My previous post was thought about while running. I ran and then went to Morning Prayer. Part of the Gospel reading really spoke to me.
John 6:26-27
Very truly, I tell you, you are looking for me, not because you saw signs, but because you ate your fill of the loaves. Do not work for the food that perishes, but for the food that endures for eternal life, which the Son of Man will give you."
Am I only looking for God when I've got my fill of all my "activities"? Do I "fit" Him into my schedule? Is part of finding God, finding me? I think the answer to the last question is yes. I fully believe we see God in each other. I think the more authentic we are to each other and to ourselves, the more easily God is seen, so yes finding myself, my purpose, and taking care of myself enables both me and others to see God through me.
Food that perishes versus food for eternal life. Funny that I was crying over pancakes and cereal this morning--which is more important what I serve or that I serve it with love?
I'm not going to pretend that now I'm there--I can release everything and be fine, but I will say that I'm aware--I'm in process; not entirely sure what the "right" answer is; I am sure I'll continue to worry about it, but I hope that will lessen. And I am sure that when I stop being caught up in myself and my worries that I will more easily see and hear. I'm listening for God and He's speaking to me. He's speaking to me through my prayerful run, the Gospel, friends and Chris and I'm listening.
24 March, 2009
Which?
Full of questions this morning and no answers. Would the children rather..
1. have a bowl of cold cereal for breakfast and a mother in seminary and later working full time
2. have a hot breakfast cooked by a mother in tears and stressed out
3. have a hot breakfast and a full time stay at home mother
Who am I really doing this all for
seminary?
making hot breakfasts (and home made treats)?
Who does it matter to? What's really important?
1. have a bowl of cold cereal for breakfast and a mother in seminary and later working full time
2. have a hot breakfast cooked by a mother in tears and stressed out
3. have a hot breakfast and a full time stay at home mother
Who am I really doing this all for
seminary?
making hot breakfasts (and home made treats)?
Who does it matter to? What's really important?
18 March, 2009
Chips and all
I have a favorite coffee cup (actually there are two but they look exactly alike). I bought these cups in Athens GA in 2000 and have moved them all over the country and they were part of the very small amount of kitchen items I moved to England and back. I love them--bought at Steinmart but they are BIG; hold a lot and have cheery blue and yellow flowers on them. I remember buying them. I had four children four and under, I was exhausted. I saw the cups and thought "not only can I have a lot of coffee without having to refill, but they're also so cheery. It will be a wonderful way to get up in the morning."
You can imagine after all these moves what they look like--quite chipped both paint and some around the lip. In fact one has been glued back together, but thanks goodness for super glue--still holds coffee--still works.
This morning as I'm drinking my coffee and looking at this mug it started me thinking. I love this mug; I wake up every morning eager to drink my coffee from it, but it's chipped, not nearly as pretty, and frankly wasn't expensive. I could very well choose to just replace it. BUT I have a history with this mug. I can sit here and think about many mornings good and bad drinking from this mug. It's part of my history, part of my life. Not only do I not want to replace it, I don't want to fix it--it tells a stor, my story.
Aren't we as people like that? We start relationships, bright and cheery with no "chips", but over time, the relationship starts to have chips and to fade some (think faded blue jeans--aren't they the most comfortable to wear?). We begin to see each others chips and the areas in our lives where we're not so bright and cheery. The parts of each other that aren't so beautiful. But that's true love, that's lasting love--still wanting to be a part of each others day, each others lives and still loving each other deeply chips and all. Still excited to be with each other. Sometimes we need to help each other--glue parts back together so we still "work", but sometimes we just need to continue to meet each day, chips exposed--sometimes we don't need to be fixed, we just need to continue to be loved chips and all.
You can imagine after all these moves what they look like--quite chipped both paint and some around the lip. In fact one has been glued back together, but thanks goodness for super glue--still holds coffee--still works.
This morning as I'm drinking my coffee and looking at this mug it started me thinking. I love this mug; I wake up every morning eager to drink my coffee from it, but it's chipped, not nearly as pretty, and frankly wasn't expensive. I could very well choose to just replace it. BUT I have a history with this mug. I can sit here and think about many mornings good and bad drinking from this mug. It's part of my history, part of my life. Not only do I not want to replace it, I don't want to fix it--it tells a stor, my story.
Aren't we as people like that? We start relationships, bright and cheery with no "chips", but over time, the relationship starts to have chips and to fade some (think faded blue jeans--aren't they the most comfortable to wear?). We begin to see each others chips and the areas in our lives where we're not so bright and cheery. The parts of each other that aren't so beautiful. But that's true love, that's lasting love--still wanting to be a part of each others day, each others lives and still loving each other deeply chips and all. Still excited to be with each other. Sometimes we need to help each other--glue parts back together so we still "work", but sometimes we just need to continue to meet each day, chips exposed--sometimes we don't need to be fixed, we just need to continue to be loved chips and all.
07 March, 2009
Comment on Myself
It occurs to me reading back over my posts that I often seem very negative and even depressed. Please know this is not the case--I think deeply and yes there are times I'm down, but for the most part I just want to work out thoughts that go through my mind; I leave them here and skip merrily back to my life of wife, mother, and seminarian!
Perspective, Power and Theology
I just returned from a run listening to a BBC podcast and it got me questionning not only the issue discussed, child protection, but also the more general issue of perspective and power. Two years ago a diocese in Ireland was found to have a large number of clergy who were abusing children. Not only that, but the Bishop, John Magee, was seen as turning a blind eye. Ian Elliott, was appointed "the Irish Catholic's Church child protection watchdog" and 20 months later he has produced guidelines for the Diocese to follow. One of the guidelines is that the Bishop is investigate all reported abuses. We then heard from a woman, Mary, who fifty years ago was abused by a priest and the Bishop did nothing. She finds the new guidelines insufficient for protecting children and one of her issues is the Bishop not being qualified to investigate the abuse. Ian Elliott responded by saying that the guidelines were written such that the Bishop could appoint and even hire someone who was a professional. Herein lies the problem, Mary doesn't trust that the Bishop will do so because of ego and/or power. She believes that Bishops will believe that because they are "bishops" they can do anything. It's perspective--Ian Elliott said that he would hope than any Bishop would recognize his human limitations and respond accordingly; Mary wants it in writing that no Bishop is trained to be the investigator and MUST hire from the outside.
Perspective and power. Ideally I'd like to believe that all Bishops would respond as Ian Elliott thinks they will. Just as I'd like to believe that all people in any position would not allow the power of their position or office to stand in the way of the greater good for humanity, but I also have a realistic side that knows that is probably not going to happen 100% of the time. It also makes me ponder the concept of perspective. How do we minister to people who come from a different perspective than we do? We have to listen and really hear; we have to be willing to leave our "power" at the door and be with people where they are, and they have to be willing to speak out. I think we also have to know ourselves and the perspectives form which we operate. It's a complex world, many perspectives, good power and evil power and overwhelming if we don't remain in dialouge and in community.
Perspective and power. Ideally I'd like to believe that all Bishops would respond as Ian Elliott thinks they will. Just as I'd like to believe that all people in any position would not allow the power of their position or office to stand in the way of the greater good for humanity, but I also have a realistic side that knows that is probably not going to happen 100% of the time. It also makes me ponder the concept of perspective. How do we minister to people who come from a different perspective than we do? We have to listen and really hear; we have to be willing to leave our "power" at the door and be with people where they are, and they have to be willing to speak out. I think we also have to know ourselves and the perspectives form which we operate. It's a complex world, many perspectives, good power and evil power and overwhelming if we don't remain in dialouge and in community.
02 March, 2009
We All Take Control and Struggle Differently
My very dear friend posted a blog about finding the "new mom". I have mulled what she said over and over and thought about how it holds to my life. She talked about letting go; releasing her cautious self; this was found during skiing and it has changed her life. As always, my friend gives me much to think about. I am also in a season of change; a time of finding the "new me", finding the person and living to be all that God created me to be. It's exciting and terrifying and in the midst of my soul searching, life keeps happening. My friend says that she is "promoting living and taking chances" and that she is "breaking out of the musty molds and being who you were created to be". Strong, thought provoking words.
I began my period of discernment so many years ago, 1997 to be exact. For a very long time, it was something I thought about, prayed about, and talked about, but I knew it wasn't happening anytime soon. During that time I was full time wife and mother with a lot of volunteer activity thrown in. For a very long time I loved my life and couldn't imagine doing anything differently until the children were grown. But life has a way of changing, and with every move and every season, I heard more and more clearly that I was called to begin seminary and to be ordained not later but now. My family heard the same call and supported me completely. So, after many interviews, essays, and internships, I was accepted to be a postulant and this February started seminary. And then life happened.
Life, the stress of parents divorcing after 44 years; I had no idea it would play the emotional role on me it had. Life, the not so easy adjustment to an new city--realizing it wasn't going to be as "perfect" as I always imagined. Life, a son hospitalized twice in 5 weeks and 3 more children constantly sick. Life, an ice storm that shut down the city and "set me back" in finishing another set of courses. Life hit and hit hard, but I wasn't alone. My husband began working from home more and taking on so many new jobs and he did it quietly and sacrificially. My rector and his family embraced us as family and stepped in every chance they could. And I have struggled.
I have struggled with wanting to go back to my comfort zone--I'm a good competent full time wife and mother, and I can take care of my family. I have struggled with wondering if this is the right time; I have struggled with believing I can do this; I have struggled with realizing that some of the people I thought would be the most supportive are not; I have struggled with feeling guilty for the sacrifices others are making for me. I have struggled with realizing that I was probably not as supportive of Chris during his graduate schools as I should have been. I have struggled with letting go and letting Chris take over more. I have struggled with feeling like I am failing my family. I have struggled with being afraid I will fail my family and friends who are being so supportive and believe I can do this. I have struggled and I continue to struggle with breaking out of my comfort zone--out of the "musty molds and being who God created me to be."
My dear friend went to a mountain top on skis, alone. She had a conversation with God about letting go. She realized how cautious she had been her whole life and recognized that letting go and skiing was her illustration of how she was going to change her life in so many ways. But she did it alone, and it worked for her to be alone. After she succeeded, she rejoined her family and they haven't looked back. That worked for her and I wish it worked for me. As I struggle, I need to talk, to reflect, to say aloud how I feel, to express my fears, to share. I don't need someone to fix it for me or give me advice, I just need them to listen, to allow me not to be confident, capable and smart. But that's not always a comfortable place for people. I understand that. When someone is sacrificing so much for me to follow this road, they don't want to hear about my doubts and anxieties. I do understand that, so now I struggle with being alone to work it through. Wish I had a mountain top and a pair of skis.
I began my period of discernment so many years ago, 1997 to be exact. For a very long time, it was something I thought about, prayed about, and talked about, but I knew it wasn't happening anytime soon. During that time I was full time wife and mother with a lot of volunteer activity thrown in. For a very long time I loved my life and couldn't imagine doing anything differently until the children were grown. But life has a way of changing, and with every move and every season, I heard more and more clearly that I was called to begin seminary and to be ordained not later but now. My family heard the same call and supported me completely. So, after many interviews, essays, and internships, I was accepted to be a postulant and this February started seminary. And then life happened.
Life, the stress of parents divorcing after 44 years; I had no idea it would play the emotional role on me it had. Life, the not so easy adjustment to an new city--realizing it wasn't going to be as "perfect" as I always imagined. Life, a son hospitalized twice in 5 weeks and 3 more children constantly sick. Life, an ice storm that shut down the city and "set me back" in finishing another set of courses. Life hit and hit hard, but I wasn't alone. My husband began working from home more and taking on so many new jobs and he did it quietly and sacrificially. My rector and his family embraced us as family and stepped in every chance they could. And I have struggled.
I have struggled with wanting to go back to my comfort zone--I'm a good competent full time wife and mother, and I can take care of my family. I have struggled with wondering if this is the right time; I have struggled with believing I can do this; I have struggled with realizing that some of the people I thought would be the most supportive are not; I have struggled with feeling guilty for the sacrifices others are making for me. I have struggled with realizing that I was probably not as supportive of Chris during his graduate schools as I should have been. I have struggled with letting go and letting Chris take over more. I have struggled with feeling like I am failing my family. I have struggled with being afraid I will fail my family and friends who are being so supportive and believe I can do this. I have struggled and I continue to struggle with breaking out of my comfort zone--out of the "musty molds and being who God created me to be."
My dear friend went to a mountain top on skis, alone. She had a conversation with God about letting go. She realized how cautious she had been her whole life and recognized that letting go and skiing was her illustration of how she was going to change her life in so many ways. But she did it alone, and it worked for her to be alone. After she succeeded, she rejoined her family and they haven't looked back. That worked for her and I wish it worked for me. As I struggle, I need to talk, to reflect, to say aloud how I feel, to express my fears, to share. I don't need someone to fix it for me or give me advice, I just need them to listen, to allow me not to be confident, capable and smart. But that's not always a comfortable place for people. I understand that. When someone is sacrificing so much for me to follow this road, they don't want to hear about my doubts and anxieties. I do understand that, so now I struggle with being alone to work it through. Wish I had a mountain top and a pair of skis.
01 March, 2009
Tolerated Step Child
I went to Diocesan Convention yesterday; it's supposed to be an uplifting community building event, but for me; well, I felt like the tolerated step child. It didn't seem to matter that I was there, and to whine further it took a great deal of effort to be there. I am exhausted (which perhaps exacerbated the negative feelings) from having a child in the hospital, two other sick children who are just getting well, and as I was on the two hour drive to the convention, my eldest called to tell me she had the flu--doctor confirmed. Add to that a husband who isn't feeling well but is doing so much (here I feel the guilt of depending on him), a paper due, a test, and mountains of reading. So, it did take some effort to get there. And then...
I know that I didn't come up through the ranks of this Diocese, and really I was thrust upon it. I had discerned in two other Dioceses; although the Bishop and the Commission on Ministry didn't have to accept me, I'm certain they felt some pressure. Nonetheless, this is the Diocese supporting me for seminary and this is the Diocese in which I will serve--most likely forever, and I felt simply tolerated. I said to myself and to others it didn't matter, but I lied--it did and it does.
It mattered that I was barely introduced
It mattered that the woman sitting next to me (although later kind) cut me off when I was speaking in a very abrupt way
It mattered that my very pastoral rector sent me a note listing the seminarian interns from St. Mark's and added my name to the list (an impressive list too!)
It mattered that the chair of the Commission stopped to ask me about my children by name
It mattered that a leader barely spoke to me and when hearing my child had just been discharged from the hospital made no comment and walked away
There were lots of things that mattered and pretending they didn't isn't true to myself or others. There were glimpses of grace and love and I'm holding on to those because the overall feeling I was left with was "you can stay or go it doesn't matter."
A learning moment? Yes--a moment to remember that we all need to matter and we need to know it. God created us to be in community and relationship and when we pretend it doesn't matter, we are turning our back on part of what God created. I don't need standing ovations, pats on the back, awards on my wall, but I do need to know that the community to which I belong supports my path, believes in my path, and wants me to stay. If that's not the case--it matters and I need to know.
I know that I didn't come up through the ranks of this Diocese, and really I was thrust upon it. I had discerned in two other Dioceses; although the Bishop and the Commission on Ministry didn't have to accept me, I'm certain they felt some pressure. Nonetheless, this is the Diocese supporting me for seminary and this is the Diocese in which I will serve--most likely forever, and I felt simply tolerated. I said to myself and to others it didn't matter, but I lied--it did and it does.
It mattered that I was barely introduced
It mattered that the woman sitting next to me (although later kind) cut me off when I was speaking in a very abrupt way
It mattered that my very pastoral rector sent me a note listing the seminarian interns from St. Mark's and added my name to the list (an impressive list too!)
It mattered that the chair of the Commission stopped to ask me about my children by name
It mattered that a leader barely spoke to me and when hearing my child had just been discharged from the hospital made no comment and walked away
There were lots of things that mattered and pretending they didn't isn't true to myself or others. There were glimpses of grace and love and I'm holding on to those because the overall feeling I was left with was "you can stay or go it doesn't matter."
A learning moment? Yes--a moment to remember that we all need to matter and we need to know it. God created us to be in community and relationship and when we pretend it doesn't matter, we are turning our back on part of what God created. I don't need standing ovations, pats on the back, awards on my wall, but I do need to know that the community to which I belong supports my path, believes in my path, and wants me to stay. If that's not the case--it matters and I need to know.
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