Shifting Gears

I really should have taken at least a day off between jobs. I am physically and emotionally exhausted and I didn't feel like I could assimilate anything they were teaching me today. And there is so much for me to learn.

I am going to be glad when my training is over so that I can begin going alone on visits. I am an introvert that can play the part of an extrovert for a while, if I have some alone time. I think I am really going to like my time alone in my car as I drive to patients homes. Some of my drives are over 20 miles away.

I do think that I am going to enjoy my job, but all day today I was longing for the church, not specifically the church I just left, but just in general. I want to be fully engaged in what I am doing, but how do I do that when I know that ultimately my heart is in parish ministry? I know the answer to my own question and that is to accept this time as a gift to hone my pastoral care skills, not to mention my organization skills! I am also going to gain an understanding of folks who work M-F, 8-5 each week, which is something I have never ever done.

I have already met some incredible people and I'm sure to blog about many of the experiences I have had. Like today, I visited a women who is an immigrant from Russia and doesn't speak English. When we prayed together, she began in Russian and I continued in English; back and forth in each language until we finished the prayer. I felt like it was Pentecost!

More later!

A Good Good-bye

It's 6:00 pm and I'm finally able to write about today, my last day at the wonderful church I've been serving for 4 years. I kept it together pretty well, but got a little teary in the middle of my sermon when I was challenging the congregation to not neglect the ministry right under their noses; namely the children and youth.

Afterwards they had a nice reception for me and, get this, they gave me the entire 12 volumes of the New Interpreter's Bible! I about fell over! I expected something like a gift certificate to Cokesbury, but this is just too much.

Lots of hugs and lots of saying, "I'll miss you, too." I meant it, I will miss them, but I also have a deep sense of peace today.

Three of the girls in the youth group asked me to go with them to see the Harry Potter movie. Man, is that a dark movie. I mean, in terms of lack of light. I nearly fell asleep a few times, but I still enjoyed it. But they really need to get on the stick about filming the final two movies before the actors have children of their own. I'm just sayin'.

I've been a part-time associate, which has been a real gift, but now I'm looking forward to having my evenings and weekends a little bit more free. Time will tell how I will like my new job, but I'm optimistic. I start full-time tomorrow.

Harry Mania!

Okay, I gave in. I just ordered my copy of the Harry Potter book. All the talk on the webring about spoilers got to me and I can't stand being spoiled!

Also, I'll need something next weekend to take my mind off of the fact that I am no longer at my church. This should do nicely!

How Do I Trust Again?

A woman in my congregation called me tonight to tell me that her daughter had a bad experience at the daycare/preschool that I have enrolled my kids (my son just for the summer.) She didn't say that anyone hurt her daughter, but that her daughter seemed unhappy there and they didn't monitor her diet closely enough. (The daughter has a milk allergy.) This woman is a little high strung and I tend to take things that she says with a grain of salt. However, after what we experienced in May with our last child care provider, I am extra sensitive to any complaint I hear about where my children are.

My children tell me that they like this place, but are unhappy that they have to go everyday. Yeah, they know how to push my guilt buttons.

I believe this woman when she says that they had a bad experience, but I don't want to over-react because every place has someone who didn't like them for whatever reason. However, I do not want to repeat the mistake of rationalizing things that I see and hear. The sad thing is that I didn't even know that I was rationalizing. This place has internet monitoring, and believe you me, I will be monitoring.

How are you vigilant without being overly suspicious? And how can I ever trust another child care provider again?

Stuff and Things

This may sound really stupid, but I feel as if I'm leaving the pastors' club. I know there's no club and that I am certainly not leaving ministry, but I am experiencing a sense of loss thinking about not being a parish pastor.

I have worked just two days for hospice and those days have been a whirlwind of learning all about Medicare regulations. I am going to be easily spending twice as much time on paperwork as I am actually with patients. One thing is for sure, my organizational skills are going to be getting a much needed improvement! Everyone I work with is very nice and I do think that I will enjoy the work...... for awhile.

I am very concerned about our new Administrative Assistant. I do not believe that she is at all well. In the past couple of weeks she has been going on and on that someone has been coming into the church office and tampering with her computer and moving things around, so she asked that the locks be changed. Well, she is still going on about it and has accused both a session member and our former Administrative Assistant. Her proof? A text message that she said she traced to a small town about 25 miles away. Yeah, it makes no sense. She called another Session member twice on Tuesday to talk about it. The Session member then called me and said that the Admin. Assist. was rambling on and on and making no sense. She has also been out of the office all week with an ailment that she hasn't clearly explained to me. But, I don't want to ask anymore because her explanation is too convoluted and confusing. I hope that she returns to the office in a better place physically and mentally for everyone's sake. I have documented all of this for the personnel chair and for the Interim pastor when she returns from vacation. I don't envy them.

Here's a happy.... "Sally" is doing so much better! She is walking around and her thought processes seem to be okay. When I was talking to her on Thursday, she seemed as sharp as she ever was. And she is easily one of the sharpest tacks in the drawer! Praise God! Thank you for your prayers for her.

Have a blessed worship service tomorrow, y'all! I'm off to finish my Naaman sermon.

A Summary

I have so much to write about, but little energy. And that I wish to save for my family to enjoy the holiday tomorrow.

So, to sum up quickly:

• I think I'm going to like my new job and the people with whom I will be working.
• I'm afraid that the new Admin. Assistant at church is losing it.
• I am experiencing an exhilarating freedom in preaching right now.
• We're shopping for a new (to us) car. I hate the adversarial relationship I have with car salesmen.
• I visited the young woman I've been telling you about today. Let's call her Sally. Sally has been removed from the ventilator, feeding tube, and tube that was attached to her head to drain fluid. She is responsive, but fades in and out a lot. I was happy to see that she recognized me and asked about people at church. She should be moved out of the ICU tomorrow. Praise be to God!

'Night!

Update

The young woman I wrote about a few days ago is hanging in there. They are weaning her off the drugs that they were using to keep her in a coma and the doctors are encouraged by her progress. She is still, however, critical and the extent of the damage to her brain is unknown.

Thanks for your prayers.

ETA: I just realized that this is my 100th post. Wow- I still can't believe that I have a blog.

It Takes Soooo Long to Resign!

Just a quick update....

I gave my resignation to Session last night. Everyone was stunned, but very sweet and affirming.

I just returned from meeting with most of my youth group and as I told them about my leaving, it felt like all the air rushed out of the room. But they did take it well, although they are understandably concerned about the future of the youth program. I'm praying that more adults will step up after I leave.

The letter to the congregation is going out today.

I am a bit amused by my colleague's insistence that I have a performance review before I leave. Whatever.

Five Things I Dig About Jesus

I was tagged by Cathy. This has been all over the blogring, so I'm going to dispense with the instructions.

Five things I dig about Jesus...

1. He loves me. This I know, for the Bible tells me so.

2. He was a holy man AND knew how to have a good time.

3. He liked short people, including children and tax collectors.

4. He was completely present with whomever he was with.

5. He didn't teach the hokey-pokey, but he told us to love God and neighbor and to spread it all around. That's what it's all about!

I'm not sure if there's anyone who hasn't already done this, but let's try tngirl, Singing Owl, Lutheran Mom, Pastornines, and grace-thing

Update and a Prayer Request

My colleague was very supportive and kind when I told her I was resigning. I haven't told anyone else because she is calling a special Session meeting on Tuesday night. They don't know the reason for the called meeting, so I'm sure that they are confused and little ticked they have to come in.

Not looking forward to it.

Okay, I have a much more important issue to discuss. I ask for prayers for an 19 year old young woman in our church who is right now in a chemically induced coma in the ICU. On Friday night, she and some friends were goofing off and racing shopping carts in the parking lot of a mall. She toppled out of the cart head over heels and landed on her head. She had emergency surgery to remove a blood clot the size of a fist.

Her prognosis is unknown, but she does have youth on her side. The girl was a straight A student and was looking forward to her first year of college where she was going to study Engineering. She had just returned from a year studying in the Philippines. I am heartsick for her and her family. Her younger sister is a very active member of our youth group and is one of the most spiritually sensitive people, youth or otherwise, that I have ever met.

Please pray with me.

11:09 PM

I can't sleep and feel like I'm gonna hurl thinking about telling my colleague and my youth group that I am resigning. Everyone else I can handle.

A New Garden

Well, I've done it. I am now a hospice chaplain.

The interview with the other chaplains was very laid back, as they didn't bombard me with questions, but just told me about their experiences and answered my questions.

I don't think that the head chaplain and the Social Service director intended to offer me the job right then and there, but on my way out the owner of the hospice asked them, "So, did you tell her that she got the job?" They stammered and said, "Well, we were going to let you sit with this for a bit and then call you. But, do you think you want the job?" We then went back into an office to "talk turkey." The salary is several thousand more than I expected and the insurance coverage for my kids is practically nothing, which I was very concerned about since we've gotten accustomed to paid family coverage.

So, now the hard part: telling my church. My colleague is going out of town on Monday for 3 weeks, so I'll have to tell her on Sunday. The folks at hospice said that I could be part-time for a few weeks to get trained so that I can give appropriate notice to the church.

Oh, how I hate quitting a job! I've gotten sick to my stomach over quitting a paper route and when I resigned from my first call, I was completely beside myself. I know that they will be supportive and I know that my leaving will make way for ministries that are on the horizon. Namely, we are beginning to reach out to the Hispanic population of our neighborhood and have someone who is ready to lead that effort, but she does need to be paid. I am excited for what God has in store for this congregation and for the next called pastor.

Thanks, friends, for all the prayers and words of wisdom. You all are the best!

A Fork in the Road

Yesterday I had a job interview for a chaplaincy position in a local hospice and tomorrow I meet with all the chaplains. I have the feeling that I will be offered the job. I go into this a bit half-hearted because I really wanted to have a pastoral call by now. It's not happening and we are going deeper and deeper into debt. Something's gotta give and that something is me getting a more lucrative job. My part-time position with its itty-bitty salary just isn't enough.

I do enjoy pastoral care and find it a privilege to journey with people in their last days. I am intrigued about the possibility of working a Monday-Friday, 8-5 job and there is a lot of autonomy in how I spend my time. Chaplaincy certainly is a very important ministry and I am grateful that there is an opportunity for me to be in ministry in this way.

It's not only our financial situation that leads me to want to move on. Anyone who reads this blog with any regularity knows that my job satisfaction has gone way down in the last year. I absolutely love the congregation, but I know that my purpose for being there has passed.

I spoke today with my beloved former colleague and he is concerned that I might have a hard time finding a parish ministry if I am a chaplain. It's easier to be called to a church while working in a church. I do know that ultimately I want to pastor a congregation.

I have been playing the Indigo Girls' song "Watershed" over and over the past few days.

Up on the watershed

standing in a fork in the road.

You can stand there and agonize

til your agony's your heaviest load.

Any words of wisdom out there? Would I be hurting myself professionally?

Of course, they might not even offer me the position and this whole conversation would be moot.

Eight Random Things

Towanda tagged me for this "Eight Random Things About Me" meme the other day while I was out of town. Since this meme has been all over the blogring, I'm not going to bother sharing the rules, especially since I'm going to disregard them anyway! I'll try to share different things than the "Six Weird Things About Me" meme from several weeks ago!

Let's see....

1. My older sister's and my middle name are each one half of our mother's name.


2. I hate, I hate, I hate it when someone squeaks a balloon. It hurts me physically..... really.


3. My second toe is longer than my big toe and I don't mind! My mother's toes are the same way and she once told me when I was a little girl that it signified that she was the boss! I like that interpretation!


4. My daughter went without a name for her first two days of life because she didn't look like the name we had originally chosen. The name we came up with suits her quite well!


5. I don't understand underwire bras. I mean, I know they are supposed to be more supportive, but I have been professionally fitted and still can't find one that is at all comfortable.

6. I'm discovering that it sucks to still be on vacation, but not be out of town. Well, at least when you have kids and school's out for summer!


7. I just fed my kids cereal for dinner.


8. I wish I had a gin and tonic right now.

Blogger Meet Up In Colorado!

Today I went back to my old stompin' grounds (and I did stomp a lot!) at the Iliff School of Theology in Denver. There I met up with Towanda and had a great lunch at a Chinese restaurant I used to frequent. Thankfully, the food is still delicious and I didn't have to say, "It used to be good, really!"

The roses are from my sister-in-law's back yard. She didn't have any irises. :) But we have lovely hands, don't you think?

Vacation

We're heading out early tomorrow to drive about 12 hours straight to Colorado. My husband's parents and sister and family and both of my sisters and their families live in CO. My parents are coming down from Wyoming. Lots of family time and a little camping. While in Denver, we get to meet for the first time our nephew who was born in March!

Also while in Denver, I'm going to drop by where I went to seminary, Iliff School of Theology and have a blogger meet up with Towanda. I am really excited about that!

I'll be back blogging in a week or so. Peace, y'all!

The Waiting is the Hardest Part

I got spoiled the first time I was seeking a call. I received and accepted a call less than a month and half after I was cleared to circulate my PIF, and the church I went to wasn't the first one to issue me a call. I'm not sure why it came so easy that time around, but it did. I do know that the PNCs (pastor search committee) I was in contact with back then were very motivated and moved very quickly, whereas the ones I've been in conversation with this time are taking their sweet time.

A few weeks ago I told a PNC that I wasn't their gal mainly because I couldn't stand the way they were going about the process. First, they didn't like my list of references because there were, "too many pastors and elders on it." Oookay. Then, it took three weeks for them to check my references because they felt they had to have the entire committee present to speak with the references. Have you ever heard of such a thing? I hadn't and neither had any of my references.

The PNC of a congregation that I am very interested in has been dragging their feet, too. I had a terrific phone interview with them about a month ago and I know that they have called a few of references, but I hadn't heard a thing from them since the phone interview. So I e-mailed the committee chair last week to check in and ask if my sermon tape had arrived. He wrote back saying, "We haven't made any decisions yet, but you're still in the running."

Now, this bothered my husband to no end. He doesn't want me to be "in the running." He thinks that the PNC of the church I am ultimately called to will be super excited about me from the get-go and won't drag things out. You know, like it was the first time around. I've told him that we need to trust the process, that this PNC probably has some really good candidates that they are considering and that we need to be patient. But there is a part of me that wonders if he might be right. I'm not sure I want to be "in the running" either. Is this call process a horse race? Am I in competition with my fellow pastors? I don't think so, but I wonder if that's how some PNCs view the process.

So, I pray for these committees and their discernment, as well as mine, knowing that God's going to land me somewhere that's right. But could it be soon, Lord?

Last Day of Kindergarten

My little boy had his last day of Kindergarten today. For several weeks now, with good reason, my emotions have been just right under the surface and even things like McDonald's commercials have been making me cry. Yesterday, I was driving my son to school and the sappy song that goes, "Oh, how the years go by. Oh, how the love brings tears to my eyes..."
And, of course, the tears came and I was furiously wiping them away before we arrived at the school.

I am going to miss his teacher, Senor B. so much and not just because he is a gorgeous 29 year old! You can tell that he really and truly loves his job. I am so glad that my son at this age got to be influenced by a man, other than my husband, who is nurturing, intelligent, strong and loving. Also, I cannot believe how good my son's Spanish is already. It's mind-blowing, really.

Sr. B. threw a party for the last hour of the school day with cookies and awards (everyone got one.) Then, he had to go and make me cry some more! He gave each student a sealed envelope that had "Do not open until High School graduation" written on it. One step at a time, Sr. B! I'm having a hard enough time with my baby finishing Kindergarten! Don't get me thinking about his graduation! I know, I know. . . blink of an eye, they grow up so fast, blah, blah, blah, graduationcakes!

But really, that was the sweetest thing I have ever seen a teacher do. I bawled, but I wasn't the only one, gratefully.

It's only gonna get worse, isn't it?

Adoption

For all who are led by the Spirit of God are children of God. For you did not receive a spirit of slavery to fall back into fear, but you have received a spirit of adoption. When we cry, ‘Abba!Father!’ it is that very Spirit bearing witness with our spirit that we are children of God, and if children, then heirs, heirs of God and joint heirs with Christ—if, in fact, we suffer with him so that we may also be glorified with him. (Romans 8: 14-17)

This was the text I preached from this past Pentecost and Confirmation Sunday, the Apostle Paul's beautiful and assuring words that we are God's children. The Spirit "bears witness" that we have been adopted into the family of God, which is good enough in itself, yet we also are joint heirs with Christ. What an amazing inheritance we have! What a loving, merciful, and compassionate God we worship and serve!

I don't want anyone to read this post and come away thinking that I am against adoption. I am very much a proponent of adoption. My husband and I are praying about whether or not we are being called to adopt. I know many loving and gracious people who have adopted children. These folks are among my personal heroes. Some of them read my blog (Hi, Alex!) Some have adopted from within the United States, some from overseas, while some have adopted a child who was first their foster child. Some have adopted nieces and nephews and some have adopted their spouse's child from a prior relationship.

This last scenario was how my mother came to be adopted. I wish I could say that her adoptive family exhibited the "spirit of adoption" that I admire so much in my friends who have adopted, but that was not the case, sadly. No, she was never abused or abandoned or in want, except for want of acceptance from her adoptive father's side of the family.

My mother's biological father was newly married to my grandmother when he left to fight in WWII. He was a pilot. I'm told that he was quite the go-getter and extremely intelligent. This may be just family lore, but the story goes that he was the first person ever in the army to earn his pilot's wings who didn't have a college degree. Tragically, like so many young women at this time, my grandmother became a widow at the age of 23. My grandfather had been shot down over China on Christmas Eve 1943, less than one month after my mother was born.

Three years later, my grandmother met a young man fresh out of out the service and married him 3 months later. When it was decided that this man would adopt my mother, my grandmother made a mistake that, honestly, I have a hard time forgiving her for. She gradually lessened my mother's contact with her biological dad's family, until it was non-existent. The reason given: "We didn't want to confuse her because she had a new father and a new family." In fact, my grandmother would become angry whenever my mother would ask questions about her father, so she stopped asking.

My mother describes her adoptive father as, "distant, but I knew he loved me. Although he never told me so." The grandparents were very wealthy, very proper, very tall and willowy and very concerned about what other people thought of them. My mom, who has struggled with her weight since childhood and who by nature is quite gregarious and dramatic, often felt like an embarrassment to them.

After my aunt was born, my mom had a nagging feeling that her sister was loved more than she by the grandparents. Over the years, whenever this feeling would pop up, she would dismiss it as just her insecurity talking. She certainly never voiced this feeling to anyone. By and large, my mom had a happy childhood and was close to her mother's side of the family and her sister.

My mother graduated high school and enrolled in a Junior College about 40 minutes from home. (This was where she met my dad, incidentally.) Less than a month into her Freshman year, she got the horrible news that her dad had been killed in a car accident. My poor grandmother was yet again a widow and my mom lost her father, again.

My mom's contact with this side of the family gradually lessened over the years, mainly because my dad was always moving us here, there and everywhere. I remember we used to go visit this set of grandparents every year a few days before Christmas to have "Christmas" with them. Oh, how I hated going. Not because I hated them, but because of how much my mother would freak out beforehand. We had to dress up and be lectured about how we needed to be on our best behavior:"Don't talk loud. Don't get your clothes dirty. Smile and be pleasant. Don't be opinionated- Iris, I'm talking to you!" Jeez, I felt like I was entering a Jr. Miss pageant rather than visiting my great-grandparents.

Time passed and we all got older. This great-grandfather died in 1989 and although she had Alzheimer's, my great-grandmother hung in there until 1996. As I mentioned, they were quite wealthy and they had a considerable estate. My great-grandfather had set up an enormous trust to bestow on all the grandchildren. Well, almost all the grandchildren. My mother was not listed in the will with the other grandchildren. She was included in the will, however, with my grandmother, her mother. The wording in the will was: "($$ amount) goes to our son, C.'s widow, E. and her daughter, J."

I can't even imagine what that must have felt like to my mom. She cried more than I have ever seen her cry before in my life. And these were not merely self-pitying tears, they were tears that come from having your heart broken in a thousand pieces. Although to have been included in the trust would have helped our family immensely, my mother wasn't crying over the money. This will had confirmed what she had felt intuitively since she was a little girl, that in the eyes of these people she wasn't family; she was someone else's kid that their son was forced to raise.

In the weeks and months afterwards, my mother grieved over this sense of loss, not only of this family, but of the one she had never known. I was 24 years old at the time and was living with my parents for year while I completed a year of AmeriCorps service. So, I was the one who listened and cried with my mother again and again and again. I internalized much of this hurt that my mother was experiencing and, I'm afraid, that bitterness and anger took root so deeply that it became a part of me. I'm just now beginning to see that.

Four years ago, the family that I had created with my husband, son, and daughter (in-utero) moved to this city in the Bible Belt. I haven't mentioned yet that this is the city where my mother was born and was raised in and around. A couple of months after we moved here, I announced to my mother that I was going to call her biological uncle, my great-uncle, who lives here in town. My mother had never met him and I wasn't even sure if he knew that I even existed. At first, Mom recited the "family script" of ,"No, don't bother him. Why do you want to shake things up?" I told her that shaking things up was my role in the family and that I, too, felt cheated that there was entire branch of my family tree with which I had never had any contact. "Besides," I said, "I'm looking at his name in the phone book right now and it will drive me literally insane if I don't at least try to make contact." My Mom said, "Okay, maybe if you break the ice, I'll be brave enough to meet him when I come to visit you after the baby's born." She was cautiously excited, I could tell.

On Labor Day weekend, while my older sister was visiting, I called him up. I said, "Uncle M., my name is Iris and I'm your great-niece." He was, understandably confused, until I told him that I was J.'s daughter. Silence, and then, "Oh, I was hoping that one day I would get to meet J." My sister and I went to his house the next day. He was visibly excited to meet us and was more than willing to talk about our grandfather whom we never knew. We promised to bring our mother by when my parents came to visit after my daughter was born the next month.

I can't even begin to articulate how it felt to introduce my mother to her uncle. We stayed for hours as Uncle M. told stories and we asked questions about this part of our family. Uncle M. and my grandfather were extremely close, so we couldn't have found a better person to describe to us what my grandfather was like. Well, my grandmother could have, but she wasn't willing.

I had no desire to make contact with the other family.

Why is all of this coming to the surface right now? Yesterday was Memorial Day and my family decided to go visit the graves of my biological grandfather and my great-grandparents (my grandmother's parents whom I absolutely adored.) We visited my great-grandparents' graves first. My kids asked lots of questions and we took pictures. Their graves are right next to a pretty little pond with lots of ducks, geese, and turtles, so my husband suggested that we take a walk. We were halfway around the pond when I realized that we were right by the graves of my Mom's adoptive father and his parents. Since my husband and my kids had never been to their graves, I decided to show them. My husband suggested that he take our picture and I couldn't believe the feelings that welled up inside me. "No," I said, "We've already seen my great-grandparents' graves and they are on the other side of the pond. These people were not my family!"

Within 15 seconds, a couple came up to the grave and the woman put fresh flowers on the great-grandparents' graves. I wanted to just walk away, but instead I asked if they were relatives of this family. The woman said, "Yes, they were my grandparents." I identified myself as J.'s daughter,(you'll notice not as their great-granddaughter or her cousin.) She and her husband seemed happy to see me. They knew that I lived in town and that I was a pastor. I suppose my aunt had told them. We chatted politely for a few minutes and then went on our way.

I'm not sure what to make of that. I had just made a speech that demonstrates how bitter and angry I am about this piece of my family history and at that moment members of that family show up. I know that God wants me to give up the anger and outright hostility I feel. I believe that I am more bitter than my mother is. Perhaps I felt that I had to take it on for her because I felt that somebody needed to be loyal to her. I don't know.

I do know that God, always the ultimate opportunist, has made the most of our time here in this city!

Check It Out

I read about this online labyrinth over at Towanda's place last week and I thought, "yeah, yeah, maybe I'll get around to checking that out....later." Friends, it is well worth your time.

Take some time for yourself. You've been giving and giving; it's time to receive some refreshment and nurture. It takes about 40 minutes.