I just wanted to send out a note thanking everyone who has so lovingly held my family in their prayers. I intentionally went into "turtle mode" yesterday, so if I have not responded to a call, message, or text, it is not personal; I am taking some time to process and take care of myself and my immediate family in the midst of some of life's challenges.
I am grateful for the hardworking and loving veterinary clinic staff who did their best to save our kitty, Max and who were extremely kind to us when it became clear he wasn't going to make it.
I am grateful for my home congregation, who has lifted my volunteer work from my shoulders for a few weeks while we get our feet under us again.
I am grateful for my Meadville Lombard classmates and faculty, who have been so patient and kind this year. I have a lot to "pay forward" in the coming year!
I am grateful to my kids, who have been supportive and patient with two of us being in college, and helping to make sure our house runs relatively smoothly, even in the midst of loss and feeling embattled at times, I'm sure!
I am especially grateful to my husband, who has dredged out the flooded basement, been a rock during the loss of my father and two brothers this year, and who always puts on his bravest face, even when he's tired.
I am grateful for both of my church communities - I love you all, and am moving through this year with as much patience and grace as I can muster, mostly due to the spoken and unspoken love and support from my home congregation and my teaching congregation. I cannot even believe how full my life is of wonderful, wonderful people.
I am grateful to get a chance to get to know more of my father's family, even though the reasons for that chance come out of death and grief.
I am grateful for warm spring weather, even though the rains have conspired against us and our belongings. It feels so good to have the sun on my face, and to walk the dog without layers of clothes, a hat, and mittens. It is healing to get outside and watch the trees burst into life again.
I am grateful for my teaching minister, Jean sharing the book "Great Occasions" with me. I end with a quote from Paul N. Carnes:
Inevitably our anguish frames the question "Why?" if not on our lips, in our hearts. There is no answer that removes this question - no answer that can bridge the chasm of irreparable separation. Life will never be the same, and this is as it should be, for our loved ones are not expendable.
We can meet such loss only with our grief, that uncontrived mixture of courage, affirmation, and inconsolable desolation. Grief is enough; for, in our grief we live an answer, as in the depths love and selfishness conjoin until, if we allow it, love asserts its dominance, and we become more aware of the community of living of which life makes us a part.
Thursday, April 28, 2011
Monday, March 28, 2011
Writing as spiritual practice
Ha! I kill myself. Last January I said I was going to try to write everyday. And I do. I write Facebook posts, and papers, and replies to papers, and emails and sermons. But I don't write the things that are in my head, because I just don't have time.
I don't write about Japan and the earthquake and tsunami. I don't write about nuclear reactors and radiation leaking into the ocean. I don't write about how raising a teenage daughter is exhausting and eerily parallel to reliving one's own adolescence, except this time you don't get to have the fun of being devious and naughty before you get caught - you just get to be the bad guy.
I don't write about dealing with a child with ADHD or the way I feel about the school system (not good, if you don't already know). I don't write about my feelings on class warfare and immigration, or about being divorced and trying to co-parent effectively. I don't write about gender issues and being a woman in ministry.
I don't write (much) about being in the sandwich generation and what it means to have aging parents and to lose one. I don't write about my crazy dog who won't be housebroken and who chews up my theology books.
But these are just the tip of the iceberg of the things I'd write about if I only had time. I dream about them though. Last night I dreamt a whole sermon about "Being Heard," based purely on anecdotes about my teenager daughter and my dog.
But it's OK. This too shall pass. I love internship and ministry and school (though I swear I'm never taking another class from the Lutherans!). I just have so many things I think about and no time to write about, but they come out in sermons and essays and reflections and...just not here.
Ah, I feel better now :) I'm looking forward to August when I plan to reread every Stephen King book I own and go to the beach. Then I"ll write. Maybe.
I don't write about Japan and the earthquake and tsunami. I don't write about nuclear reactors and radiation leaking into the ocean. I don't write about how raising a teenage daughter is exhausting and eerily parallel to reliving one's own adolescence, except this time you don't get to have the fun of being devious and naughty before you get caught - you just get to be the bad guy.
I don't write about dealing with a child with ADHD or the way I feel about the school system (not good, if you don't already know). I don't write about my feelings on class warfare and immigration, or about being divorced and trying to co-parent effectively. I don't write about gender issues and being a woman in ministry.
I don't write (much) about being in the sandwich generation and what it means to have aging parents and to lose one. I don't write about my crazy dog who won't be housebroken and who chews up my theology books.
But these are just the tip of the iceberg of the things I'd write about if I only had time. I dream about them though. Last night I dreamt a whole sermon about "Being Heard," based purely on anecdotes about my teenager daughter and my dog.
But it's OK. This too shall pass. I love internship and ministry and school (though I swear I'm never taking another class from the Lutherans!). I just have so many things I think about and no time to write about, but they come out in sermons and essays and reflections and...just not here.
Ah, I feel better now :) I'm looking forward to August when I plan to reread every Stephen King book I own and go to the beach. Then I"ll write. Maybe.
Tuesday, March 22, 2011
The Timeline of Grief
I'm feeling particularly raw lately. That "bubble" I developed during chaplaincy seems to be intact during minstry work itself, but in my personal life, it seems to have popped like so much warm air.
A friend was discussing the first spring of being without her father, and that made me cry. Earlier, I was with a dear friend/teacher, who lost her her mother last week and she told me of the large hole it has created in her life, and I found myself a few moments later, fled to the ladies' room, to dab my streaming eyes, and put myself back together.
My son is ill with strep throat. It's his first experience with needing antibiotics and somehow more difficult than the flu we all just went through. But today, at the doctor's, he was "a poor source of information" as was my own father. His spirit is close and present in these transitional days of sun and snow, before real spring comes to upstate New York.
I am bone tired, so maybe my defenses are truly down, which isn't a bad thing. I'm having a bit of trouble keeping up with everything as the semester churns into its final six weeks. I haven't been home since Christmas and am missing my old stomping grounds. I am feeling the stresses and joys of mothering teens and tweens, preschoolers and school-agers.
I am deeply saddened and struggling with how to understand and cope with world events in the Middle East and Japan, as well as the role of the United States and the choices we are making. The whole front page of the New York times made me want to weep today.
However, my daughter just came in and told me she is being pursued by the University of Pennsylvania as a potential transfer student, which brightened me up again. It's such a statement on our humanity that our personal experiences are a profoundly important way in which we interpret global events. Little successes are vital, both on a personal and on a global scale. Thank you, Sharon Welch!
So I grieve. And study, and pastor, and grieve some more. I look forward to days of reading and sun; of recuperation and freedom from ill children and outside influences that threaten any sense of wellbeing - bacteria or other.
And I sleep. Sleep is healing, as apparently is apple juice.
A friend was discussing the first spring of being without her father, and that made me cry. Earlier, I was with a dear friend/teacher, who lost her her mother last week and she told me of the large hole it has created in her life, and I found myself a few moments later, fled to the ladies' room, to dab my streaming eyes, and put myself back together.
My son is ill with strep throat. It's his first experience with needing antibiotics and somehow more difficult than the flu we all just went through. But today, at the doctor's, he was "a poor source of information" as was my own father. His spirit is close and present in these transitional days of sun and snow, before real spring comes to upstate New York.
I am bone tired, so maybe my defenses are truly down, which isn't a bad thing. I'm having a bit of trouble keeping up with everything as the semester churns into its final six weeks. I haven't been home since Christmas and am missing my old stomping grounds. I am feeling the stresses and joys of mothering teens and tweens, preschoolers and school-agers.
I am deeply saddened and struggling with how to understand and cope with world events in the Middle East and Japan, as well as the role of the United States and the choices we are making. The whole front page of the New York times made me want to weep today.
However, my daughter just came in and told me she is being pursued by the University of Pennsylvania as a potential transfer student, which brightened me up again. It's such a statement on our humanity that our personal experiences are a profoundly important way in which we interpret global events. Little successes are vital, both on a personal and on a global scale. Thank you, Sharon Welch!
So I grieve. And study, and pastor, and grieve some more. I look forward to days of reading and sun; of recuperation and freedom from ill children and outside influences that threaten any sense of wellbeing - bacteria or other.
And I sleep. Sleep is healing, as apparently is apple juice.
Wednesday, March 16, 2011
Measured sigh of relief
First, my mother is doing better, though may have suffered a mini-stroke/TIA during the night. We are waiting for the CT scan results.
My hearing went as well as could be expected today. The demands have been reduced, and the girls will meet with an attorney that's been assigned to them. They have to undergo independent testing, but there was no push to move them into the school system. In terms of custody, that will be part of the discussions we will all have with the children's attorney of the next couple of weeks.
Thank you for all of the support, prayers and love I felt holding me throughout the proceedings.
Now, to get through surgery and the RSCC in the next couple of weeks :)
My hearing went as well as could be expected today. The demands have been reduced, and the girls will meet with an attorney that's been assigned to them. They have to undergo independent testing, but there was no push to move them into the school system. In terms of custody, that will be part of the discussions we will all have with the children's attorney of the next couple of weeks.
Thank you for all of the support, prayers and love I felt holding me throughout the proceedings.
Now, to get through surgery and the RSCC in the next couple of weeks :)
Monday, March 14, 2011
Lent, Spring, and preparing for the RSCC
Last weekend, a friend of mine preached at my internship congregation, and at the end, she charged us with looking at Lent as an opportunity to reflect and act on our interdependence with all of creation. I was raised Catholic, and I actually really loved Lent and the rituals around it. One of the reasons is probably that I didn't feel that I answered to God, but to my parents. One year I gave up TV for Lent, and On Golden Pond was being shown, and I was able to negotiate an extension of Lent by a day in order to watch it.
But now there is no negotiating, except with myself, so I was determined to take Libby's charge seriously. So we have given up paper products (meaning paper plates, paper towels, and paper napkins) for the duration of Lent. So far it's going pretty well, and everyone is on board with it. It's a good spiritual practice to be aware of our carbon footprint, and how much waste we generate as an already large family of six.
The idea of privation, or making sacrifice is not unheard of for my children; we aren't wealthy by any stretch of the imagination, and we regularly reuse, recycle, etc. But this is a very intentional practice, and it's been interesting to watch how everyone does it. I did threaten to make us use cloth toilet paper, but everyone insisted that was going too far and threatened to mutiny. I countered that it wasn't different than using cloth wipes that we washed and reused with cloth diapers when each child was a baby, but I didn't get very far! Apparently non-diapered butts require paper products ;).
In other news, I actually believe that spring might arrive someday, despite the weather report that says it will be in the teens tonight. There has been a tremendous migration of geese, which is one of the joys of living in the Finger Lakes region of New York. I saw an entire field white with snow geese the other day, with hundreds more filling the sky. On the Thruway over the last three days, there have been Vs of Canadian geese as far as the eye can see; it never ends. I have also seen a number of heron pairs and heard a mourning dove this morning.
I am hopeful that spring will bring a fresh start. The last 12 months have been one difficulty after another it seems. Today was no exception. Since last March, I have had two hand surgeries, and just found out that I have to have a much more extensive one next Friday, on my dominant hand, for a large cyst that is wrapped around my tendons. That pretty much eliminates gardening again this summer, much to my dismay.
My mother went into the hospital with congestive heart failure today. She has been in the hospital numerous times in the last three years, but her breathing is getting worse. She has fluid in her lungs and they suspect she has had another heart attack. My mother-in-law has been in the hospital 3 times since October, with a total of 5 weeks just since Christmas. My father died in November. I've been in and out of court with my ex-husband over child support twice, and have to go on Wednesday again, because he has filed a custody and educational modification around custodial time and homeschooling. I have been struggling with migraines and medication issues since last April.
In less than a month, I return to the RSCC, (for those not UU, it's part of the process of ministry) and I certainly have learned a lot in the last year. I have learned that crisis is not in my vocabulary. Between seminary, parenting, homeschooling, working, internship, volunteering, cleaning, and very little sleep, I have learned to take each day as it comes. I have learned that my daily spiritual practice pays off. I have learned to be much more patient, to listen more, and to incorporate silence and self-care into every single day. I've learned just how very rich I am in friends, and how right I was to follow the call into ministry.
There have been some wonderful things that have happened this year. My children are growing up and becoming more fabulous all the time. My husband is pursuing his own journey of personal transformation. I am in love with my teaching congregation. I have food; shelter; snuggly husband, pets and children; and so much love in my life.
So I guess spring will bring what it must, and life will happen, just as it always does, bringing challenge and grace, a day at a time. Namaste to all who have carried my journey with them in their prayers and hearts this year. Just a few more - for my mother, for the best outcome at court on Wednesday, and for a successful surgery next Friday, with a fast recovery.
But now there is no negotiating, except with myself, so I was determined to take Libby's charge seriously. So we have given up paper products (meaning paper plates, paper towels, and paper napkins) for the duration of Lent. So far it's going pretty well, and everyone is on board with it. It's a good spiritual practice to be aware of our carbon footprint, and how much waste we generate as an already large family of six.
The idea of privation, or making sacrifice is not unheard of for my children; we aren't wealthy by any stretch of the imagination, and we regularly reuse, recycle, etc. But this is a very intentional practice, and it's been interesting to watch how everyone does it. I did threaten to make us use cloth toilet paper, but everyone insisted that was going too far and threatened to mutiny. I countered that it wasn't different than using cloth wipes that we washed and reused with cloth diapers when each child was a baby, but I didn't get very far! Apparently non-diapered butts require paper products ;).
In other news, I actually believe that spring might arrive someday, despite the weather report that says it will be in the teens tonight. There has been a tremendous migration of geese, which is one of the joys of living in the Finger Lakes region of New York. I saw an entire field white with snow geese the other day, with hundreds more filling the sky. On the Thruway over the last three days, there have been Vs of Canadian geese as far as the eye can see; it never ends. I have also seen a number of heron pairs and heard a mourning dove this morning.
I am hopeful that spring will bring a fresh start. The last 12 months have been one difficulty after another it seems. Today was no exception. Since last March, I have had two hand surgeries, and just found out that I have to have a much more extensive one next Friday, on my dominant hand, for a large cyst that is wrapped around my tendons. That pretty much eliminates gardening again this summer, much to my dismay.
My mother went into the hospital with congestive heart failure today. She has been in the hospital numerous times in the last three years, but her breathing is getting worse. She has fluid in her lungs and they suspect she has had another heart attack. My mother-in-law has been in the hospital 3 times since October, with a total of 5 weeks just since Christmas. My father died in November. I've been in and out of court with my ex-husband over child support twice, and have to go on Wednesday again, because he has filed a custody and educational modification around custodial time and homeschooling. I have been struggling with migraines and medication issues since last April.
In less than a month, I return to the RSCC, (for those not UU, it's part of the process of ministry) and I certainly have learned a lot in the last year. I have learned that crisis is not in my vocabulary. Between seminary, parenting, homeschooling, working, internship, volunteering, cleaning, and very little sleep, I have learned to take each day as it comes. I have learned that my daily spiritual practice pays off. I have learned to be much more patient, to listen more, and to incorporate silence and self-care into every single day. I've learned just how very rich I am in friends, and how right I was to follow the call into ministry.
There have been some wonderful things that have happened this year. My children are growing up and becoming more fabulous all the time. My husband is pursuing his own journey of personal transformation. I am in love with my teaching congregation. I have food; shelter; snuggly husband, pets and children; and so much love in my life.
So I guess spring will bring what it must, and life will happen, just as it always does, bringing challenge and grace, a day at a time. Namaste to all who have carried my journey with them in their prayers and hearts this year. Just a few more - for my mother, for the best outcome at court on Wednesday, and for a successful surgery next Friday, with a fast recovery.
Thursday, March 10, 2011
Parenting as a Spiritual Practice
I am considering starting a small group on this topic next year. All I can say is that parenting has made me a stronger person, helped me grow in ways I would never have imagined, and requires a lot of patience.
I am so tired. My oldest will turn 15 tomorrow. She is amazing. Beautiful. Intelligent. Stylish. And very much a teenager, with the normal flaws that go along with that. But I love her so much. Parenting a 15 year old and a 4 year old takes a certain amount of humor though. They both like to talk a lot. They both like to snuggle. They both like to interrupt me when I'm trying to work or study. But it's an amazing, awe-filled journey.
Having a 15 year old means that I, of course, am no longer a youngster. My body is betraying me in little dibs and drabs, and in very inconvenient ways. I have had two hand surgeries in the last year, and have to have another one in a couple of weeks, that will be a much more extensive surgery, and a longer recovery.
And I am finding that I absolutely require more sleep in order to function well.
Parenting a teenager is just as much fun, and just as much work as I expected. I love every bloody minute of it. It is such a gift to see a child becoming a young adult, and to move out into the world. It's bittersweet as well, because I love her so much and do not look forward to the day when she doesn't lay on the foot of my bed to chat each night.
In any event, dear Emma, I love you to the stars and back. You are strong, capable, gorgeous, fun, brilliant, motivated, and just all-around wonderful, and I hope I tell you all those things enough. I am so very proud of you, despite your faults (and mine), and I am so grateful that your spirit chose me to be a mother for the first time.
Namaste my dear girl.
I am so tired. My oldest will turn 15 tomorrow. She is amazing. Beautiful. Intelligent. Stylish. And very much a teenager, with the normal flaws that go along with that. But I love her so much. Parenting a 15 year old and a 4 year old takes a certain amount of humor though. They both like to talk a lot. They both like to snuggle. They both like to interrupt me when I'm trying to work or study. But it's an amazing, awe-filled journey.
Having a 15 year old means that I, of course, am no longer a youngster. My body is betraying me in little dibs and drabs, and in very inconvenient ways. I have had two hand surgeries in the last year, and have to have another one in a couple of weeks, that will be a much more extensive surgery, and a longer recovery.
And I am finding that I absolutely require more sleep in order to function well.
Parenting a teenager is just as much fun, and just as much work as I expected. I love every bloody minute of it. It is such a gift to see a child becoming a young adult, and to move out into the world. It's bittersweet as well, because I love her so much and do not look forward to the day when she doesn't lay on the foot of my bed to chat each night.
In any event, dear Emma, I love you to the stars and back. You are strong, capable, gorgeous, fun, brilliant, motivated, and just all-around wonderful, and I hope I tell you all those things enough. I am so very proud of you, despite your faults (and mine), and I am so grateful that your spirit chose me to be a mother for the first time.
Namaste my dear girl.
Friday, February 25, 2011
Connect & Breathe in UU World
I received my issue of UU World yesterday, and sat down this morning with it, and my cup of coffee. I found myself thrilled and inspired by what I read within this month. First of all, as a person with a degree in communications, I enjoyed Peter Morales' editorial on communication and learning how to do it better in the 21st century. Having accessible web presence and communications that reach people where they are - through Facebook updates sent by text, tweets, and email, are vital additions to traditional print communications.
I also really enjoyed Donald Skinner's article about A Third Place and missional work. This speaks directly to the creative ministries we were encouraged to think about in Rev. Lee Barker's class on post-denominational ministry last January at Meadville Lombard.
And of course, I totally loved the article To Listen without Judging by Kimberly French. Connect & Breathe is a reproductive justice initiative I probably wouldn't have gotten involved in had I not been at church the day Rev. Kaaren Anderson gave her sermon on abortion and sexual justice. However, I was there, and was one of the multitudes that signed up to help. Last night, I sat for my second time on the hotline with another volunteer and had such a wonderful evening chatting with my co-volunteer about feminism, sexuality, and abortion. These are topics that don't often come up in my day-to-day life outside of church. But they are key to my understanding of class, gender and justice. I definitely have more to say about these topics!
The training that C&B has put together, as well as the thoughtfulness to language and public perception of the talkline are highly impressive. I am thrilled to be a part of this work as part of my commitment to my home congregation, and as part of my internship work that I'm doing as part of seminary and ministerial formation.
And finally, it was lovely to read Myriam Renaud's article, Got God? Myriam co-taught the Liberal Theology class I took at Meadville Lombard in January, and is delightful. I was very inspired by her theology studies and approach to Unitarian Universalism through her understanding of God.
I haven't been blogging much. Family, school, illness, and internship have sucked all the hours from my days. I have homeschooling reports to write, and a paper on Pietism due today. Despite the busy-ness and other stresses, (like the foot of snow we're getting, again), I am happy. Life is full of meaning and love and gratitude.
I also really enjoyed Donald Skinner's article about A Third Place and missional work. This speaks directly to the creative ministries we were encouraged to think about in Rev. Lee Barker's class on post-denominational ministry last January at Meadville Lombard.
And of course, I totally loved the article To Listen without Judging by Kimberly French. Connect & Breathe is a reproductive justice initiative I probably wouldn't have gotten involved in had I not been at church the day Rev. Kaaren Anderson gave her sermon on abortion and sexual justice. However, I was there, and was one of the multitudes that signed up to help. Last night, I sat for my second time on the hotline with another volunteer and had such a wonderful evening chatting with my co-volunteer about feminism, sexuality, and abortion. These are topics that don't often come up in my day-to-day life outside of church. But they are key to my understanding of class, gender and justice. I definitely have more to say about these topics!
The training that C&B has put together, as well as the thoughtfulness to language and public perception of the talkline are highly impressive. I am thrilled to be a part of this work as part of my commitment to my home congregation, and as part of my internship work that I'm doing as part of seminary and ministerial formation.
And finally, it was lovely to read Myriam Renaud's article, Got God? Myriam co-taught the Liberal Theology class I took at Meadville Lombard in January, and is delightful. I was very inspired by her theology studies and approach to Unitarian Universalism through her understanding of God.
I haven't been blogging much. Family, school, illness, and internship have sucked all the hours from my days. I have homeschooling reports to write, and a paper on Pietism due today. Despite the busy-ness and other stresses, (like the foot of snow we're getting, again), I am happy. Life is full of meaning and love and gratitude.
Thursday, February 17, 2011
Rough week
No really. I don't mean to whine, but first Jude got a headache last Thursday. It turned into the flu on Friday and today is the first day he doesn't have a fever.
Lucy had a runny nose on Thursday, a fever on Friday, which has progressed to high fevers and a trip to the ER tonight with a pneumonia diagnosis.
Emma succumbed to flu-like symptoms yesterday but is fighting them off with her amazing powers.
Soren had a weekend of coughing.
Tom and I each had time off work due to the flu. I am so sick and can't sleep and I begged the doctor to just take me out back and shoot me, but she refused ;).
On top of it all, Monday was my dad's birthday. I find myself thinking of him all the time this week. I miss his presence and am oddly comforted by having all his ashes in my house currently. I can imagine the feel of my palm on his face. I can imagine his hands, his ring, his ears. I remember what it was like to touch all of those things, to run my finger over the dip in his forehead where he had bone removed during brain surgery, and how cold, cold he was, at the funeral home. I miss him so very much. I had no idea how much it would hurt to lose him.
I have spent the weeks back from Chicago in a frenzy of activity, getting kids where they need to go, trying to get caught up/started with spring semester (already!), prepping my taxes, and finishing an unexpected work project that brought in some much-needed capital.
I am always so grateful when I am healthy because I hate to be sick so much. Really hate it. I cannot wait for everyone to be well again. I will make new Wellness Resolutions about walking every day, and getting to accupuncture 2x/week!
In an event, I am so grateful for my colleagues, friends and family who have been supportive and patient during this time. My dear friend Lauren drove 2 hours today to pick up my older kids and get them to class and such, so I didn't have to drag sick babies out in the car. I love her. SO MUCH!
Anyway, off to bed. But I am filled with gratitude for the love I find myself surrounded with despite the pain and illness surrounding us right now.
Lucy had a runny nose on Thursday, a fever on Friday, which has progressed to high fevers and a trip to the ER tonight with a pneumonia diagnosis.
Emma succumbed to flu-like symptoms yesterday but is fighting them off with her amazing powers.
Soren had a weekend of coughing.
Tom and I each had time off work due to the flu. I am so sick and can't sleep and I begged the doctor to just take me out back and shoot me, but she refused ;).
On top of it all, Monday was my dad's birthday. I find myself thinking of him all the time this week. I miss his presence and am oddly comforted by having all his ashes in my house currently. I can imagine the feel of my palm on his face. I can imagine his hands, his ring, his ears. I remember what it was like to touch all of those things, to run my finger over the dip in his forehead where he had bone removed during brain surgery, and how cold, cold he was, at the funeral home. I miss him so very much. I had no idea how much it would hurt to lose him.
I have spent the weeks back from Chicago in a frenzy of activity, getting kids where they need to go, trying to get caught up/started with spring semester (already!), prepping my taxes, and finishing an unexpected work project that brought in some much-needed capital.
I am always so grateful when I am healthy because I hate to be sick so much. Really hate it. I cannot wait for everyone to be well again. I will make new Wellness Resolutions about walking every day, and getting to accupuncture 2x/week!
In an event, I am so grateful for my colleagues, friends and family who have been supportive and patient during this time. My dear friend Lauren drove 2 hours today to pick up my older kids and get them to class and such, so I didn't have to drag sick babies out in the car. I love her. SO MUCH!
Anyway, off to bed. But I am filled with gratitude for the love I find myself surrounded with despite the pain and illness surrounding us right now.
Wednesday, January 26, 2011
Internal vs. External Motivation
What do y'all think about this CarrotMobbing thing? On some level it reminds me of when my daughter was in 2nd grade (and maybe schools still do this) and the kids would get a special treat when teachers noticed them doing something good. I'm not a huge Alfie Kohn fan, but I have to admit that this seems manipulative and sets up individuals and businesses to act in a way that may not be authentic long-term.
I have never really liked the carrot or the stick approach - where do our morals come from? Where is our internal motivation to act in accordance with our beliefs and morals. But we are externally motivated by our socialization and communion with others in a way that's inextricably intertwined. This is the question that some theists ask of humanists - how can one be moral without the dogma - without the threat of eternal punishment.
Anyway, I'd rather shop at a store whose owner chose to act responsibly and ethically without being manipulated into it.
(and yes, fellow preaching students, I'm reflecting on this during our conversation on authenticity!)
I have never really liked the carrot or the stick approach - where do our morals come from? Where is our internal motivation to act in accordance with our beliefs and morals. But we are externally motivated by our socialization and communion with others in a way that's inextricably intertwined. This is the question that some theists ask of humanists - how can one be moral without the dogma - without the threat of eternal punishment.
Anyway, I'd rather shop at a store whose owner chose to act responsibly and ethically without being manipulated into it.
(and yes, fellow preaching students, I'm reflecting on this during our conversation on authenticity!)
Sunday, January 23, 2011
Hyper!
The last week of class looms - preaching for the week! I just got back to my apartment from my sister's house, where I had an absolute blast. I got to visit with her, her husband, two of her sons. My sister and I went to see a band called Soda last night with her best friend and her crazy next door neighbor. My roommates and I are going to go see them on Thursday.
I have one more major paper to write, and one fun creative project. I am homesick as hell and miss my family with a passion. I love my roommates and could not have survived J-Term without them! I want to take them all home with me. We are planning an annual retreat with each other after we graduate.
Anyway, five more days. Woohoo!!
I have one more major paper to write, and one fun creative project. I am homesick as hell and miss my family with a passion. I love my roommates and could not have survived J-Term without them! I want to take them all home with me. We are planning an annual retreat with each other after we graduate.
Anyway, five more days. Woohoo!!
Saturday, January 22, 2011
The home stretch
Another class done - Arts & Aesthetics. It was great fun, and an opportunity to bond with students I didn't know very well. I especially enjoyed our trip to the Art Institute, and hearing each of us speak about which piece of art grabbed us, and for what reason. I was busily sending photos of the artwork to my 12 year old the whole time, who is a wonderful artist. I can't wait to take her there one of these days - maybe this summer.
I still have a lot of writing to do, and I took on a paid project while I'm here, but UPS seems to have not shown up to deliver the material, which is both stressful, and also buys me a day to work on school projects.
I'm feeling quite homesick for the kids and my husband. I've talked to or Skyped with them every day, and it's been great to see how organized they're all being with school work and schedules while I'm gone. My husband seems to be enjoying the opportunity to be home and spend lots of time with all four of the kids; me being gone for a bit is an opportunity for everyone to appreciate everyone else I think!
This coming week I take on the Preaching class with Bill Schultz. I'm nervous and excited about it. I've heard wonderful things about the class, and had a class with Bill last year, so know he's a great teacher who will push us to do our best work.
Back to writing and preparing taxes, so I can go and visit with my sister tonight. She's dragging me out to see her favorite band, so I'm looking forward to a lot of fun and laughter, which is a good antidote to the stress I'm feeling about all the things I have to deal with when I get home next week.
I still have a lot of writing to do, and I took on a paid project while I'm here, but UPS seems to have not shown up to deliver the material, which is both stressful, and also buys me a day to work on school projects.
I'm feeling quite homesick for the kids and my husband. I've talked to or Skyped with them every day, and it's been great to see how organized they're all being with school work and schedules while I'm gone. My husband seems to be enjoying the opportunity to be home and spend lots of time with all four of the kids; me being gone for a bit is an opportunity for everyone to appreciate everyone else I think!
This coming week I take on the Preaching class with Bill Schultz. I'm nervous and excited about it. I've heard wonderful things about the class, and had a class with Bill last year, so know he's a great teacher who will push us to do our best work.
Back to writing and preparing taxes, so I can go and visit with my sister tonight. She's dragging me out to see her favorite band, so I'm looking forward to a lot of fun and laughter, which is a good antidote to the stress I'm feeling about all the things I have to deal with when I get home next week.
Saturday, January 15, 2011
Week One over
I have to say that even though I knew what to expect of intensives this year, it is exactly the same mix of whirling experience. I was part of a large liberal theology class for the last five days,the outcome of which is a paper identifying our five vital questions about putting our theologies into practice in our ministries. Long days of lecture and small group work, interrupted by working lunches/information sessions about UUA and ministry track issues, followed by evenings of shared meals, meetings, and early bedtimes have been exhilarating and exhausting, inspiring and overwhelming.
It's amazing to see how much our class has transformed from 18 months ago when we started this journey though. Most of us have been through Clinical Pastoral Education, a large group of us are in our internships, and we are much further into discerning where this call is taking us. It's a fascinating sociological experiment to observe this year's class, my class, the part-time students, and the students from prior programs. Part of being in ministry is learning the art of being participant/observer of your system, and being totally enveloped by the intensive seminary experience is a great opportunity to practice that skill in a safe environment where you can practice without too much fear of screwing up royally.
When I was so busy during the week, I didn't miss my home life too much, but this weekend, I'll be visiting with my sister, so things will slow down a bit. My roommate brought her daughter to visit our apartment this weekend, so I got to snuggle with her, which filled up my cup a little bit - I am missing snuggles from my own kids! Last year at January term, I realized how much physical contact I get from my kids and husband - when I'm traveling, it's very isolating physically, so it was a real gift for my friend to share her sweet kidlet with me!
I still have plenty to do this weekend - catching up on work, papers to write, reading to do. Tuesday I start Arts & Aesthetics, which I am very much looking forward to. It'll be a different kind of a class then Liberal Theology. The following week I am taking Preaching with Bill Schultz, which I am very much looking forward to.
So that's the update from the trenches. More to come as I process all of the things I've been learning.
It's amazing to see how much our class has transformed from 18 months ago when we started this journey though. Most of us have been through Clinical Pastoral Education, a large group of us are in our internships, and we are much further into discerning where this call is taking us. It's a fascinating sociological experiment to observe this year's class, my class, the part-time students, and the students from prior programs. Part of being in ministry is learning the art of being participant/observer of your system, and being totally enveloped by the intensive seminary experience is a great opportunity to practice that skill in a safe environment where you can practice without too much fear of screwing up royally.
When I was so busy during the week, I didn't miss my home life too much, but this weekend, I'll be visiting with my sister, so things will slow down a bit. My roommate brought her daughter to visit our apartment this weekend, so I got to snuggle with her, which filled up my cup a little bit - I am missing snuggles from my own kids! Last year at January term, I realized how much physical contact I get from my kids and husband - when I'm traveling, it's very isolating physically, so it was a real gift for my friend to share her sweet kidlet with me!
I still have plenty to do this weekend - catching up on work, papers to write, reading to do. Tuesday I start Arts & Aesthetics, which I am very much looking forward to. It'll be a different kind of a class then Liberal Theology. The following week I am taking Preaching with Bill Schultz, which I am very much looking forward to.
So that's the update from the trenches. More to come as I process all of the things I've been learning.
Thursday, January 13, 2011
January, January
It seems to have been a long time since I have journaled. Much of my writing energy has been going to homilies, papers, reading journals, etc. I have also not been writing much publicly, because I have some personal things going on that are making me a little paranoid about putting anything about my schedule, my schooling, my path, my parenting, out into the public eye.
In any event, I'm just about to finish up my first intensive class of the year at Meadville Lombard, and have been thoroughly engaged by my Liberal Theology class, taught by Mike Hogue. It has given me a good context historically and theologically, for which to imagine the practicalities of ministry in a parish setting.
I am going to see my sister this weekend, and write some papers. I am thrilled to get to visit with her. I have been Skyping with the kids and my husband almost daily, which is wonderful. A combination of child care, time off work for my husband, and a few hours of childcare by my two oldest has made things run smoothly. Everyone is on a good schedule (better than when I'm there apparently LOL) of school work, chores, and playtime!
I have the best roommates in the world. We're staying in a B&B near the school, and are having fun with our rampant sarcasm, theological musings, and cooking all manner of yummy food.
I miss home but have been so engaged by school that the time has flown by. Tomorrow another dinner with friends after the last day of my first class.
I am also doing the final pieces of paperwork to turn into the RSCC for my return interview in April. I am very excited and a little bit anxious about it. This has been a year of tremendous ministerial growth for me.
I am also missing my teaching congregation and my home congregation; and thankful for morning prayer with colleagues, and Vespers on Wednesday evenings.
Anyway, I'm fully off to the races here, and it's fabulous!
In any event, I'm just about to finish up my first intensive class of the year at Meadville Lombard, and have been thoroughly engaged by my Liberal Theology class, taught by Mike Hogue. It has given me a good context historically and theologically, for which to imagine the practicalities of ministry in a parish setting.
I am going to see my sister this weekend, and write some papers. I am thrilled to get to visit with her. I have been Skyping with the kids and my husband almost daily, which is wonderful. A combination of child care, time off work for my husband, and a few hours of childcare by my two oldest has made things run smoothly. Everyone is on a good schedule (better than when I'm there apparently LOL) of school work, chores, and playtime!
I have the best roommates in the world. We're staying in a B&B near the school, and are having fun with our rampant sarcasm, theological musings, and cooking all manner of yummy food.
I miss home but have been so engaged by school that the time has flown by. Tomorrow another dinner with friends after the last day of my first class.
I am also doing the final pieces of paperwork to turn into the RSCC for my return interview in April. I am very excited and a little bit anxious about it. This has been a year of tremendous ministerial growth for me.
I am also missing my teaching congregation and my home congregation; and thankful for morning prayer with colleagues, and Vespers on Wednesday evenings.
Anyway, I'm fully off to the races here, and it's fabulous!
Friday, December 31, 2010
New Year
Oh, I am so happy to say goodbye to 2010, although there were many moments of transformation.
January I got all fired up about people who call Unitarian Universalism a "movement" rather than a religion. Found a teaching minister (at my current teaching congregation, May Memorial UU Society of Syracuse). Applied and interviewed for summer Clinical Pastoral Education at Strong Hospital. My mother had a stroke. I attended my first intensive classes at Meadville Lombard and had a wonderful experience with coursework, collegiality, family visits, and worship. I was also involved in a Flash Mob at my home congregation! I embraced prayer and daily spiritual practice in a meaningful way.
February I dealt with sick children, tried unsuccessfully to plan regular dates with my husband, and enjoyed Teen Soul Matters. I spent quite a bit of time reflecting on the Catholicism of my youth and my enjoyment of ritual and finding a way to make Lent meaningful in my current theology. I got riled up about class and oppression through a lens of theology and my work at the homeless teen center.
March I got accepted to CPE! I managed to make it through half a semester of New Testament studies. I began seriously preparing for my RSCC interview. I thought about righteous indignation and prophetic voice vs. anger. I got new sneakers for the first time in many years, and my aged cat decided to crawl under our porch as his last resting place.
April My RSCC interview ended in a postponement and excruciating disappointment, though there were no red flags. We got a new puppy, whom is still causing me no end of angst. I had wrist surgery (which incidentially is still not healed completely). I started coming to closure at my community placement site, where I was working as a counselor at a homeless shelter for inner city kids. I attended my first District Assembly and had a great time, and then got to play DRE and run children's worship at my home congregation, where I was still working as RE assistant. FUN! I was approved as the ministerial intern at MMUUS! We had three cats die in one month, and the new puppy had to have major xrays to figure out what was wrong with her hip.
May I finished my first entire year of graduate school, then watched my older kids perform in two plays, and visited the Lilac Festival with my whole family. I tackle the idea of what I think the soul is, thanks to a post over at UU Salon. I took on city hall about keeping my chickens and WON! I mulled on the aging of my parents and the difficulties of being in the sandwich generation. My friend lost her teenager to drug abuse, and I started CPE at a Trauma One hospital.
June Death and i come to an uneasy arrangement. I become transformed by working in hospital chaplaincy, and I find God in my everyday life. I embrace prayer in my own UU way, and make it my own. I explore race and privilege, as well as dignity and end of life issues. I explore ministerial authority, right relation, experiencing God, and becoming.
July I continued immersed in chaplaincy and my first infant death. I focus on who I am, who I'm with, and who we become together. I wrestled with my womanhood and gender issues in ministry. I begin to offer loving-kindness to myself during meditation each day - something I hadn't realized was missing.
August In which I finish my chaplaincy internship and miss it desperately. I ruminate on my forceful nature, and why we live, which after a summer of death and illness, seems appropriate. I begin to sport a lovely case of poison ivy, passed to me by my loving four year old daughter. I prepare to become the mom of a six year old son, and work on my own authenticity.
September I head back to Chicago with joy in my heart! I stay with my friend Karen and her amazing family. I soak up all the collegiality I can stand before I come home again. I preached at my internship congregation for the first time and got lovely feedback, my 14 year old daughter started community college, my family delved into my new internship congregation and got to go to Unirondack and kayak, create, sing and worship; I ruminate on the different hats I wear: parent, friend, minister, student, colleague...; and the importance of silence in my daily life.
October October was the month of conferences and trainings! I went to the SLD Leadership Workout and got a shot in the arm about Systems theory by Steinke, which I was already studying at Meadville. I helped Rebecca Parker, President of Starr King, with her book sales after she preached and lectured at First Unitarian Church of Rochester; I went to a training for Connect & Breathe, a post-abortion talkline; and I did the closing service at the SLD's social justice conference. My dreams tell me to Choose Life and read to me from Hafiz and Rumi; my oldest half-brother died suddenly, necessitating hard decisions about informing my father, who had dementia; and then served in a wedding the next day. I reflect further on the complications of family and dementia.
November I have wrist surgery on my other hand, and have a cast for 10 days. I fall in love with my new Wellspring group, I struggle with conflict resolution as a faith-based practice of right relation; my 2nd child turns 12, and my father dies of a sudden heart attack, leaving my life in disarray and a gaping hole. I preached soon thereafter and got through it with flying colors somehow. Thanksgiving is a bit of a drab affair, but we manage. I have all of my father's things to go through but am not ready yet.
December I have a birthday. We celebrate a scaled down Christmas, except my MIL goes crazy and buys a million gifts! My youngest daughter turns four and I reflect on her wonderful homebirth. We go home to visit friends and my mother, who offloads all the jewelry that my dad has given her over the years. I cry. I am tired. My children all act insane while we are traveling. They miss their grandfather, they miss home, they are hormonal and wired and crazed. We are home and ready to welcome in the New Year. We will all be asleep when it arrives, so PARTY ON FOLKs!!
January I got all fired up about people who call Unitarian Universalism a "movement" rather than a religion. Found a teaching minister (at my current teaching congregation, May Memorial UU Society of Syracuse). Applied and interviewed for summer Clinical Pastoral Education at Strong Hospital. My mother had a stroke. I attended my first intensive classes at Meadville Lombard and had a wonderful experience with coursework, collegiality, family visits, and worship. I was also involved in a Flash Mob at my home congregation! I embraced prayer and daily spiritual practice in a meaningful way.
February I dealt with sick children, tried unsuccessfully to plan regular dates with my husband, and enjoyed Teen Soul Matters. I spent quite a bit of time reflecting on the Catholicism of my youth and my enjoyment of ritual and finding a way to make Lent meaningful in my current theology. I got riled up about class and oppression through a lens of theology and my work at the homeless teen center.
March I got accepted to CPE! I managed to make it through half a semester of New Testament studies. I began seriously preparing for my RSCC interview. I thought about righteous indignation and prophetic voice vs. anger. I got new sneakers for the first time in many years, and my aged cat decided to crawl under our porch as his last resting place.
April My RSCC interview ended in a postponement and excruciating disappointment, though there were no red flags. We got a new puppy, whom is still causing me no end of angst. I had wrist surgery (which incidentially is still not healed completely). I started coming to closure at my community placement site, where I was working as a counselor at a homeless shelter for inner city kids. I attended my first District Assembly and had a great time, and then got to play DRE and run children's worship at my home congregation, where I was still working as RE assistant. FUN! I was approved as the ministerial intern at MMUUS! We had three cats die in one month, and the new puppy had to have major xrays to figure out what was wrong with her hip.
May I finished my first entire year of graduate school, then watched my older kids perform in two plays, and visited the Lilac Festival with my whole family. I tackle the idea of what I think the soul is, thanks to a post over at UU Salon. I took on city hall about keeping my chickens and WON! I mulled on the aging of my parents and the difficulties of being in the sandwich generation. My friend lost her teenager to drug abuse, and I started CPE at a Trauma One hospital.
June Death and i come to an uneasy arrangement. I become transformed by working in hospital chaplaincy, and I find God in my everyday life. I embrace prayer in my own UU way, and make it my own. I explore race and privilege, as well as dignity and end of life issues. I explore ministerial authority, right relation, experiencing God, and becoming.
July I continued immersed in chaplaincy and my first infant death. I focus on who I am, who I'm with, and who we become together. I wrestled with my womanhood and gender issues in ministry. I begin to offer loving-kindness to myself during meditation each day - something I hadn't realized was missing.
August In which I finish my chaplaincy internship and miss it desperately. I ruminate on my forceful nature, and why we live, which after a summer of death and illness, seems appropriate. I begin to sport a lovely case of poison ivy, passed to me by my loving four year old daughter. I prepare to become the mom of a six year old son, and work on my own authenticity.
September I head back to Chicago with joy in my heart! I stay with my friend Karen and her amazing family. I soak up all the collegiality I can stand before I come home again. I preached at my internship congregation for the first time and got lovely feedback, my 14 year old daughter started community college, my family delved into my new internship congregation and got to go to Unirondack and kayak, create, sing and worship; I ruminate on the different hats I wear: parent, friend, minister, student, colleague...; and the importance of silence in my daily life.
October October was the month of conferences and trainings! I went to the SLD Leadership Workout and got a shot in the arm about Systems theory by Steinke, which I was already studying at Meadville. I helped Rebecca Parker, President of Starr King, with her book sales after she preached and lectured at First Unitarian Church of Rochester; I went to a training for Connect & Breathe, a post-abortion talkline; and I did the closing service at the SLD's social justice conference. My dreams tell me to Choose Life and read to me from Hafiz and Rumi; my oldest half-brother died suddenly, necessitating hard decisions about informing my father, who had dementia; and then served in a wedding the next day. I reflect further on the complications of family and dementia.
November I have wrist surgery on my other hand, and have a cast for 10 days. I fall in love with my new Wellspring group, I struggle with conflict resolution as a faith-based practice of right relation; my 2nd child turns 12, and my father dies of a sudden heart attack, leaving my life in disarray and a gaping hole. I preached soon thereafter and got through it with flying colors somehow. Thanksgiving is a bit of a drab affair, but we manage. I have all of my father's things to go through but am not ready yet.
December I have a birthday. We celebrate a scaled down Christmas, except my MIL goes crazy and buys a million gifts! My youngest daughter turns four and I reflect on her wonderful homebirth. We go home to visit friends and my mother, who offloads all the jewelry that my dad has given her over the years. I cry. I am tired. My children all act insane while we are traveling. They miss their grandfather, they miss home, they are hormonal and wired and crazed. We are home and ready to welcome in the New Year. We will all be asleep when it arrives, so PARTY ON FOLKs!!
Saturday, December 18, 2010
Sunday, December 5, 2010
Commissioned
I was approached by the Director of Lay Ministries and the Associate Minister at my home congregation in Rochester to become part of the Pastoral Care Team, along with many other people. A final group of about 9 of us went through training, and this weekend were commissioned by the congregation at all three services.
I cannot even tell you what an honor it was, and how humbling it was, to stand before the congregation that I love so much, that has supported every step of my ministerial preparation so far, and to enter into covenant with them to serve their pastoral needs the best way I can. My heart was full to overflowing and I am so grateful to be standing with such an amazing team of people.
My friend Michael, who I served my chaplaincy internship with last summer, came last evening to support me, which was such a wonderful gift. My son came today, and sat in the back, smiling, winking and mouthing "I love you" and blowing me kisses the whole time I was on stage. I'm sure the congregation must have wondered why I was grinning like an idiot, but that's why. My own son was so proud to have me up there. That's my mom! I was sad not to have my other family members there, but circumstances prevented it.
I am so grateful to be asked to continue my learning of pastoral ministry at Rochester Unitarian, and to serve my congregation in this way. It will also be a continuing asset to my internship at May Memorial UU, as I maintain and add to my pastoral care skills.
Honestly, the best I can say is that my heart was full. I wish my dad could have been there.
I cannot even tell you what an honor it was, and how humbling it was, to stand before the congregation that I love so much, that has supported every step of my ministerial preparation so far, and to enter into covenant with them to serve their pastoral needs the best way I can. My heart was full to overflowing and I am so grateful to be standing with such an amazing team of people.
My friend Michael, who I served my chaplaincy internship with last summer, came last evening to support me, which was such a wonderful gift. My son came today, and sat in the back, smiling, winking and mouthing "I love you" and blowing me kisses the whole time I was on stage. I'm sure the congregation must have wondered why I was grinning like an idiot, but that's why. My own son was so proud to have me up there. That's my mom! I was sad not to have my other family members there, but circumstances prevented it.
I am so grateful to be asked to continue my learning of pastoral ministry at Rochester Unitarian, and to serve my congregation in this way. It will also be a continuing asset to my internship at May Memorial UU, as I maintain and add to my pastoral care skills.
Honestly, the best I can say is that my heart was full. I wish my dad could have been there.
Wednesday, December 1, 2010
About 25%
I am coming up on being about 1/4 of the way into my congregational internship. I did my mid-term evaluation with my teaching minister today, and have my second meeting with my lay committee on Monday. I'm feeling more serious about formation, as the real work of taking criticism and working through it begins. I'm also about 1/2 way through the whole seminary experience - more than 1/2 in terms of credits, or at least I will be, at the end of January.
I had a lengthy meeting with my minister today, which was a great conversation about theology and beliefs, which believe it or not, can be difficult to have with one's congregation. The faculty at Meadville Lombard asked us, at this point, to reflect on what we have learned about congregational life, and about ourselves as ministers, as well as what we use as theological resources.
I am still waffling back and forth about how much I loved chaplaincy, and what I should do with that desire. Should I go and do a one year residency after I graduate, and take that time to meet with the Ministerial Fellowship Committee? The difference between chaplaincy and congregational ministry for me is that I love the intensity of chaplaincy. I love what it is, I love being there, I love the intentionality of it. I love the diversity of congregational life, I love the long-term knowledge of people's lives and stories, I love preaching, I love small group ministry. If I could find a way to do both, I would. And maybe there is a way to do that, but I just don't know yet. And so...do I jump right into more training (though paid) as a resident chaplain in another 18 months? God, I'm waiting for a sign ;).
I'm also feeling just about 25% right now. I am so unmotivated to finish the three assignments I have left for my church history class that I can barely stand it. I have SO much prep to do for January and have not been able to do almost any of it. I have a lot going on in my personal life that is taking a lot of energy, yet I have been spending more time with the kids than ever, doing homeschooling, and fun stuff, and it is SO great! It is the one thing that is truly energizing right now.
Maybe if I can convince the girls to decorate for Christmas, it will cheer up the house and have a positive effect on me!
I had a lengthy meeting with my minister today, which was a great conversation about theology and beliefs, which believe it or not, can be difficult to have with one's congregation. The faculty at Meadville Lombard asked us, at this point, to reflect on what we have learned about congregational life, and about ourselves as ministers, as well as what we use as theological resources.
I am still waffling back and forth about how much I loved chaplaincy, and what I should do with that desire. Should I go and do a one year residency after I graduate, and take that time to meet with the Ministerial Fellowship Committee? The difference between chaplaincy and congregational ministry for me is that I love the intensity of chaplaincy. I love what it is, I love being there, I love the intentionality of it. I love the diversity of congregational life, I love the long-term knowledge of people's lives and stories, I love preaching, I love small group ministry. If I could find a way to do both, I would. And maybe there is a way to do that, but I just don't know yet. And so...do I jump right into more training (though paid) as a resident chaplain in another 18 months? God, I'm waiting for a sign ;).
I'm also feeling just about 25% right now. I am so unmotivated to finish the three assignments I have left for my church history class that I can barely stand it. I have SO much prep to do for January and have not been able to do almost any of it. I have a lot going on in my personal life that is taking a lot of energy, yet I have been spending more time with the kids than ever, doing homeschooling, and fun stuff, and it is SO great! It is the one thing that is truly energizing right now.
Maybe if I can convince the girls to decorate for Christmas, it will cheer up the house and have a positive effect on me!
Sunday, November 28, 2010
Preaching, Napping, Shopping
I had the typical intern assignment (or so I hear) of preaching on the holiday weekend, but had a pretty full house! When I planned the service, I had no idea that it would be so pertinent to my life in the moment when I was standing up to preach it. It was on the darkness that some people face in this time of light and bustle of holiday time, and how we are called as people of faith to pay attention and be open to the needs of those around us, whether spoken or not. I'll post some of the readings at the end. The first reading I used mentions God several times - someone walked out during it, but whether it was in response to God, or a call to the restroom, I will never know, though that person didn't come back as far as I know.
I read through the service quite a bit yesterday, not sure if I could make it through it with my own grief so fresh and sharp, but once I got onto the stage, everything fell into place. One person told me today that I am perhaps an example of the "best kind of humanist," and I took that as a glowing compliment. Another told me that she couldn't say that she enjoyed the sermon, but it certainly gave her food for thought (I admit, there were dark parts to it, but life is not all goodness and light, now is it?).
I credit my success in large part to preparation, but also to the love and care of our music director, Glen, who was incredibly solicitous of me, empowered me to change the order of service as needed, and did a great job planning music while I was on personal leave. His quiet emanation of love and support from the piano was palpable to me as I led the service, and for the first time, I really felt like I owned it. It was mine. Start to finish, music, readings, my scarf falling off in the middle of my sermon, stumbling over a word here or there...it was mine to own. I also had the most gorgeous decor behind me on the sacred shelf; I wish I had a photo of it to show you, because it was so creative and soft and touching!
In any event, it was a good way to get "back on the horse" after a week of grief and mourning. A dear congregant came up to me and told me that when her husband died, she got herself to sleep that first night, and woke up in the morning only to open her eyes and think: "GodDAMN, he's still dead!" It made me laugh, but it was also so true. I have received so many cards, calls and emails from the congregants at my teaching site and my home congregation that I am overwhelmed with the love of it all. I feel incredibly blessed to be going through this loss while in ministerial formation. There is no other time in one's life probably when I will again have this kind of daily support and love from such a wide and diverse group of colleagues, professors, friends, family and congregants.
I continue to grieve. The thought of my father's hands - large, confident, firm, but gentle. The idea that those hands have doppelgangers on the person of my uncle is a comfort. I feel my father's spirit strongly. I see it in my son, where I had not noticed it before, but he has my father's wave of curl on the back of his head, his outgoing and laughing personality, his ability to make friends instantly and everywhere. I have been arranging photos and wrestling with the complexities of his life and its impact on my extended family, many of whom are estranged or barely known to me, often for reasons that are barely known.
I feel love, anger, loss, pain. I want to bargain, though I am glad he is finally at peace. I said everything I needed to say to him back in July when I went home during CPE training to be with him during his TIA. But there is always one more affirmation of love we can give.
So I came home, I tried to nap. And failed. And took my oldest daughter - just her and I - to the outlets for a new winter coat for her. She looks dashing in a navy blue pea coat and a black autumn trench coat. We bought a few small gifts for her siblings, and had fun at the grocery store after. My children have been seeking me out for this one on one time. A private chat here, a movie there; someone sprawled across the foot of my bed, telling me their frustrations, hopes, dreams and successes.
Sundays are my favorite days. Church and family. Work and ministry. School, learning, love, life. It's all of a piece on Sunday.
I think I'm ready to re-enter the world tomorrow. The first Monday of a new life without George. But with his memory and his spirit at hand.
Readings:
Every morning a new arrival.
some momentary awareness comes
I read through the service quite a bit yesterday, not sure if I could make it through it with my own grief so fresh and sharp, but once I got onto the stage, everything fell into place. One person told me today that I am perhaps an example of the "best kind of humanist," and I took that as a glowing compliment. Another told me that she couldn't say that she enjoyed the sermon, but it certainly gave her food for thought (I admit, there were dark parts to it, but life is not all goodness and light, now is it?).
I credit my success in large part to preparation, but also to the love and care of our music director, Glen, who was incredibly solicitous of me, empowered me to change the order of service as needed, and did a great job planning music while I was on personal leave. His quiet emanation of love and support from the piano was palpable to me as I led the service, and for the first time, I really felt like I owned it. It was mine. Start to finish, music, readings, my scarf falling off in the middle of my sermon, stumbling over a word here or there...it was mine to own. I also had the most gorgeous decor behind me on the sacred shelf; I wish I had a photo of it to show you, because it was so creative and soft and touching!
In any event, it was a good way to get "back on the horse" after a week of grief and mourning. A dear congregant came up to me and told me that when her husband died, she got herself to sleep that first night, and woke up in the morning only to open her eyes and think: "GodDAMN, he's still dead!" It made me laugh, but it was also so true. I have received so many cards, calls and emails from the congregants at my teaching site and my home congregation that I am overwhelmed with the love of it all. I feel incredibly blessed to be going through this loss while in ministerial formation. There is no other time in one's life probably when I will again have this kind of daily support and love from such a wide and diverse group of colleagues, professors, friends, family and congregants.
I continue to grieve. The thought of my father's hands - large, confident, firm, but gentle. The idea that those hands have doppelgangers on the person of my uncle is a comfort. I feel my father's spirit strongly. I see it in my son, where I had not noticed it before, but he has my father's wave of curl on the back of his head, his outgoing and laughing personality, his ability to make friends instantly and everywhere. I have been arranging photos and wrestling with the complexities of his life and its impact on my extended family, many of whom are estranged or barely known to me, often for reasons that are barely known.
I feel love, anger, loss, pain. I want to bargain, though I am glad he is finally at peace. I said everything I needed to say to him back in July when I went home during CPE training to be with him during his TIA. But there is always one more affirmation of love we can give.
So I came home, I tried to nap. And failed. And took my oldest daughter - just her and I - to the outlets for a new winter coat for her. She looks dashing in a navy blue pea coat and a black autumn trench coat. We bought a few small gifts for her siblings, and had fun at the grocery store after. My children have been seeking me out for this one on one time. A private chat here, a movie there; someone sprawled across the foot of my bed, telling me their frustrations, hopes, dreams and successes.
Sundays are my favorite days. Church and family. Work and ministry. School, learning, love, life. It's all of a piece on Sunday.
I think I'm ready to re-enter the world tomorrow. The first Monday of a new life without George. But with his memory and his spirit at hand.
Readings:
The holiday season is upon us, and as David Barry so sagely said,
In the old days, it was not called the
Holiday Season; the Christians called
it 'Christmas' and went to church; the
Jews called it 'Hanukka' and went to
synagogue; the atheists went to
parties and drank. People passing
each other on the street would say
'Merry Christmas!' or 'Happy
Hanukka!' or (to the atheists) 'Look
out for the wall!'
Rumi, the great Sufi mystic, says:
This being human is a guesthouse.
Every morning a new arrival.
A joy, a depression, a meanness,
some momentary awareness comes
as an unexpected visitor.
Welcome and entertain them all!
Even if they're a crowd of sorrows,
who violently sweep your house
empty of its furniture,
still, treat each guest honorably.
He may be clearing you out
for some new delight . . .
Be grateful for whoever comes,
because each has been sent
as a guide from beyond.
Thursday, November 25, 2010
Living with Death
My father, George Spahr, Jr. died last Friday. When I woke up this morning, I found it difficult to believe that it will be a week tomorrow. It has all been a blur of phone calls, emails, arrangements, and a flood of feelings that would make Kubler-Ross proud.
My dad had been in assisted living/senior apartments/nursing home dementia care for most of the last 20 years, and for more than 10 of those years, I was his guardian and power of attorney. The last five years, he was in a dementia unit, where he couldn't wander off and get hurt or lost, and yet, he was the most "with it" patient there, and spent a lot of time on the other floors, doing activities and entertaining the staff.
On this Thanksgiving Day, I am incredibly grateful for the staff at Centre Crest, in Bellefonte, PA. The nurses and recreational therapists kept my father active, his brain stimulated, and appreciated (for the most part) his humor and flirting. I was so relieved to have him in a safe environment, where he was loved. The staff even took him home for holiday dinners, and helped him pick out small presents for my children and I each Christmas. The last two years have been increasingly difficult, as his mobility was more compromised, and I couldn't take him out as much, while trying to manage my two young children at the same time. I missed taking him to the People's Choice Festival, and to Memorial Day festivities in Boalsburg, PA, where I grew up.
I have so much gratitude and a pile of thank you notes to send out. I have dozens of notes and emails that I have filed in a folder to be answered when I am feeling ready; I have phone calls to return. I am blessed to have friends in my home town who hosted my family, provided a luncheon after the service (Thank you to Jane and Anne, and my mom), my uncle and aunt who drove from Brooklyn, NY to support me and honor my father's life, and my former minister, Rev. Mark Hayes from the UUFCC, who provided a lovely Celebration of Life.
The Heintzelman Funeral Home in State College was outstanding in their compassion, kindness and professionalism. I know it was a small service, but it meant the world to me, and they treated me with the same respect I believe they would have showed to the wealthiest family in town. Jan took care of every single detail, including getting my father's veteran's records, planning the eventual burial of my father's ashes in Manchester, PA, and handling everything with grace and delicacy. I cannot recommend them highly enough to anyone local to central PA. My husband has born the brunt of childcare and cooking for days now. He gracefully took care of the children during the planning of, and the services themselves. He has been in the background of every moment, bringing me coffee and plates of food and letting me sleep when I can. He has respected my private grief, and I have watched his own on his tired and drawn face. He has been right there, as was my mother, my sister, my dearest friends. I may not have acknowledged them in the moment, but their love has allowed me to do what needed to be done, and it now allows me to take this quiet time before I must get back to course work, internship and parenting.
Rev. Hayes read something (I have the book somewhere around, as he kindly gave me a copy for my personal and ministerial use) about Why? That this is the unanswerable question of death. I have not been sleeping well, waking in the middle of the night for hours. My friend Jane counseled me to consider this time a gift - a time of quiet reflection away from the business of the day - and I've been trying to see it that way. These late night times have given me some space to grieve in the whirlwind of the last week. Our culture does not give us a lot of time, but I have had what I'm sure are the same feelings and thoughts of many people who have dealt with death and grief, as we all must.
This is getting long, so I will write more in another post - I process and learn through writing, and it's easier for me to deal with logistics and facts at first, and then make room for the feelings. I've had good advice from friends - make time to grieve now, while the world gives you space. Be prepared for it to be even worse in a year. One thing ministry has taught me is to take care of myself - all those people screaming self-care at me have been heard. I have turned off the phone, filed the notes and emails, and have gone into a private time.
I know my dad is gone, but I can't really believe it. I miss him.
My dad had been in assisted living/senior apartments/nursing home dementia care for most of the last 20 years, and for more than 10 of those years, I was his guardian and power of attorney. The last five years, he was in a dementia unit, where he couldn't wander off and get hurt or lost, and yet, he was the most "with it" patient there, and spent a lot of time on the other floors, doing activities and entertaining the staff.
On this Thanksgiving Day, I am incredibly grateful for the staff at Centre Crest, in Bellefonte, PA. The nurses and recreational therapists kept my father active, his brain stimulated, and appreciated (for the most part) his humor and flirting. I was so relieved to have him in a safe environment, where he was loved. The staff even took him home for holiday dinners, and helped him pick out small presents for my children and I each Christmas. The last two years have been increasingly difficult, as his mobility was more compromised, and I couldn't take him out as much, while trying to manage my two young children at the same time. I missed taking him to the People's Choice Festival, and to Memorial Day festivities in Boalsburg, PA, where I grew up.
I have so much gratitude and a pile of thank you notes to send out. I have dozens of notes and emails that I have filed in a folder to be answered when I am feeling ready; I have phone calls to return. I am blessed to have friends in my home town who hosted my family, provided a luncheon after the service (Thank you to Jane and Anne, and my mom), my uncle and aunt who drove from Brooklyn, NY to support me and honor my father's life, and my former minister, Rev. Mark Hayes from the UUFCC, who provided a lovely Celebration of Life.
The Heintzelman Funeral Home in State College was outstanding in their compassion, kindness and professionalism. I know it was a small service, but it meant the world to me, and they treated me with the same respect I believe they would have showed to the wealthiest family in town. Jan took care of every single detail, including getting my father's veteran's records, planning the eventual burial of my father's ashes in Manchester, PA, and handling everything with grace and delicacy. I cannot recommend them highly enough to anyone local to central PA. My husband has born the brunt of childcare and cooking for days now. He gracefully took care of the children during the planning of, and the services themselves. He has been in the background of every moment, bringing me coffee and plates of food and letting me sleep when I can. He has respected my private grief, and I have watched his own on his tired and drawn face. He has been right there, as was my mother, my sister, my dearest friends. I may not have acknowledged them in the moment, but their love has allowed me to do what needed to be done, and it now allows me to take this quiet time before I must get back to course work, internship and parenting.
Rev. Hayes read something (I have the book somewhere around, as he kindly gave me a copy for my personal and ministerial use) about Why? That this is the unanswerable question of death. I have not been sleeping well, waking in the middle of the night for hours. My friend Jane counseled me to consider this time a gift - a time of quiet reflection away from the business of the day - and I've been trying to see it that way. These late night times have given me some space to grieve in the whirlwind of the last week. Our culture does not give us a lot of time, but I have had what I'm sure are the same feelings and thoughts of many people who have dealt with death and grief, as we all must.
This is getting long, so I will write more in another post - I process and learn through writing, and it's easier for me to deal with logistics and facts at first, and then make room for the feelings. I've had good advice from friends - make time to grieve now, while the world gives you space. Be prepared for it to be even worse in a year. One thing ministry has taught me is to take care of myself - all those people screaming self-care at me have been heard. I have turned off the phone, filed the notes and emails, and have gone into a private time.
I know my dad is gone, but I can't really believe it. I miss him.
Thursday, November 18, 2010
Twelve
On Saturday, my second daughter will be 12. Hard to believe really. But she is, and she is wonderful, intelligent, creative, artistic, FUN!, loving, thoughtful, and absolutely unique!
Happy birthday Soren! I love you all the way to the stars and back!
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