Restlessness

I think right about we could all use one of these.

Usually March signals the shift in the atmosphere that we have all been clamoring for. Winter has had her run on the stage, and now the scene changes and the intermission is slowly coming to an end. The orchestra now lifts the flute to their lips, and we await the light trill; the orchestra positions the violia against its shoulders and we await a sunny note to be pricked. What instead we are met with is a long drawn out soliloquy which has no end.

The Ides of March also signals the countdown, one month until we merry folk find out exactly where we are going; The Internship process for our interesting and calico band of seminarians has been one to write home about-filled with laughter and with a mysterious air. Therefore as we hunker down in the Refectory and the library, hushed away in the deep, soft chairs of the Grand Hallway our eyes are bright with mischief and with the question "Can we just know already?" 

Does the thirst that perhaps has been quenched throughout academica, returned because we have the need to actually be immersed in ministry? To make that first home visit; preach sermon for the third time on Sunday; converse with colleagues at Synod meetings; preside over a funeral? To actually be on our own and see what life is like on the other side? Do we view our Senior peers with envy because they soon will be living the dream?

Or mayhaps the Holy Spirit is dancing throughout the rainstorm, telling us that its alright to come and play?  The idea of being a living witness through Christ radiates through our being and we will be able to share and journey with new fellow brothers and sisters. It is exciting and nerve wracking and hopeful and scary all at once.

And last week, we were able to shed some of that nervous energy as we honored our own St. Dorothy-who even as she leaps into semi-retirement, still is informing us and helping us with scholarships galore:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=CKiCqG7AQHo

Here's to the coming Spring, and to finally able to sing the words..

Lape Bondye, God's Peace.

The Power to Say No: A Journey

I'm surprised I haven't found this plasted across my Treehouse Door..

A number of weeks ago, the middlers, super middlers and the interiddlers gathered in the spacious, sprawling Common Room on the third floor during our free time (which is commonly known as lunch time) for the wonderful presentation by our Field Ed folks on "Brace Yourself (blank) is getting Real" or what is more known as Internship Orientation. They attempt to make this as cheerful as possible, with colorful paper smiling up at us loaded with tons of information.

Dr. Baeder was in the midst of answering question when the subject of what a typical (insert laughter here) week within the parish/congregation might look like. This translated into a 55 hour work week of fun. I swiveled around in my chair to high five my other awesome interiddler gal and we silently nodded "We got this." However the tension in the room increased almost in waves upon hearing these words and from the back of the room, someone pipped up "55 hours? The students need to organize and unionize! That's ridiculous."

Before the snarky (term of endearment)  part of me (sung to the tune of Katy Perry's 'Best Part of Me') surfaced thanks to a year in my fabulous MIC congregation(no worries, I love them all to pieces), I had to pause for a moment: although longer days and prayerful nights were going to be the norm in all of our vocational lives, we still needed to practice self-care which does not come easy. As pastors and depending on the situation, we literally could be doing many things for the betterment of our parishes and our congregational members. We may end up taking care of things that perhaps we had not thought of; we may be snatching the reins of life because we are perfectionists and if its going to get accomplished, we want it done correctly.

And that brings me to the present, because recently a number of my friends have pulled a "NO" intervention on me. I am seriously guilty of getting involved in any and everything because, well I blame it on my genes (and my mother would agree wholeheartedly). Projects, benefit concerts, problems, organizing people, running meetings, high liturgical circus fun...yes every time these are presented my mind begins reeling about how we can get these things perfectly finished and polished. I can not say no. Is it the fact that I am so enthused about being in Seminary and involved in ministry that I do flying leaps over this journey, racing towards a horizon that is beautifully blinded by the fragility of sunrise?

Then again, the Creator raised His hands to the darkness of the beginning of time and with a deliberate and slow tempo created a thing of wonder and a joy to behold and praise forever and ever. There are moments when He tugs at my hand and sits me down to show me corners of this, Mother Earth and whispers for me to stand still and behold. 

So I am practicing this, saying no and speaking life into what I can do with joy and a resounding "Yes". I am practicing surfing on waves that can carrying me safely onto shores filled with seashells, curled and hidden in the waters of Baptism. 

It is going to be very hard, however to let go of control and just breathe.

Lape Bondye, God's Peace.

All in Good Kairos

During the course of this immersion week into our new classes, I found myself telling a classmate that the classroom may end up being where I get my social time this semester.   Now, at the end of the first week of classes, I’m not so sure if that is the case entirely but it has been a bit of an overwhelming week.  Aside from the Ministry in Context program I will be taking Hebrew, Systematic Theology 1, Preaching, and a doctoral seminar on 1 Corinthians.  Yikes.  I know that my class situation is not as busy as it could be.  I have a colleague who is taking 6 classes this semester (crazy!!!).  I also know that I am not alone in my feeling of overwhelmed as a junior MDiv student told me earlier today that his week has been like “taking a drink out of a fire hose.”  

I’m starting to remember, however, that on Thursday most of us take one big collective sigh of relief and somehow can discover enough time to live the lives we have outside of class. Today after school, I saw a large group go over to Jimmy’s for a celebratory drink.  I am currently doing laundry and getting myself ready to jam with a good friend of mine later this evening.  Looks like the classroom won’t be my only source of social interaction after all.  Still, though, it is somewhat difficult to imagine having a life while classes are beginning. 

Ultimately, for me, it will come down to making time for myself.  I want to jam, talk with people, play the occasional videogame, exercise, grab some sushi, and take a little time to go visit family in other parts of the country.  It will be important for me to remember that this all doesn’t have to happen at once, but that it will happen all in good kairos.

Until Next Thursday! 

One of Those Cat Ladies

I have become one of those women who a month ago I used to make jokes about - a cat lady.  While I have always loved animals and been attached to family pets as a kid, I never really understood the people who post pictures of their animals on Facebook or who start a conversation saying, "You'll never guess what Socks did today..." 

This summer I completed my clinical pastoral education unit (CPE) working as a hospital chaplain for the Dartmouth-Hitchcock Medical Center in New Hampshire.  My primary unit on the hospital was in the Intensive Care Nursery (ICN).  A challenging and formative environment, caring for sick and dying infants taught me that in order to minister in times of crisis, I need to further develop my self-care habits.

I had heard fellow seminarians say that their pets have served as accountability partners for them, being a reason to stop working, go home, and relax.  Upon returning to Chicago, I visited the Anti-Cruelty Society.  It was there that I met Cozmo, a seven-year-old, 17 pound cat who had been in the shelter for the past 2 months.  I learned that because of his age and size, not one visitor had taken him out of his cage.  He reminded me of the babies on the ICN, an innocent being that deserved love despite having qualities that may be seen as obstacles. 

Rescuing Cozmo has been a great gift to my life.  So grateful for love, he is always at my side.  Even as I write this, his head is stretched across my hands as they type on the laptop.  I knew that rescuing a cat would give me the opportunity to share love with another, and I thought it would fill the void of caring for my patients as I transition from CPE.  What I have found is that receiving Cozmo's love is a better gift than receiving.  As seminary students, it may be easy to focus on sharing Christ's love to others, but we must also be willing to recieve it in return.  We cannot give what we do not have, and everytime I snuggle with my cat, I remind myself that to truly care for God's people I must first care for myself.

I now think differently about people who gush about their pets.  If sharing with others the gift of giving and receiving love makes me one of those cat ladies, then it is a label I am happy to wear.