That's the thing about Marla

There are so many things in my daily life that are touched by Marla. She was the first to make me listen to Brian Regan, she and I shared a love of muppets, and a love of decorating, and a love of applying movie quotes to daily life. She insisted that I try mint caramel dove chocolate, and we both love candy corn and tim tams. Even as I look around my office I see a stuffed kitty-kat that Marla gave to me one winter when I was battling a particularly nasty cold, a mug in the shape of a caldron that was filled with fall themed candy, a book that I loaned her years ago and just never took home, and a picture of us at NACCAP in front of a very amusing 4-story tall mural of Jesus. All of these things are shot through with joy, sass, and tenderness. I have so many memories of Marla saying something completely unexpected at just the right time, and it was hilarious. And even as I try to remember all the places in my life that are touched by Marla, it only hints at what it is that she meant to me and the impact she had.

That's the thing about Marla- her greatest impact is shown in the lives of people around her. Sometimes it feels like everyone says that, but it was true in such a special way with Marla. She listened without judgment, she was great at keeping confidences, and she invested deeply in the lives of those around her because she had a gift of seeing beauty and good in others. She was great at remembering and caring about things that were going on your life, following up on those things, and asking you what you needed in order to grow and move forward in your life. It is a rare gift indeed to actively invest in the growth of others as it interacts with daily reality. 

I think this last thing was rooted so deeply in Marla that it was hard to see. It can be hard to see that someone cares about your personal growth and your relationship with God. It can be harder to see when someone is invested deeply and advocating for you; and it can be even harder yet to see when that gift is in someone who is unassuming. I have seen it today in the outpouring surrounding Marla’s death. So many people have shared kind words and stories about Marla and they all contain some reflection of this particular strength. “She always wished she had more time to spend with each one of them.” “I am privileged to have known her.” “She truly fought hard to live well.” “Your love for the Lord was evident and you will be missed.” “Boss and dear friend.” “Co-worker, friend, confidant.”

One thing people remark on is Marla’s faith and her attitude in the midst of several battles with cancer. She would be the first to tell you that it was the Spirit in her. I know that she treasured the chances she got to point to the Lord and that she carried a burden for others to know the love of Christ. That has also been very clearly reflected in people's remembrances of Marla from sharing verses to talking about her example, encouragement, and joy that she is in heaven.

A few years ago, right after Marla was diagnosed with stage four cancer, her church started a series on heaven. It was a delight to be friends with Marla as she learned more about heaven and leaned into that reality in a deeper way. She had the unique position of being able to learn knowing that it would be true not just “one day” but one day soon. One of my favorite memories was when she learned that we will work in heaven- that we will have labor that is free from the fall and full of reward and fruit. Marla loved work, she loved TIU, and she loved the people she worked with. So the thought of having a role, a way to contribute that is not fallen and tainted with the struggle of sin- that was a glorious thought! I cannot wait to get to heaven and see what it is that Marla is up to and how much work she already has done, and to hear about it, and see the things she has built. As I sat there listening to her, we were both getting excited about this upcoming reality, and it hit me- she got to go first. I told her as much and she replied “You are darn right I do, I have cancer, and something good has to come out of this.” And it has, friend. I submit that many, many good things have come out of your cancer, and I am so deeply sorry that you had to walk through this and I can only wish that you never had to. 

  

32 and Single: Realistic Expectations?

One of my favorite things about blogging is that it is a big conversation. I recently posted a short commentary entitled 32 and Single: A Response to "How I Know My Wife Married the "Wrong" Person." Many of you responded on Facebook, over email, or in person and I enjoyed hearing your thoughts. Thank you for sharing pieces of yourselves. I am surprised that the most popular topic of conversation has been about doing the work involved in marriage. While I have many thoughts about this, there is one piece of feedback in particular that I keep coming back to. A friend of mine pointed out that it might be unrealistic to look for a man who is ready to do the work of marriage, but instead to look for someone with the character qualities that are the building blocks of this kind of work. At first, I thought she was splitting hairs, but she pointed out that things like admitting you are wrong, apologizing, and being open to confrontation, and even counseling, are things that are much more socially acceptable for women.

I think her point might connect to gender based social norms. Why is it that we praise a man who is going to become a counselor, but catch our breath and pause when a man we know mentions that he is going to counseling for his own benefit? Why is emotional and mental health something that might be more acceptable for women? Is it? Really? Even if that is case, marriage is one of the hardest and best things that I have seen and as such it seems like it is one of those circumstances where it is okay to hold out for this quality. Personal, internal growth is one of my deepest values, and I hope that should be enough reason for me to wait for someone who can meet me in this place.

But is it? Other pressures and voices vie for my allegiance.You are getting older and there will be less opportunities out there. Don't back down from being yourself- you are only going to attract someone who isn't afraid of a strong woman if you are acting like a strong woman. But don't be too intimidating. Don't be too hard, or too soft. What, if anything, about this is available for compromise? Isn't marriage at least partly about compromise? All of those voices feel thin. They don't have the meat of the Spirit.

As deep calls to deep
Now you, who began with the Spirit, how do you think you can continue in your own strength?
Love one another deeply and from the heart
Do not lie to one another... since as member of the same body, you were called to peace

The Spirit challenges me and calls me forth in such a way that I have to be the most full version of myself in order to answer. These voices ask me to leave something substantive behind to "get a man." The voice of the Spirit calls me to bring all of myself and my values and to be transparent and honest with others. Listening to those other voices feels like a lie because they ask me to hide some of my fire, complexity, and fear. I think that I need to hang onto all of those things in order to honor the depth of the Christian life. So, yes, I think I do want to wait for a man who is capable of doing the work of marriage. And I think there is merit to the idea that the work of marriage-things like apologizing, owning and working through one's dysfunction, challenging others to be the best version of themselves- is more socially acceptable in women. What do you think?

The Wrong Questions

For months now many areas of my life have been in flux - my boss took a job in New York; my roommate of three years got married; I left my church of thirteen years to join not only another church, but a totally new denomination; two of my dear friends and co-workers left to have a family and move to another state. And I complained. I am complaining.

Basically every day I am upset that these are the changes I have and not the changes I want. Why isn't my career taking off? or moving at all in any direction of my choosing? or at all? Why am I still single? How does eHarmony work anyway? Why am I without active or real connection to youth ministry? Does God still have a plan for my life that involves any of these things? Did I hear that wrong? Am I still hearing God?

Am I still hearing God? That is probably the first real question I have asked in months. It is a life-giving question that leads to another question for me- What is God doing right now, and how am I supposed to respond or be involved? Since we live by the Spirit, let us keep in step with the Spirit. 

I have all this free time. I am in the midst of many mid-level changes. No, they are not the changes that I desire, but this is where I am. Since there is no such thing as wasted time with The Lord, then what do I do with the circumstances that are right in front of me? God, what are You doing and what should I do? I have not been listening to You, not for months. I have been too occupied with wondering why I am not where I think I ought to be and making sure You know that I am not happy. How foolish I have been- how wrong to stop listening, to stop seeking You for who You are already are and not who I want You to be. You will not be changed, manipulated, or cowed. You Are who You Are. I love that about You and I love You for it. 

I have been wrong, and I have put all my energies into the wrong places for the past few months, maybe even years. I have been asking all the wrong questions. 

Luke 2:1-40 Human Reaction to the Supernatural

Luke 2:1-40

I am having a hard time with this whole thing- angles and prophets and people told what will happen before they die. I realize that is a bit the theme of this chapter, but, really? Really? There are three distinct stories that mingle the natural and the supernatural, three sketches of responses and reactions.

The shepherds are just going about their blue-collar jobs in the middle of the night when a group of angels appears in the sky. I know that would shock me and get my attention for sure. I can't remember the last time angels appeared at my job, let alone singing and announcing that the savior of their nation has been born and is in a manger not too far away. If there had not been angels I am sure they would have thought there was just a crazy person wandering around. I know that I would have thought that. And, to their credit, they go to see. I mean it when I say it is to their credit. It would have been easy to either right the whole thing off or to have been so stuck on the angles singing and announcing things that there would have been plenty of reason to stay- but they got it, they left and went to see this baby. I admire that.

Simeon is one of my favorite characters in scripture, and I love that God tells him he will see the Messiah

before he dies. There is so much mystery in that! Why would God do that? Especially because Simeon is old, and does not appear to do anything with the information other than rejoice and prophesy. Of course, that is enough, but it feels like not quite enough. It is the Messiah, the Savior, the birth of the person at the center of so many hopes, dreams, and promises. So, really, just a statement in the temple? Shouldn't there be a conference and teachings and books and podcasts and telecasts of this event? I suppose it was big enough that Peter knew about it, told Mark and now it is in this document passed down from generation to generation. That is something. And he says amazing things- he seems to really get it. "My eyes have seen your Salvation... a light for revelation to the Gentiles and the glory of Israel." He gets what so many others seem to have missed at various points- that Jesus is the point of Israel and that this is a message for the whole world, the glory of Israel for the Gentiles.

Anna, like Simeon has a more subtle, internal prompting. The shepherds had a concert in the sky, Simeon is moved by the Spirit, and Anna is already there because she is often there. Here are three very different circumstances under which people received news of what God was doing. I would like to think that I am more like Anna or Simeon and that I can respond to the move of the Spirit or see God in my daily life in such a way that I would see His actions and piece of His plans. I am far more likely to need a concert in the sky - especially these days. Part of the reason I am bogging about Luke is to give myself some kind of accountability to read Scripture. I am that rusty, that far from being anything like Anna or Simeon.

32 and Single - A response to "How I Know My Wife Married the "Wrong" Person"

A few days ago, I read a blog post about marriage "How I Know My Wife Married the "Wong" Person." He brings up several good points, and started a great discussion. Let me be another voice in this discussion Yes, I think that there is a powerful myth that one should find their soul mate and I agree that this myth needs to be debunked. Yes, I think this myth can be a contributing factor to why people are waiting longer to get married. It is not, however, the only story. Tyler says "singles (and married people) are searching for a super-spouses that simply don't exist." He also mentions that this expectation is contributing to later and fewer marriages. I have not looked into that research myself, so I am just assuming that is true. As with all research - that is not true in every case.

I am 32 and single. I want to be married. I am sure there are many contributing factors to my current relationship status. The search for a super-spouse is one of them, but, by no means, the primary one. At many points I bought into the idea that I am looking for a soul mate rather than a flawed, lovable, respectable, person. Absolutely I have done that, and it is likely that I missed some quality men because I was in that state of mind. But that is just one factor -one that I have become aware of and I am working on correcting. Let me tell you a little more about this journey for me, and to unpack a few more of the reasons I am not married- at least a few of the reasons I can see.


Desire to be with someone who can do the work of marriage. The more I learn about the reality of marriage, the more I realize that marriage is full of hard work. I have yet to meet someone with whom I can see myself doing this level of work. I know that some of that is my fault- I waited until my late 20s to go to counseling and learn what it is to see and sort out my own dysfunction. Doing the work of marriage requires a level of self-knowledge and sacrifice that I can only think about doing with someone else who knows how to identify, own, and begin the process of sorting through their own junk. I want to be with someone who is capable of the work of marriage. I don't want a perfect person, just man who is willing to admit his dysfunction and who is willing to be with me as I work on mine. In my experience this commitment to emotional and mental health is deeply lacking in the church. I am not saying such men don't exist- they certainly do. I am saying that in my experience they are rare, and I am willing to hold out for one.

Simple math- fewer opportunities. I have not been asked on a date by a Christian man. I don't say this to garner pity or to throw Christian men under the bus. I know many godly, bold men who pursue women well. This has not yet happened in my life. I also know plenty of other woman who could echo that refrain. One of the effects of elevating marriage is that dating becomes an institution with too much pressure. I can only imagine that the already intimidating task of asking someone out becomes so much harder when marriage is looming somewhere around the 5th date.

In his book, After the Baby Boomers:How Twenty and Thirty Somethings Are Shaping the Future of American Religion, Robert Wuthnow states "Church attenders age 21 through 45 are disproportionately female." He goes on to unpack those numbers, noting that the majority of church attenders in this age group are married. He gives many more details, but the fact is that there are less men around to meet. Less men to meet, less opportunities. Simple math.


I am sure there are other reasons people are getting married less frequently and later in life. I know there are more reasons for me, but these are the two that popped to mind. More significantly, these are two that have less to do with wanting a super spouse. One of my favorite things about blogging is that it is essentially a giant conversation, so I wanted to add my voice to this conversation and share a different point of view.

sometimes good things hurt

Sometimes it hurts to press into a good thing. I want to stay at this church. It is alive and tender, and it is a healing place. And I want to be actively involved in youth ministry. I cannot have both. The tension pulls at my heart, and I need guidance. Your voice, Your answer is what I want and dread. Neither choice is complete, but the one You have lead me to is full.
I wince at Your compassion; I am tender and unable to hold back the tears that come when my pain is not hidden from the soft, knowing touch of the Spirit who is my shepherd. Though I still feel shy and unknown by people around me, I hear Your voice, leading me by still waters, restoring my heart.

Now I am faced with a greater challenge to step forward yet again with that internal courage to share with others - to enter into this church body.

Church Search- Church Without Teenagers?

Every time I see Josh Garrels, I walk away with something new in my spirit, some way that my soul was challenged, filled, or usually full to bursting. Annie and I saw him and Mason Jar Music Sunday at the Athenaeum Theater, which is a lovely venue and reminds me of the Goodman Theater in Waukegan. Half of the show, a feature-length film- The Sea and In Between, ended with a call to enter into other's passions and gifts, and therefore enter into each other's joy. What a beautiful, godly call to community.

That seems like a gap in my life. Am I entering into the joy of those around me? Am I sharing myself in the way that I ought to be? What are my passions and am I sharing them?

I am passionate about teenagers and about youth ministry. I am currently without an outlet for those passions, and I feel like small pieces of myself are withering. I ache to walk with adolescents as they discover their thoughts about God, truth, themselves, community, and spiritual reality. I have been volunteering for over ten years and this is the longest stretch I have gone without being actively involved in some form of youth ministry. Here is the kicker- there are 2, count them, 2 adolescents in the church I have been attending. 

Can I really contribute to this body? Since some very deep parts of myself are enlivened in youth ministry, does that mean that I won't be able to fully contribute by listening deeply to others? And what about sharing my joy? Will I really be alive and awake and bringing all of who I am to this particular church? Am I able to give all of who I am when so many parts of me already feel atrophied? 

Do I leave what I am building to start the searching part over, looking for a church where I can get involved in their youth ministry?  The thought of going back to the searching process is heartbreaking; it was so grueling and hollow. Are there other ways to bring more of who I am? Is there a challenge in this for me? A growth edge? How long might that take and what does that mean in the interim? I can't know what is next and it has already been a process to get here, How much longer do I want to be a volunteer without helping to form and change the way they are doing youth ministry? And how long do I wait? 

Sigh. If I am not actively involved in youth ministry I fear I am walking away from part of my calling and functional design. That seems like a loss not only for me, but for whatever it is that the Lord is going to do with this seed that falls to the ground and dies. So if I need to walk out my calling, where does this particular church body fit in? I really like this church and there is something alive, and good, and nurturing  and challenging here. 

But can I enter in, really enter in?

Church Search - A new layer of questions

Even though I have been attending the same church for a few months now I still feel in many ways that I am without a church home. I still feel the loss of knowing and being known by those around me. I feel the strangeness of not knowing what to expect from week to week and where I fit into that rhythm. I find that it is still challenging to remember people's names, let alone have a meaty theological conversation or pray for one another. I miss being an established and involved church member.

It is challenging to get plugged in at a new church, and I find myself asking if I really want to go through that work. It is work -I have to keep putting myself out there, and there is the natural in between stage before there is interaction of depth. And it is work to get through that stage, and I am not sure I am going to stay long term. And there are no teenagers in this church. That is a fairly big obstacle.

Since I am not plugged in, it would be easy to leave and just go somewhere else, but that is a wearying thought. How on earth do people switch churches? How do people get through this with their sense of Christian community in tact? Or do they? I am already tempted to throw in the towel and I have fairly good social skills, and a healthy measure of boldness. I have to gear up every week to try to break into what is going on in the church. People are very friendly, and easy to talk to, for which I am very thankful. But what I am really craving in a church is to serve and to grow with others. And that takes time and effort. Is it worth it here? Would it be worth it somewhere else?

Liturgy and Duplicity - Palm Sunday

We came into the sanctuary singing, waiving our palm branches and declaring "Hosanna, Save Us!" There was joy. Ten minutes later,  we read about the betrayal of Christ, and we yelled out "Crucify Him! Release Barabbas!" Our Deacon said "You might well be wondering what happened. You might feel jarred, and I urge you not to rush past that feeling." One of the things that I find most freeing about liturgy is that it allows me space to bring so many of the facets of my relationship with God. Because I can, indeed, in one morning, enter joyfully into the reality that Christ is King and I can turn my back on Him, cursing. I find the liturgy creates space for many sides of my nature as a sinful believer.

I find that when I have space to acknowledge my own frailty and failing that it is easier to choose to live in love. When I can honestly acknowledge my own inclinations towards evil and selfishness, it is easier to make the choice to turn from them. Previously, I felt a need to eradicate them and there was a tyrannical element to this need. I felt I had to make it so that there was no evil in me to turn from, so I found myself focusing on the sin. When I can see my sin for what it is it gives me the space to acknowledge that it is mine and that I am in some way bound to it, and that I need Christ in order to be free.

And I do. Come, Lord Jesus, and take away the sins of the world. The body of Christ, broken for me. Thanks be to God. The blood of Christ, spilled for me. Thanks be to God. 

Lent Failure?

Is lent about failure? We will fail, not just at giving things up, but at our own attempts at being remotely worthy of God. Maybe that is part of why we ought to give things up, not because we should punish ourselves, but because attempting to give something up shows us just how broken we are. In the past I have viewed lent as a competition with my sinful nature. What can I give up? Can I master this part of myself for 40 days? If I failed, then I just gave up altogether.

But what if the point is to fail? When I fail, I run into the reality that I am broken, that I cannot, in fact, master any one part of my sinful self for 40 days. I need a rescuer.

What do you think? Is lent about failure?

You might want to check out this post in light of the last post about lent.

My First Ash Wednesday

This evening I participated in my first Ash Wednesday service. It is so lovely to have the space to come face to face with my humanity and with the extravagant, blunt reality of the gospel.  The woman who spoke summarized it well when she said that we are both very small and very significant.

I felt small. I felt the weight of my own brokenness  I cannot come to God, I am not even capable of fully wanting to come to God on my own. Yet, I yearn to be completely loved and completely forgiven, but not to repent. I don't want to pay the price involved in really acknowledging how I have sinned. The last thing I really want to do is to own that I have neglected to forgive others, to care for those around me, or to honor God the way He deserves to be honored. This requires facing the knowledge that I am small, so very small. So small, in fact, that I cannot even face the depths of my own failure because it is too much affront to the comfort I think I am entitled to. I think that if I try hard enough that I might be able to humble myself just enough to really repent. Then the reading from Isaiah breaks through loud and clear.

Is that the fast that I choose, a day to humble oneself?Is it to bow the head like a bulrush and lie in sackcloth and ashes? Will you call this a fast, a day acceptable to the Lord?

I am small, indeed. But here I am anyway, drawn to the tenderness of truth and love that reaches out to confront me with the reality that I am wretchedly stuck, but not without great hope. I want to come to the Lord that demands something deeper and more than my efforts at understanding my own sin. I want to come and be loved and healed and set free, but I am just so incapable of doing even that. My thoughts are given shape by the psalmist.

Indeed, I was born guilty, a sinner when my mother conceived me. Turn your face from me, Oh God. You desire truth in the inward being, therefore teach me wisdom in my secret heart. Purge me with hyssop, and I shall be clean; wash me and I shall be whiter than snow. 

Jesus. Jesus who offers to take on all my sin, to become my sin because He knows that I am that broken. In that invitation there is love - love that shows me that I am created. I am a being that is temporary, dependent. This reality breaks the illusions that I can in any way make myself ready for lent. It reminds me that the great freedom of the gospel is that Christ loved me when I was still His enemy, and that today is no different. I am small. And I am not without great worth. I am significant. Why else would the creator reach out and love, at great personal cost, the created? I must mean something. We must mean something.

These two realities must be kept together. To be small only is to berate myself and to never see the value that God places on me. To be small only can, I think, lead to the danger of legalism. To be significant only is to elevate myself to a place where I am in danger of forgetting the need created by my brokenness. I experienced so much joy in these two things being paired together so beautifully in the service. I am small, wretched, and stuck; and I am precious, worth a great price, and well-loved. I am ashes, and to ashes I shall return and I repent and trust Christ. I think that I am starting to see why this is the beginning of a season, there is much to unpack and absorb.

Without a Church Home

I will just put it out there. Under the best circumstances possible, I left my church. So, I am out there floating from church to church week to week and I have no clue what I am doing. I am not sure if I am looking for a new church home, or just looking. So far it has been about 2 months since I left my previous church home of 13 years. At first I was excited to get out there and explore other types of churches and to potentially find other like-minded people who have maybe been the liberal person in a conservative environment. And I am still energized by that possibility and by the possibility of fellowshipping somewhere that is a better fit for me at this time in my life.

But, already, there are things that I would not expect. I am feeling the strain of not having a church home. I have an amazing small group, supportive friends, and many people in my life who actively hold me accountable, walk with me, pray with me, and live my Christian life with me. But, this, I am learning, is not the same as a church home. I am not all the way sure what that means yet, but it is not the same. I am craving the weekly experience of the same group of believers in a format that has some predictability. This stands in tension with the desire that I have to get out, explore, learn, and see what is to be seen in church in other iterations. So, I am not sure what to do and where to go. I have a list of churches to visit, but I find that I need to readjust my game plan.

To do what? instead of what? I am not even sure. But I think that I need to consider a different approach other than a  new church every week. This is wearing on me and it has not been that long.

This is what I did instead of sleeping

This evening I spent and hour and a half driving around, thinking, listening to music. The roads are a glorious outlet at night when they are partially empty and accompanied by a full mind and a great playlist. Sometimes there is a song or a group of songs that hits the spot like a food you have been craving, only better. Music is such a great vehicle (pun intended) for thinking and processing. This evening I let me myself cry, pray, rant and rave, yell, and, to the best of my ability, give the whole thing over to the Lord. Music was essential to this process. The ins and outs of each song became a train to take my internal world where it needed to go. I love this about music.

The playlist:

Take a Picture- Filter

Save Me From Myself-Jone Foreman

Up All Night (Frankie Millar Goes to Hollywood) - Counting Crows

Bite Hard- Franz Ferdinand

Ramble On- Led Zeppelin

Lucid Dreams- Franz Ferdinand

White Lily No Soul- Helicopters

I Wish I was a Girl- Counting Crows

Keep Me in Mind- Zac Brown Band

Notion- Kings of Leon

Over and Over- Hot Chip

This Girl- Punch Brothers

Call It What You Want- Foster the People

Farther Along- Josh Garrels

Ring Them Bells- Sarah Jarosz

Clara- Punch Brothers

Love in Japan- Coldplay

Curtigh- Punch Brothers

Orpheo Looks Back- Andrew Bird

The Daylight- Andrew Belle

Francis Chan, Shamrock Shakes, and Fear

 You must watch this video in order to get the most of this post. Did you do it yet? Do it. Good. 

Saying that I don’t think Christians should live out of fear is all well and good until it means that I have to be weak, vulnerable, and exposed to other people. That scares me.

I am filled with much fear. I am seeing it more and more these days. I saw it this afternoon when Jordan called me out about being contrary about shamrock shakes (more on this below). Again today when I was trying to defend why I don’t like Peyton Manning. I saw it when I dug my heels in about not reading Blue Like Jazz or watching The Passion. I am fear filled. I am that person clinging to the balance beam. Worse, I pride myself on not being that person and so I am clinging to my balance beam yelling at everyone else that they should not be clinging to theirs. Ah. foolish, wayward, loved child. I can feel the Father shaking His head, sighing, and looking at me with love, affection, and a heart of correction.

I am afraid to go to Him, too. He changes me. He changes you. And He will certainly ask me to get off my balance beam and be vulnerable with others. I can feel the challenge to walk forward into being honest with people when I am unsure. Today, today it was the smallest, most shallow thing: a shamrock shake.

That is right. I had a moral conviction in the midst of a conversation about a shake from McDonald’s. (this is just more proof that the Holy Spirit must be real) I have had one, and it was not good, and I am irrationally gun shy about having another because they might be AMAZING! If they are, then I will have to have them all the time and I already have a not so small Diet Coke problem; and this would be yet another McDonald’s problem.(for those who don't know, Diet Coke is just a dollar at McDonald's. awesome. and terrible.) So, instead of admitting that, or even instead of just letting myself feel my fear, I covered it up with the desire to be right. Right that shamrock shakes are not good, because if they are not good, then I cannot be addicted to them, and therefore cannot be part of the hype about them, and therefore will somehow be protected all alone in my “I don’t like shamrock shakes and this is some kind of safe identity” place.

My own sin and weakness are dripping from my pores. The point is that I was not being wholly myself, and not really available to my co-workers and friends. I want to me more open to those around me, to heed the call of God to stand on the balance beam. I think that God is calling me to be open to being influenced by others when I am unsure, and to be honest where I am weak, or don’t have all the information .He is asking me to lay down my need to be right.

This is something I am going to have to lay down again and again as it is so deeply engrained in me. This is one way I was hard-wired to be safe in my family. If you were right, then you were in some way safe from criticism and I have absorbed that, taken it in, and made it my own in all of its green-ice-cream-resisting glory. It seems like there are dozens of ways to grow in this everywhere I look: say the affectionate thing I am thinking, say that I don’t know the answer, be open to being corrected in public, be okay with someone else having the spotlight, be okay with being in the spot light, give generously of my food and beverages (seriously, this is basically a love language for me), invite people to join me in my home, invite people to join me in other places I love (the Firkin, Caribou, Wrigley Field) , go with others to places they love, let other people’s praise and criticism affect me, wear more bright colors, sing more often and more loudly, and let myself be convicted by the Spirit.

First: try a shamrock shake with Jordan and Krystal. Yes, it sounds shallow, but it is more than that for me, and I should embrace that. There is yet another growth point- don’t shy away from depth in daily activities.

Oh man, here we go.

Who has bewitched me?

I forgot that God is big. Of course, I have been giving lip service to this, who doesn't? But, really in my heart of hearts, I have been giving in to despair. Despair is cunning. Certainly God is not big enough to actually rescue people from depression, broken homes, abusive situations, heartbreak, or a bad relationship. People need to trust God to help them, for sure, and they can't do it without Him, I know I can't, but people need to put in the effort and pull themselves up, do some hard work and then God will help them. I can't believe that I forgot, I actually forgot.

This thought pattern worked its way into ministry. In times and places where I should have been giving a situation over the Spirit, I was fretting, worrying, and brainstorming about ways to equip students to do some of the hard work to get themselves where they need to be. These are good things to do, but not, in an of itself, Biblical ministry. Biblical ministry flows from a heart that is being transformed into the image of Christ. Equipping people for hard internal work is only ministry insofar as it comes from a heart responsive to the Spirit and in line with what He is already doing. Somewhere along the way I stopped believing that God could step in and change complicated human situations. Of course, I did not say that nor did I think that I believed that, but I did. Belief is born out by actions, so my lack of trust, lack of inviting God into the situation, lack of expecting Him to work is fruit of  my believing that God was not going to act.

This transition has been so gradual that I can't tell you when I pulled out of this, or even when I noticed it was there. But, I can see it now. I can see it because I am at the end of my ability in so many situations. I have brainstormed and thought and counseled my way right to the end of everything I can brainstorm and think and counsel, and I have no other choice but to pray. Not just to pray because that is what I am supposed to do in ministry, but pray because I have nowhere else to go. And how many times to we do just that? Use real prayer as a last resort. Come on, girl, you know better than this. Well, obviously I don't know better, because here I am, remembering after some desperate praying that God is big enough to change lives and hearts.

I found in my desperation that God is acting and that He, of course, never stopped. I feel like the Galatians. Paul says to them "You foolish Galatians, who has bewitched you? let me ask you this: Did you receive the Spirit by works of the law or by hearing through faith? Havin gbegun with the Spirit are you now ending with the flesh? Did you experience so many things in vain- if it really was in vain?" Harsh words, but they are so applicable for me so very often. I am always needing to be reminded to act in faith and in step with the Spirit and not with my own power. What is most encouraging to me is that in my desperation I am internally stepping back and seeing if anything really is changing. And in that stepping back there is so much freedom. This is my place- waiting for God to work, and in the mean time loving others, seeking God and giving as solid advice as I know how. How encouraging to remember that God is big enough to really change our lives, our circumstances and ourselves. And how foolish of me to forget. I was only running myself ragged when I could have been investing in the Spirit's work in my life and the lives of others. I wonder if trusting in the Spirit is ministry. I know that it feel like ministry when others have done it for me. I have such a short memory, but God is good and gracious and knows my weakness. He know that I am foolish and He is crazy about me anyway.

It is so much more energizing to minister from here. Here, where I am not working from my own power, but where I am listening and waiting and expecting God to move because I need Him to move. I have much more energy to wait for a real Savior than to try to make a solution myself. I have much more energy to invest in the reality life through the Spirit than to try to push life out of myself and others. Certainly, God calls us to work. I think that as Christians we have a call to tend to our lives, our emotions, our relationships and our internal worlds in a way that does not allow for sin to go unchecked. People are messy and broken and sinful. And I firmly believe that the Spirit calls us to the mat to face this reality and work on it. I am an advocate for counseling, loving confrontation, and the hard work that is involved in self-awareness, and building and maintaining healthy relationships. But I think that I let the discouragement of not seeing results from these things in the time I think they should have been there take away the trust that God is capable of changing people. Failure is not the best way ever to be reminded that God is big, but I am happy to be here.

Recovering from Travel Season

"Well, you pretty much have the pick of the place. Where do you want to sit?"
Jessalyn, excitedly cutting off the youngish waiter, "Well... Oh! Can we sit over there in the crevice!?"
"Only if you refer to it as a crevice for the rest of your life."

Ah! I have missed Jessalyn dearly, and this is just one of the many reasons why. The youngish waiter walked us over to the alcove of a random restuarant in Reading, PA, halfway between my hotel in King of Prussia, PA and her home in Harrisburg. The crevice is a converted elevator shaft with an elevator permantly suspended 10 feet above our heads. It was the perfect setting for a 3 hour conversation to draw me out of my travel funk. Listening to Jess talk about her life and all the changes and shifts therein was the perfect balm for my isolated soul. I think that the Lord gave us that time together, and one thing that it did for me was to open up the part of me that tends to shut down during travel season.

She is so honest about how she is doing- on many, many levels at the same time. And in a way that only Jessalyn could, she spoke in animated, colorful, joyful terms about her spiritual life, her romantic life, and her realtional life. The conversation ricochetted all over that crevice, and I felt like I was being bathed in frienship. Is this a little dramatic? Yes. But, Jess and I are a little dramtic and that level of expression and connection was exaclty what I needed. I was able to get a jump start on the reentry to a normal schedule and long-standing, intimate frienships.

So, now I am home. I have restocked my pantry, cleaned my bathroom, slept in my own bed, showered and not had to dry things off and pack them up for the next hotel room. I have seen my roommate, watched a move, adjusted my fantasy football roster from my home computer, and even started laundry. Happy Sigh. In my best Samwise Gamgee "Well, I am back."

PA in the fall: thoughts on isolation

I sit in the dinning room of my friends Nate and Jill Roach, and I am not in the least alone. Nate is just in the other room, doing something on the computer, Jill is upstairs presumably taking a nap, and there is a small, crema-colored kitten wandering around. I am quite enjoying the shared quiet. I am here for a few days as part of a recruiting trip for TIU. This trip is the end of travel season, a time of college fairs, high school visits, crch visits, hand shaking, chit-chatting, and trips both in and out of state. Often I am surrounded by people, and yet this is the season in my year in which I feel the most lonely.

Dozens of surface level, transaction base connections each day string into weeks without many substantive conversations, and without really connecting with others. There is a guardedness to the communication of admissions counselors when they are on the road. No matter what else we do, we are representing our schools, and in that setting there is a level of reserve that can't be dropped. College fair circuits are the easiest places to make friends. Imagine a setting where there are dozens of highly friendly, socially capable people all around the same age. And now imagine that they are all in the same profession and that they see each other multiple times per day. See? Easy.

On the one hand, this is one of my favorite things about being an admissions counselor. It's like camp: there is a small number of admissions counselors sharing the same experience. And I love meeting new people and making connections at colleges all over the country. I have formed some very deep and real friendships on the road. I am so very grateful for those people. On the other hand, I spend hours alone in the car, in airports, at coffee shops, and hotels. Conversations in this setting tend to be surface level and task-focused. In the middle of this I find myself both lonely and fiercely independent. When you are traveling there is permission to disengage from the relationships in your life. I don't have to hang out with people or make it to regular commitments, I don't have to call or email or Facebook. I am gone. It is empowering to travel the country alone - to explore cities, regions, and states; to seek out new coffee shops and restaurants; to meet new people and make new connections; to bodly go where no TIU rep has gone before- alone.

Here is the really surprising thing: It is challening for me to settle back into intimate relationships when travels season is over. I crave intimacy when I am traveling, but shutting down accepting the reciprocal presence of another in my life is one of my first reactions when I return. Why is this, I wonder? Why, even now as I sit with Jill and Nate, do I struggle to access my own internal world? I am not sure what it will look like, but I anticipate some kind of reentry into the close relationships in my life.

I have seen all of your wedding photos

I have never met you, I don't know you, but I guarantee that if you have posted your wedding photos on facebook, then I have looked at each and every one of them. Yes, my friends, the internet is public. Anyone can look at the photos you place there. Even with privacy settings, they might know someone who knows you. I know becasue I do this all the time - I love wedding photos, and you put them on the internet- party for me! But don't you see the problem this creates? All of the internet is public, not just your wedding photos. You may have noticed that this is the first thing I have posted in weeks.

I have been avoiding the blog these days because I keenly aware that it is public. Straight up public. And while, yes, that was the idea when I started a blog, I feel intimidated by the immensity of that reality. Who is out there? And who is reading all of my thoughts? Are they up to snuff? While I care about what others think of my writing, my ideas, and the heart behind them, I have been crippled by my own self-doubt. This is in no way connected soley to my blog.

I have also been feeling this way about ministry. I want to do everything so amazingly well that people want to hear how I did it, and then I can have the best platform ever to share my passion for youth ministry. I want to make 12 dozen phone calls a week to all small group leaders and all students. I want to be able to do everything so, so well that I can win the war against my own doubts once and for all. Those doubts are what really is at the heart of wanting to be the best youth worker that ever lived, EVER. This is the embarassing battle that has been going on in me. You see, if I was bloggin about those things, then they would be out there, like your wedding pictures. I love wedding pictures, and I look at the decorations, colors, dresses, suits, tuxes and I make a mental list of things I like and don't like. Don't you? And therein lies my problem with the blog - are people making lists about the things I am putting on the itnernet? I would be. Back to the gnawing self-doubts.

Not blogging and the driving desire to over perform in youth ministry are the same root for me: insecurity and the inability to hide myself in a loving God. I know that when I can accept my weaknesses that the Spirit will be there in them, and will show all His strength and that will be so much better. What I need to do is to bring this insecurity and need for affirmation and achievement to the Lord, He is always encouraging me, pointing out what I am really good at, and reminding me of where I am broken. He is the answer to the self-doubt that has kept me from writing and that is driving me to perform in ministry.

It is applying and injesting the knowledge that is the hard part. Knowing that God's tender, open, loving heart is the answer to my insecurity does not make it all that much easier to walk into that love. It helps, a little. What really seems to help for me is confession. This weekend, on a youth ministry leadership retreat, I brought these fears to light. And I was met with understanding, compassion, and prayer. I don't know what this struggle will look like going forward. I have no idea. I hope that I will be able to remember both that everything I do is flawed, just like those whom I respect the most. I hope to be able to let the compassion, understanding, and truth that I encountered this weekend to encourage me to continue to bring my insecurity and desire for fame into the light. It is there that I have found the most comfort and the most humility for my pride. Because I tasted the reality that we are all just broken people doing the best that we can to serve God and love teenagers. That is all we can be.

So, I am putting this on the internet, out there, in public. I am hoping it will serve as a reminder for me that I am broken.

Hope

We often concieve of hope as an empty glass we wish were full. But hope is not empty. Hope is an activity. It is more like hiking a mountian than a glass half-full. I am by no means an expert on hiking, but I have been on enough trails to get the general idea. At some point during a hike I inevitably get frustrated. This is hard, Why am I doing this again? I am so out of shape, my lungs are burning, my legs hurt and my poor, flatlander body cannot get enough air at a mile and a half above sea level. One of my greatest challenges (besides generally being out of shape) is to get to a point where I find a reason to fight through all of the pain and frustration. SOMETHING has to motivate me to get off the rock, back on the trail, and through the next set of obstacles. Ususally that something is the view.  There is nothing quite like the view from the top of a mountian, and usually the desire for that view that drives me through the uphill climb, and one more switchback. When I arrive, it is even more valuable and breathtaking because of the effort. In some way I have owned a part of the mountian through my toil; the view belongs to me and I to it.

Summiting the mountian is, of course, the best-case scenario. My Dad, who is a seasoned and accomplished hiker has rules for climing. "A day in the wilderness is never wasted."  "There is no view like the one from the top." My Dad knows that sometimes we don't make it. We may not experience the thing we are hoping for, but it is rewarding to go through the effort anyway. So, also, is Biblical hope. Hope fights through opposition and has its own rewards. When we hope in something, we are letting go of the present reality with one hand  and reaching towards the coming, hoped-for reality with the other. We pass up on somethng immediate for something not yet actual. We put our time, effort, energy and recources into that something that is not yet actual because we hope that it will be actual. This is hard to describe because most of this effort is interal and abstract, but it is real effort nonetheless. The Biblical idea of hope is not wishful thinking, it is an active investment in a reality that God has promised. I don't just sit and wait for the fulfillment of the promise, I am motivated enough to invest in it.

Hope fights through opposition and has its own rewards. Hope must acknowledge both dissapointment and possibility as real and valid. It must wrestle equally with both and be swayed ever just the tiniest bit more by possibility. (It must be so much easier for an optimist to hope) Those who hope lets themselves be motivated enough by the promise of God that they move towards that possibility.

I am greatly encouraged by this. And I have to fight for hope itself to have space in my heart because it takes energy, time, and investment. These days I have to move aside despair, self-pity, and pride to make room for hope. No, hope is not passive. Instead, the call of the Spirit is to get up, face the trail ahead of me, and keep walking because the view is worth the effort. And in so doing I am both getting closer to the summit and also reaping the rewards of a day in the wilderness. Hope, my friends, is active, and it is far from empty.

Knocked Down: Transparency

This is part 4 of series about being spiritually knocked on my ass, and what a journey it has been thus far! A large part of what the Lord is showing me is that I am too closed, too judgemental, too self-protective. (is that even a word?) Some of the things that have been simultaneously the most challenging and the most rewarding have been the interactions from others based on what I have posted thus far. I guess that I knew it might start a dialogue- isn't that part of the point of a blog? But, what I did not expect was to still feel so exposed and vulnerable when this part of my journey is brought up in person.

Its funny that I did not see that coming- it makes sense that I would still feel the emotions about what I wrote when someone brings it up in person. Of course, I knew when I put all this on the internet that is was, well, on the internet, and that anyone could read it.(and all of my previous rants about facebook being public come back to haunt me) But I did not know what that meant, not really.  I am surprised that it is vulnerable for me to be present about my brokeness with the person in front of me. This is something that until now I have only done with a few people- people that have worked the hardest to understand me, people that I was certain would accept my mess.

Many of you have commented on my courage in posting about this particular spiritual journey, and I am very thankful for the feedback and encouragement. I think that I expected that only those whom I have previously shared this type of honesty would respond. Instead, I am walking through interactions and responses that feel risky to me. I am not certain how people are responding to what I have shared, or if my mess is safe with them, but there we are, having the conversation anyway. I am learning that I can trust more people than I thought. I am learning to trust that I am welcome with the Lord, and that He will take care of me. I think that this opening to a wider range of people is exactly what the Lord was after. I am enjoying the new conversations, new connections, and getting to hear, in turn, about the journey of others. I am enjoying this wider, fuller view of Church.  Please bear with me as I continue to toddle through this new thing the Lord is teaching me.