friends and my students in the Chicagoland area. I realized how tired I am of trying to be OK on my own. I realized how hard I've been trying to "play the game" so that I can fit in here and how miserably I've failed at that game.

All of this comes on the heels of being summoned before the "powers" for a meeting this evening. I was only told that we needed to discuss "some issues," and my past experience tells me that when the "powers" call a quick meeting without giving you any indication of what they want to discuss, it's trouble. It's nothing I haven't been through before, but it's never easy. And I know that I don't have one person at that meeting tonight who is in my corner. Flashbacks to the "church from hell" come rushing back.

And yet, for at least a few moments this morning, someone understood. She cared. She listened to me and affirmed me. In the midst of this stressful time and struggle, I received a bit of grace this morning - not from my pastor, not from a friend, not from the church, but from a stranger.

Breathe

2009-03-30T10:31:00.002-04:00

I recently watched Rob Bell's Nooma Video "Breathe" with my students. I've seen it before, but some new things hit me this time:

If our breathing is actually saying the name of God, then it makes sense that life begins with a breath and ends when we can no longer say the name of God.

If our breathing is actually saying the name of God, then what does it really mean to "take the name of God in vain?" My students say that it means that you shouldn't swear using God's name, but if our very breath is God's name, then wouldn't it mean more? Wouldn't it mean that our breath shouldn't be used to gossip? Wouldn't it mean that our breath shouldn't be used to tear people down or destroy people? Wouldn't it mean that our breath shouldn't be used for anything that is harmful or hurtful? Wouldn't all of that be considered taking God's name in vain?

Would "wasting our breath" by rambling on with meaningless chatter also be considered taking God's name in vain?

The other thing that caught my attention this time was that science says we should receive 90% of our energy from breathing, but we don't. How much does that speak to us not tapping into the power that God has for us?

I'm not sure I have any answers for this, but it certainly made me (and my students) think!

Emerging Church Conference

2009-03-30T09:47:00.004-04:00

Last week I attended the Emerging Church Conference at Houghton College. It was a surprise to me that Houghton would bring in Tony Jones for an event, but it was no surprise that people pulled their funding from Houghton or that the event wasn't very well attended (compared to other conferences). Why do people see the emerging church as such a threat?

Some of the questions and statements made were very interesting. Someone said that Brian McLaren doesn't believe in the atonement. Have they read any of his stuff? A discussion about "absolute truth" broke out at one point, and I loved Tony's response: Truth doesn't need a qualifier like absolute. It's true or it's not. I thought Tony did a great job of responding (or not) to a woman who kept pushing him on a few issues. It was obvious that Tony had several opportunities to completely destroy her, and he very deftly avoided doing so.

I guess I wonder how I ended up in an area that is so anti-emergent when I am so emergent myself. Even on my facebook page, old college friends were upset when they discovered I was supporting Tony and emergent at the conference. Is it simply because I've been through so much with the church and realize that this can't be all that God intended for us? Are my friends and colleagues so bound up in the bureaucracy and politics of the dominational structures that they aren't willing to even consider that some of those structures might actually be harmful to the church (as the body of Christ)? Have they sold out for a paycheck or security? Or have they simply never questioned anything?

I know it sounds a bit hypocritical to say they've sold out for a paycheck or security since I am working for a church myself. I'll readily admit that I play the game to some extent to earn the paycheck. But I also refuse to go through the denominational indoctrination process in any denomination despite the fact that it would benefit me financially and would insure future positions with the church. I just can't do it. In fact, when someone asks me for my church affliation, my typical response is "Well, right now the ____________ are paying me." I just think there are more important things to focus on the denomination differences.

I work within the church systems because I believe that the church (like everything else) can be redeemed. I remember having a conversation with Mike Yaconelli at one point when I was ready to walk away from the church. He said that he understood my pain and frustration, but he also said that he hoped I wouldn't walk away. The church is the body of Christ, the vehicle for sharing the good news of Jesus Christ with the world. It is made up of imperfect people, so, of course, it has its flaws. Mike said that he couldn't help but wonder what would happen if people who wanted to follow Jesus actually worked within the church to try to help the church become at least more of what it was supposed to be. Eventually, that became my own philosophy as well. So I keep working for churches and praying that my influence within them will help them become more like the body and bride of Christ. I think the example of many of the emerging church leaders is helpful in this process, and I think many of the emerging churches are giving us great examples of what this can look like for a local congregation.

Ash Wednesday

2009-02-25T15:31:00.003-05:00

So I'm leading a large part of our Ash Wednesday service this evening, and I wanted it to be more of an experiential prayer piece. I'm handing out little squares of burlap (cut from a feed sack) and asking the people to smell it, hold it, rub it's rough texture against their skin. I'm tying it to the Old Testament idea of "sackcloth and ashes," but the real empahsis is on repentance.

I started thinking about how people use Lent to give up chocolate, TV or coffee. I know the idea is to sacrifice throughout the season, but I think we've made it a contest or a bit of a joke by making it so trivial. In my former church, the pastor and I used to joke that the church does "death and dying" really well, but we don't do "celebration and joy" well at all. As I think about it, we focus so much on the death of Christ, but what about the journey to get there?

Lent was originally a season of reflection and repentance as new converts prepared for their baptism on Easter Sunday. The symbolism was walking a journey with Christ and turning away from the things that harm your soul. In fact, "repent" means "to turn away." It's not the simple "I'm sorry, forgive me" concept that churches often present. If Lent is the season of reflection and turning away from what harms the soul, then our kick-off of the season should point the way.

So, I designed a reflection around this burlap and repentance. The key is for each person to have time to reflect on the things that they need to turn away from this season. Perhaps they need to turn away from pride and seek reconciliation with someone. Maybe it's to turn away from anger and seek healing or to turn away from self-righteousness and seek forgiveness. It could be a need to turn away from the comfortable and take steps to do what God is calling them to do. It could be a need to turn away from noise or busyness and to seek time in silence and solitude so they can hear God speak to them. These are the things I am posing to my fellow travelers this evening. This is the challenge for this season of Lent. I'm hoping that they will be encouraged to turn away from whatever is harming their souls and to turn towards Jesus, who offers beauty instead of ashes.

Transforming Theology: All the Answers

2009-02-25T15:12:00.002-05:00

From Reclaiming Church, p. 59: Christians sometimes aruge that this dynamic history of transformation ended with Jesus Christ. In him, it is said, we have finality and completeess, so tha tonce the meaning of this event was settled by the church no further transformation has been desirable. Change after the kerygma was proclaimed, the canon closed or the creeds fixed is heresy. For those who think this way, renewal is indeed the correct response. Although there may be room for contiuing to interpretation and reformulation for the sake of intelligibility in different cultural contexts, there is nothing of relevance to be learned from other sources.

If God created the world to change, grow, evolve... why shouldn't our faith and our practices as the church? and are we to assume that we (or they) knew all there was to know of God at the time of the canon, creeds or even Christ? Did they have a complete knowledge of all future times, future cultural pressures on faith and future perspectives?

Similarly, we can't assume that we have all the answers for all of time either. We have to do the best we can with what we know, but I think it's a contant pursuit. Thus, "transforming" rather than "formed" or even "transformed."

As for renewal, we've settled into this pattern of renewing behavior or ideas, but we haven't done a very good job of changing anything substantial or teaching people to think. Behavioral change for the sake of fitting in has contributed to the problem. This fits with the westernized interpretations of much that we believe in oldline churches.

2009-02-25T15:03:00.002-05:00

From Reclaiming Church, p. 31: This does not mean that pastors and lay people in large numbers must study the writings of academic theologians. It does require that church people recognize that unless we reflect seriously, as Christians, about who we are and what we are called to be, we continue to drift into decadence. ... If we continue as present, the losses may be gradual, but there is no end in sight. If we commit ourselves to follow Christ as best we can, there is no guarantee of numerical growth. There is, however, a chance that the renewed authenticity will attract new people and become the basis for a new beginning.

I guess this is all that I, and others like me, are hoping for. I'm not looking to work within the church to create the next mega-church or the next marketing wave. I simply want my local church and my students to learn to think about who they are and what we, as a local congregation and as "the church," are called to be. The entitlement and decadence that has crept into our lives needs to be challenged, and the motivation for doing so can't be "a new program to encourage church growth." I think this type of change in a local church will actually cause the numbers to drop a bit, but those who do come to the church will notice that something is different, and hopefully, they will help us reclaim and rebuild what was intended.

I have a friend who says that church would be great if they just posted the "Let's Pretend" signs on the door so that everyone knew what to expect. What would happen if this commitment to think and be real actually happened in a church and the "Let's Pretend" signs could be destroyed? Think how much impact that could have on a community!

Transforming Theology: Responsibility

2009-02-25T14:55:00.004-05:00

From Reclaiming Church, p. 23: The vast majority of lay people and even most pastors deny that they are theologians. For them, theology is something to be done by scholars in universities and theological schools. Lay people and pastors do not understand themselves as responsible to think as Christians. Such responsibility as they accept is for the operation of the church, the adjudication of disputes that arise within it, and moral judgments in response to issues posed to them, usually by the secular world.

When did the business of church become more important and more acceptable than seeking to know God? Why have we encouraged this behavior and this pattern?

Also, I work with a pastor who sees himself as a theologian. However, by his own admission, he'd much rather sit in a comfortable chair and discuss theology than actually act on his convictions. The acceptable perception is that the "scholars" should sit and talk about theology, and the rest of the church should just get busy and do something. Theology rarely informs or influences the action. Why have we allowed this to be the case? When did we expect people to either be theologians or worker bees?

Transforming Theology: Feminist Issue?

2009-02-25T14:43:00.002-05:00

From ReClaiming Church, p. 18: We are left with an increasing sense that no one knows, or much cares, who or "what" God is. The church cannot call for ultimate devotion to such an uncertain entity.

I'm not convinced this is just a "feminist" issue as the author claims. I think the narrowed vision of God occured as part of an effort to make Christianity palatable for Americans who just want their faith to enhance their lives and bring them prosperity. I think the real culprit is the sell-out to a consumeristic culture that requires little and promises much. We have consistently left out the cost of following Jesus. We (as the church) haven't done a very good job of painting the whole picture or encouraging people to seek after God as a priority.

This is evident in my youth ministry. Parents and students say they want to learn to be followers of Jesus. Give them a choice between a prayer retreat, mission trip and soccer camp, and they'll choose soccer camp every time. Encourage your students to take a year off after high school to do short-term mission work and watch what happens! I guarantee the parents won't be thanking you. And heaven forbid if you might even insinuate that basketball, the marching band or a student's full schedule of AP courses might be harming that child's soul...

In effect, we have watered down the vision of God because we want people to like our church, to like our services and to give money to pay our bills. Challenge the people, turn things upside down, suggest that maybe some of their thinking is a bit off... people leave and go to the church down the street. There's always another church ready to offer a nicer, safer vision of who God is so that you don't have to do anything that might be uncomfortable or even hint at real sacrifice.

Transforming Theology: Loss of Shared Convictions

2009-02-25T14:38:00.002-05:00

When thinking about the loss of shared convictions, I wonder if our fast food culture isn't to blame for some of this. It's hard work to dig into theology and determine beliefs. The church has tried to make it easier by telling people what to think, do, believe and/or behave. Our worship service structure even revolves around this. We center our services around a sermon where we tell people what to think and what to do. We've spoon-fed people for so long that they no longer see the need for a personal pursuit of theology or a need to allow what little theology they do have to impact their lives.

It's kind of like deciding you're hungry and then pulling into the nearest drive-thru. What you eat is determined by the menu of that particular fast food joint, and you accept that and go for it. If, at any point, you get tired of that or have a problem with that, you just drive on down the road to the next fast food joint. There isn't a lot of thought involved. It's just what you do.

Transforming Theology: Intro to Reclaiming Church

2009-02-10T12:34:00.002-05:00

These are some of the things that stood out to me as I read the intro of John B. Cobb Jr.'s Reclaiming Church:

Movements flourish when their members are passionately committed. Christianity has flourished when Christians have been convinced that their faith is of supreme importance to them individually and collectively and also to the world. These convictions call forth deep personal commitments and willingess to sacrifice.

Personally, I think that the passion in most times of the church flourishing was inspired by the commitment and willingness to sacrifice. The church seems to have flourished the most when it has been forced underground, when there is a need to sacrifice in order to be a part of the church. There's something about our comfortable lives and our comfortable churches that drains the passion from us. Perhaps it's simply too difficult to imagine sacrificing for anything, let alone our faith?

But today in the oldline churches, this is rare. ... More often the leadership holds it together out of institutional loyalty while losing most of those who have strong convictions and find that htey can act on these better somewhere else. Those who remain are the lukewarm.

Again, I've found this to be true. I see people pulling together to build homes for those who are homeless, provide food for the hungry, care for the sick, visit those in prison, clothe those who are naked... all completely outside of the church bubble. It seems to me that Jesus mentioned doing these very same things in Matthew 25, and yet the church would rather hear sermons on Matthew 25 than actually do any of these things. On the rare occasion that someone decides they should act on it, a collection is taken for a particular cause. I'm not knocking those who are willing to help pay for such efforts, but it seems to me that writing a check isn't a really transforming experience for most people. So the committed leave the church frustrated with the inaction, and they join efforts such as the ONE campaign, genocide prevention, programs that care for children or the homeless, AIDS prevention and assistance programs, building organizations. Those who have the strong convictions about their faith are finding places to minister and to "have church" outside the church and church organizations. In many cases, this leaves the church institution struggling to teach and motivate the lukewarm and the apathetic. No wonder our churches are dying a slow and painful death!

We inspire no passion. Need I say more? Except that I think we do inspire passion. We (as the insitutionalized church) inspire passion for the "club" mentality. We inspire passion for marketing and finding "better" ways to get people to join our club. We inspire passion for the status quo and making sure that no matter what happens in our culture or our community, we keep the church as a steady constant. We inspire passion for a routine and a comfortable rut. We inspire passion for a certain style of music or preaching. Unfortunately, none of these "inspired passions" have anything to do with mission, with searching for truth, with seeking God wholeheartedly, with faith in action.

The problem of the oldline churches is more commonly that expectations are too low...
Again, I've found this to be all too often true in my experiences. I expect the confirmation students to embark on a journey of self-discovery and God-discovery; I'm told that I just need to tell them what to believe and get it over with. I expect jr. high students to actually seek God in silence and various prayer practices; I'm told they aren't capable of being quiet and still. I expect the students to learn and discuss something during our youth group sessions; I'm told that I should just play games and do whatever it takes to get them through the door... I've had all these experiences with youth. Ironically, the youth have risen to the challenge. Though there are some struggles initially, they actually want the bar to be raised. It's the parents and the entrenched "church people" who complain the loudest and demand that expectations be lowered. Maybe I'm crazy, but I expect that people who seek God through a church should be challenged to actually seek God! I expect that they shouldn't just talk about it, but act on what they believe. I expect that hearts and souls and lives should be transformed through the process, and I expect that we should continue to become more and more like Christ - to each other and to the world outside our church bubble.

I think most people want to be challenged. I think most people want to belong to something that isn't easy, that costs them something. I think most people don't put much thought into their faith because we've made faith/church/theology too easy to be worth the effort.

Transforming Theology - Church Decline

2009-02-10T12:11:00.002-05:00

I didn't get any further than John B. Cobb Jr.'s first paragraph of Reclaiming Church as I started my reading and contributions to the Transforming Theology project.

Cobb states, "I have become distressed about their [the church and theology] growing separation and the rsults htis has had for both. The church has come to identify theology with what professionals do. Since what professionals do has been increasingly determined by the norms of the university rather than by the needs of the church, the church has lost interest in what it understand to be 'theology.' Too often the result has been that the church has ceased to think about its own life in terms of its faith, a faith that has itself becom vague and unconvincing. This is, I believe, the deepest cause of the decline of the oldline denominations."

As someone who has been working for the last 6 years in an oldline denomination, I have seen this first hand. In my own journey, as theology became increasingly more important to my faith and my transformation, I felt the need to share this discovery process with others. As a youth leader, it was natural that I began to encourage my students to develop their theology. I mentioned this to a parent who freaked out. It turned into meetings with the pastor and the leadership, during which the pastor and I patiently explained that theology was simply learning about God, God's attributes and searching for truth. That was OK with this parent (who had grown up in the church) until we moved from "just study" to action. It seems that a number of people are OK with knowing about God and Jesus, but when that knowledge turns into practice, it disrupts their nice, safe, comfortable lives and is totally unacceptable.

I've found this to be true in a number of church scenarios. Let's talk about God, figure God out, even debate various aspects of how the theology should change us, but don't cross the line and actually do something as dictated by your theology. The result is a lot of talk and no action - something that accounts for much of the "hypocritical" status that the rest of our culture often uses to define us. The church has become more and more an institution concerned about learning stories, learning beliefs, learning specific behaviors that make you nice and might appeal to others in your community. Ironically, it is this desire to control beliefs and behaviors that have pushed so many away. In my experience, people outside of the church or people who have been rejected by the church are much more likely to have at least begun exploring theology - or seeking of God and truth - in a mcuh more interesting, authentic and comprehensive way.

Transforming Theology

2009-02-10T09:53:00.003-05:00

OK, so I started this blog as part of this project called "Transforming Theology." You can read more about the project and see what's happening there at this website: http://transformingtheology.org/

I joined the project because the rebuilding of my faith and consequent healing process from all my abandonment issues, rejection by the church, pastoral abuse, etc. was linked with my ability to rethink all that I thought I knew of Christ. As I developed my theology, it transformed who I was, how I viewed myself, how I approached life and how I approached others. I had help along the way from various authors from Henri Nouwen to Tony Jones and Brian McLaren. I had help from supportive people who understood the need to take this journey. I recovered my faith through the conversations about theology, and I began to see the importance of not blindly accepting what you've been taught. Now I question everything and am involved in a constant pursuit of truth. I attempt to teach my studnts this pursuit, and it is because of the transforming capabilities of my attempt to define what I believe that I believe this is so important to the church (as people, not institutions).

Direction

2009-02-08T12:15:00.002-05:00

The first person that walked through that valley of hurt and despair with me was Larry. He had been my spiritual director at the retreat, and it was through him that I began to see myself as having value and being loved.

Larry has this thing about making sure that everyone knows they are the beloved of God. I wasn't even remotely capable of believing that when I first met Larry, but he was persistent. He loved me and cared for me. He helped me to see that others loved and cared for me. He even believed I was the beloved of God enough for me to consider that I might be. You might say that he believed enough for me when I couldn't believe it myself. Eventually, with some help and guidance from Larry, I began to believe this basic truth for myself - and about myself.

Larry also taught me to pray with bubbles. There's something joyful and happy about bubbles that just doesn't allow you to sit in self-pity, despair, stress or sorrow for too long. It was a great release - to pray (scream, yell, cry, etc.) about my situation and all my hurts while blowing bubbles. They floated away on the breeze, rose up to the heavens, popped on the grass or simply swirled to an end on the end of my bubble wand. The thing about bubbles is that they don't last, you can't hold on tightly to them, and no matter what you do, they can't be taken back once they are blown. Eventually, I learned to do that with my hurts and stresses. Bubble by bubble, bit by bit, I began to release all the things that were beyond my control. Slowly, all those hurtful things began to lose their power over me, and a joy that I hadn't felt since I was a small child began to creep back into my life.

Saving Faith

2009-02-08T12:01:00.002-05:00

Even while I was at the "church from hell," my faith crisis began. I remember sitting at a friend's kitchen table and saying, "I know I'm a youth pastor, and I know that I'm supposed to be helping other people grow their faith. But right now, I'm not even sure God exists."

I did eventually move on from God's existence because there were just too many things that I had experienced to let go of God completely, but I did wonder if God really cared about me, about life, about anything. It seemed to me that the only connection with God was church, and all the church cared about was filling the seats and the offering plates. This, combined with my personal experiences there, led me to a point where I was ready to walk away from everything.

But my best friend just couldn't let me go. Even though he was dealing with his own crisis of faith, he couldn't bear to see me walk away. He arranged for me to go on a retreat that changed everything for me. It was a Sabbath retreat designed by Youth Specialities, and it was basically a 5 day prayer retreat. Although it was not normally something I would have pursued, the idea of having 5 days of quiet and rest appealed to me since I was being used and abused at that church. It wasn't the rest that saved my faith though.

I walked into a small group of people who genuinely cared about me and cared what was happening to me. I experienced a kind of love and care there that I had not experienced before. That is the moment that I now say that Jesus grabbed hold of my life - all my life. Everything was miserable for me, and so it wasn't that big of a deal to give it to Jesus and to these people who loved me, right?

As Mike Yaconelli used to say, "Jesus gets a hold of your life and he ruins it." That's exactly what happened to me. After having a taste of what the church is supposed to be like and starting to actually believe that I was worth something, I couldn't let that connection go. I had found a connection with Jesus outside of the church itself, and I couldn't bear to let the church destroy what I had found. In the process, I had to surrender way more than I had bargained for. It was this desire that ultimately led to my being fired from that church. I lost everything that I relied on for security, and I embarked on this journey of searching for healing and truth - a journey that I wasn't really sure I wanted to take.

In the midst of this, there were a number of people who walked through that disasterous early part of my healing journey with me. Had it not been for them, I probably wouldn't be here today. Some of these people were personal contacts who loved and cared for me. Others were authors and speakers who caught my attention and started shaping who I would become.

I basically threw out everything faith-related that I couldn't confirm by my own personal experiences and started over. When I reached into my "Sack O' Faith" as one friend calls it, I discovered that most of what was there had been shoved into the bag without any thought or meaning. The hard work of my real spiritual journey was just beginning.

The Church from Hell

2009-02-04T17:28:00.002-05:00

My first full-time ministry position landed me in the church from hell (as I affectionately refer to it now). They were all about making converts and building up church attendance, and this was often at the cost of digging deeper. Questions were not allowed. People were asked to leave the church if they didn't support the pastor and his views 100%. If you made mistakes publicly, you were asked to leave. "People like that" weren't allowed to be associated with the church. All that mattered was the number of people who "said the prayer" and "checked the box" each week.

I entered ministry thinking that working for a church would be easier than working for the public schools. I imagined staff meetings as a time of sharing about what really mattered, praying and connecting. I imagined that the pastor would actually care about the state of my soul. I imagined that the leadership would truly care about and for one another. I couldn't have been more wrong.

Within a few weeks, I discovered that I was expected to work crazy long hours each week. Vacations and days off were not an option for me. Although the senior pastor seemed to only work 10-15 hours a week, I was expected to work 65, then 75, and eventually 85 or more hours each week because "it's for the Lord." I was systematically cut off from all those who were a support system for me because I "needed to be set apart." I found myself being told I didn't know how to pray correctly. I was leading worship, and I was repeatedly criticized because I didn't worship correctly. I didn't connect with the right people, and I defended the wrong people. I was in trouble because the youth program was ministering to "the wrong kids." I was being used and abused - mentally, emotionally, spiritually, and to some extent physically - and I had no idea it was even happening.

After almost three years, I was so totally entrenched in this system that I actually believed the pastor when he would say things like, "Go ahead and try to find another position. No one else will hire you." After a 90+ hour work week, the pastor called me in and told me that I needed to spend more time at the church because I wasn't meeting all of his expectations. He demanded that I complete an 8 week devotional and a full curriculum on love prior to leaving (in 2 days) for our spring mission trip. When I pushed back saying it couldn't be done in that short amount of time, he told me, "I know we're reading this book where all the people who were on staff together loved each other so much that they all retired to the same community, but right now, I don't think I even want you as part of this team, let alone to be with you for the rest of my life." I left his office and collapsed in a heap in my own office. My best friend (and the only person in my life that the pastor hadn't scared away) was also there, and he couldn't take watching the abuse any longer. I couldn't have escaped that situation on my own, and I didn't believe my friend when he pointed out what was happening. He arranged for me to attend a retreat, and it was that retreat and the loving people that surrounded me there that saved my life.

When I returned home from the retreat with a clearer understanding of what was happening at that church, I demanded a few changes in hopes that the people of the church would be godly, loving people and would still care for me like I thought church people could. It never actually got to the people of the church. The leadership team told me to "suck it up," and when I revealed to them what had been going on, they threatened me. It seems that the building project was contingent on the pastor's approval rating, and they couldn't risk anyone knowing what had been going on with the staff. Within three months, I had been fired. The church people were told I had another job elsewhere. My compensation was dependent on me not having any contact with people from the church or in the community. I was even told that I had to do my grocery shopping late at night when most people wouldn't be in the store.

I lost everything - my house, my job, my friends, even the guy I was seriously dating. I left there wounded and bleeding from the soul. I had been questioning the very existence of God, and had it not been for a few loving souls who walked with me through this devastating experience, I would have walked away from ministry and my faith completely.

Call to Ministry

2009-02-04T16:53:00.002-05:00

As I said before, Dr. Moulder was the one who first mentioned to me that God might be calling me into full-time youth ministry. I had never considered such a thing. In the little church where I grew up, women didn't go into ministry. They assisted their husbands with ministry by playing the piano and leading women's Bible studies. They served the local church as Sunday School teachers, musicians, choir members, funeral meal preparers and fundraisers. But women didn't actually go into ministry! Still, the idea was planted...

Dr. Moulder arranged for me to attend some youth ministry classes. Rick Dunn was a youth ministry guru at the time, and he was the head of the department at Trinity during those years. The very first class I attended made an impression on me. Rick said, "If you think God is calling you into ministry, do everything else you can think of instead. If you still end up in ministry, you'll know it was God." So I took him quite literally. I pursued my degree in music education and went home to my former high school to teach.

I found myself loving every minute of the times I spent volunteering at church. After a few years of teaching, I found myself volunteering for worship and youth at a local church. The youth pastor sucked me into a number of programs, and I found that I couldn't wait to get to church or to meet with the youth. Meanwhile, I found myself dreading going to school more and more. The saving grace of teaching was the interaction I had with students after school - during musical practices and sporting events. I started wondering if there wasn't something to a call to youth ministry for me.

In October 1999, I was given the opportunity to attend Youth Specialties' National Youth Workers' Convention in San Diego. I hadn't told anyone about my tugs toward full-time ministry. I sat in a general session and listened to Mike Yaconelli. I'm not sure what he really said that day, but I heard the call into full-time ministry and was affirmed by Mike in that very instant. Still, I wasn't sure. What about my teaching job? The money wasn't great, but it was better than youth ministry pay. What about this church and these students I had come to love? Where would this ministry gig take me? What would I have to give up? I really wasn't sure I was ready to cave in to the call to ministry just yet.

A few weeks later, there was a terrible car crash which killed 3 of my students and injured 3 more. One of the students who was killed was one of our starters for the varsity basketball team. Practices had just started, and we'd just started to get back into the rhythm of team life. The coaching staff gathered the team together to process Adam's death, and the team decided to give Adam's jersey to his mother as a gesture of our sorrow and as an act of "retiring" his number. The team chose the head coach and I to represent the team in doing this. Handing Adam's jersey to his grieving mother and having her look at me and ask "Why?" was one of the hardest things I've ever done in my life.

I left the funeral home that evening and went to the youth pastor's office. I sat down with Gregg and finally gave in to my own grief and confusion. I had worked with Adam every day over the last five years, and I had not had one significant conversation with him in that time. The school regulations forbid personal conversations. I remember telling Gregg, "I can't keep doing this. I have to do what means something."

That evening, and the following conversations I had with God, were the turning point for me. I gave into the call to ministry. Still, I didn't tell anyone. I didn't know what to say or how to go about making this change. It wasn't until February, when Gregg finally called me out and asked me what was going on that I confessed my sense of being called into ministry. There was something "magical" in that moment. As soon as I actually said the words to Gregg - even before he responded - I knew that it was what I needed to do.

And thus began the phrase of my journey where I entered full-time ministry. I'd "caved in" (as I often tell people) to the call of God on my life, but I still had my reservations. I wasn't quite ready to give God my entire life just yet.

College Impact

2009-02-03T12:14:00.002-05:00

College life was a challenge for me. I had some awesome professors who challenged me in a number of ways. Some wouldn't let me slide by without putting much effort into the class. Others turned my worldview upside down. However, the most challenging for me was Dr. Bill Moulder. He challenged me to dig into the text of the Bible and engage with what I was reading and studying. He challenged me to question. He challenged me to go beyond the text and to engage in St. Ignatius' imaginative prayer practices (though I had no idea that's what they were at the time). He challenged me to consider that God might be calling me into youth ministry. He challenged me to take what I was learning and consider how that should be transforming my heart, my soul, my life.

I remember having a conversation with Dr. Moulder about that phrase from my childhood church: to know Him and to make Him known. Dr. Moulder asked me what I knew about Jesus. After spouting off all the information I had stored up, he said, "Yes, but do you know Jesus?" I hestitated before relaying the story I had been taught to tell about my "conversion" experience where I "accepted Christ as my personal Savior." Again, Dr. Moulder asked, "But do you know Jesus?" This one question, more than anything else in my four years of experiences, stands out to me. Did I know Jesus? I knew my friends and my roommate. I could tell you what they liked and didn't like. I could tell you what made them tick. I could tell you what kinds of people they were. But I wasn't sure I could do that for Jesus. For all the information I had, I had never really considered Jesus to be a real person that I could know. That question from my childhood began to haunt me again: what does it mean to know Jesus?

Bible Quizzing

2009-02-03T12:07:00.002-05:00

Throughout high school, my church encouraged us to compete in Bible Quizzing. it was a great way to learn verses and the content of whole books of the Bible; however, the knowledge never go from the head to the heart. I memorized whole chapters of the Bible, but I had no idea what any of it really meant or how it connected to that idea of knowing Jesus. Of course, in any given situation, I could readily spout out an appropriate verse, which showed how "spiritual" I was, right?

I still hear of Bible Quizzing, and my local conference even had a "Bible Knowledge Quiz" at their latest event. I often wonder what the purpose of this is. Is it to teach students to spout Bible verses in any situation? Is it to make sure that these kids are staying out of trouble and doing nice, "Christian" things instead? Why did my church want us to engage in quizzing and memorizing?

One of the ancient Jewish commandments was to take the words of God and "write them on your heart." Somehow this doesn't seem to be what we were doing with quizzing. Internalizing instead of memorizing seems more appropriate. Finding the connection between head and heart seems more appropriate. Engaging in what the text means, how the text connects you to Jesus, allowing the text to change you... these seem more appropriate. I often wonder if being allowed to question and examining the text from different angles wouldn't have been a better use of all those hours I spent quizzing.

Childhood Church

2009-02-03T11:04:00.005-05:00

Thinking back to my first remembered experiences of church and of God, my overall impression is "rules." There were some great people in my little country church, and had it not been for them, I probably would have gone off the deep end long ago. But still, the overall impression of what God and church was all about was that I was to behave and follow the rules.

At first I did pretty well with this. I sat relatively still during the sermons (thanks to the raisins and drawing paper my mother provided). I listened to the flannel graph stories in Sunday School, and other than that day when I shifted the car out of park (on a hill) while waiting for mom to come out of the church, I generally did what I was told. But then came the day in my 4th grade Sunday School class when I bucked the system. I asked a question. It's not that questions were completely forbidden, but I asked one of those questions; I asked why creation and evolution couldn't both be true. Without really understanding what I had done wrong, I found myself getting kicked out of Sunday School and being sent to my mother's classroom. This began a pattern of questioning and being kicked out. Fortunately for me, most of the time I was intercepted by a wise pastor who often took me for walks and patiently answered my questions. Unfortunately, I learned that everything has an answer, and when that pastor moved on, I learned that it was better to just not ask the questions.

Still, there were great people who loved me. Jr. high was a traumatic time as my parents fought and discussed splitting up and my older brother decided to use me as an outlet for his frustrations. I spent hours at the church and playing basketball and volleyball in the church's recreation center. The church gave me a place to belong when I didn't have any other safe place to go. Playing their game seemed a small price to pay for such love and security.

There was one phrase that stands out to me from my childhood church: To know Him and make Him known. That was a phrase that was introduced to us as an early form of a mission statement. It was scuplted in big letters and placed on the wall at the front of the church. I spent many hours looking at that phrase and wondering if I really knew Jesus - or if anyone in my church did, for that matter. I think that wondering led me to even more of those secretly harbored questions, the biggest being "What does it mean to really know Jesus?"

Journey Map

2009-02-02T15:36:00.003-05:00

As I start this blog, I am amazed at where I've already been on this journey! This is the extremely short version as an overall map to my journey thus far. Additional posts will fill in details as well as provide a bit more theology to discuss.

I was raised in a small town (and thus a small church) in NW PA. Church has been a part of my life as long as I can remember, although I later came to learn that it was just something that everyone from our small town did on Sunday mornings - everyone except my dad, that is.

My journey has been marked by amazing people who have helped guide me through life. Some have helped me connect with God; others have helped me question my faith.

I went to Trinity International University (the Trinity College) in Deerfield, IL. Mostly, I chose Trinity because of the scholarships they gave me, but it was a great place for me to explore my faith further. It was a Trinity that I first was introduced to the idea of women in ministry and was challenged to consider that God might be calling me into youth ministry.

It took me 10 years to finally give in to the call to ministry. When I did, I found myself in what I now affectionately call "the church from hell." It was a miserable experience that led me to question everything I believed. Yet, through that situation, I was given opportunities to explore contemplative prayer, emerging theology, and what it means to be a follower of God in the way of Jesus.

My other ministry positions have been less eventful (for the most part), but my journey has not. I've journeyed from an extremely conservative, fundamentalist theology to what many now consider to be a liberal, emergent, ever-changing, ever-questioning theology. I just see it as a constant pursuit of truth and what makes the most sense. I'm always open to what makes more sense!

The biggest part of my journey at this point is conversation. The ongoing conversation with others challenges me to keep exploring, to keep searching, and to keep thinking. In fact, I started this blog so that I could officially be part of a conversation about transforming theology. I'm looking forward to the conversations in the posts ahead.