Therefore be it resolved...

So I used to be one of those people who, at Annual Conference, didn't think the resolutions we passed made any difference. Supporting Fair Trade coffee - great! - but does it really matter Petitioning General Conference about the conflict between Israel and Palestine - what's the point? Who actually listens?

After my time at the Young Clergy Leadership Forum last month sponsored by the General Board of Church and Society of the United Methodist Church in Washington, DC -- I get it.

First of all -- how cool is it that the United Methodists own the only non-federally owned building on Capitol Hill? They let the Episcopalians, the Lutherans, the Jews, and the Muslims have space in the building. When the building was purchased in 1923, women were the ones who raised 70% of the money. Granted, they were really concerned about temperance at the time and thought a presence in Washington would lend greater support to their position. While the issues may have changed since then, the fact that the United Methodists have a witness right in the center of power is pretty amazing.

Secondly - our legislated positions as a church (those things that get passed every four years at General Conference) allow the General Board of Church and Society to do advocacy work with the House and Senate. I never realized that we had a branch of the church that did this kind of work. We had folks advocating for the health care bill. We have folks advocating on behalf of the poor, marginalized, and those without a voice. All because we as a denomination take stances on issues in the world.

For me -- this what was missing. We say we believe all these things as a denomination or we pass all these resolutions and it felt like it was just going out into the ether. We can say whatever the heck we like, but unless it gets lived out it doesn't mean anything. The GBCS is trying to live that out - to take what we say we believe and make it real in public policy, in the ministry of our churches, and in our lives.

There's a lot of work to do. One agency can't possibly do everything. This is why it is so important for local churches (and conferences!) to be active in their communities living out their faith and to address issues of injustice where they can. Each one of us can affect change. Each one of us can help God's kingdom be made a little more real in our world. What we say we believe is nothing unless it can be backed up by concrete actions.

I'm grateful for the three days I spent learning. It was a lot like drinking from a firehose, but I discovered I am pretty passionate about food justice issues and how we treat the environment. As it turns out, The Vine's starting some conversations about starting up a Food Co-op because it is so difficult in Haverhill to have access to quality food when the Farmer's Market is not in season, and for many families living on the edge, access to nutritional food is very limited. I am excited about the possibilities of where this conversation will lead, because I believe it will make a tangible difference in the lives of many people - especially as we continue the journey towards health and wholeness.

So thank you, General Board of Church and Society, for all the hard work you do -- not on behalf of the church, but on behalf of those without a voice. Thank you for educating us on the issues, for teaching us how to engage in these conversations from a faith perspective, and for allowing me the opportunity to learn and grow!

Photo Journaling

It has been a few weeks since I've posted here; lots of stuff has been happening - a ramp up in fundraising for the trip to Guatemala, a trip to DC (to be blogged about later), snowstorms, and Lent has begun. This year, Ben and I (along with Natalie, our current housemate) are posting everything we eat on Intstagram with the hashtag #40daylentchallenge. Social humiliation diet (although I do appreciate what my friend on Facebook said about it being an alternate form of table grace. There's a post in there somewhere).

I'm also doing the Rethink Church Photo-A-Day project (again on Instagram with hashtag #rethinkchurch). Fun times. I enjoy taking pictures - and it's a lot easier since my parents got me an Eye-Fi card for Christmas (yay mom and dad!) It essentially uploads pictures to the internet straight from my camera.

One day, I hope to do more with my photography - especially when it comes to editing pictures and enhancing colors and the like. I feel like I have a decent eye to begin with; I try to get shots that convey a meaning and a message and are fun to look at -- and that tell a story. I am looking forward to going to Guatemala with my camera for just that reason - the opportunity to tell a story with what I capture.

More to come: a debrief from the Global Board of Church and Society Young Clergy Leadership Forum, my fun new hobby (yes, I will survive the zombie apocalypse), and some thoughts about liberation theology. Stay tuned!

Unfinished Projects

This is a picture of my current knitting project. Pretty, right? It's super fun and easy to make (pattern here). Problem is, this may be the 20th craft project that I've started.

I love starting things. Books, computer games, projects - doesn't matter what. But I really stink at finishing. Sometimes, as is the case with some books, I discover half-way through that it isn't worth my time finishing it and so back it goes to the library, the end never to be revealed to me. (I used to feel guilty about quitting books, but there are so many good books out there that I shouldn't waste my time on the ones I don't enjoy). Sometimes, I don't finish projects because I don't want the good times to end. This happens mainly with computer games or TV series (for instance, I haven't seen the last two or three episodes of Firefly. Yes, I do have Netflix).

Usually, though, it's because I love to start new projects. I get bored with the old stuff. I have two-thirds of a sock on a set of needles. I have a lacy pullover I've been working on forever. I have a skirt that just needs some light finish work (think: elastic band). I have two cross-stitch projects that will take me until I'm eighty to finish (no matter how much I work on them). I have a wedding present in process...from five years ago. Oops.*

I should really take pictures of all these works-in-progress for some accountability purposes. I could make it a goal to finish some of these projects by the end of the year. I could have all of you, dear readers, encouraging me on to get them all done.

But that would just be another project to start...and never finish.




*This doesn't include the unfinished projects that I inherited from both deceased grandmothers. Yikes. I'm totally going to be them when I'm older. I pity my poor future grandchildren.

Transitions

This past Sunday, Ben and I announced to Good Shepherd UMC that we'll be leaving to go to full time ministry with The Vine as of July 1, 2013. We are excited to embark on this "new" adventure with God though we are also sad to leave behind working with the congregation in a pastoral capacity. (If you want to read the announcement we e-mailed to our folks, you can find it here.

What excites me the most is that we have this splendid opportunity to go "all in". For me, this is "make it or break it" territory. We have this incredible chance to really see what God can do with us being single-minded and focused.

We've got some funding (for a little while). We've got some passionate people gathered around us. We've been itching for the chance to get to this point for a long time now - not to say that there weren't good reasons for waiting until this point. There have been a number of timing challenges that taught me patience and trust in God since we've landed here in Haverhill. That being said, this change will bring about significant changes in the way of life that Ben and I will be living - changes that, all in all, will be good for us and good for The Vine.

So this bumps up the house hunt (we really don't want to be doing incarnational ministry underneath a bridge). It also adds a few things to our plate about how we transition well and set Good Shepherd up for success with whomever their new pastor will be. We're also undergoing a shift in structure with The Vine as we focus more on creating micro-missional communities that reach out into specific neighborhoods or population groups. There's enough work on our plate for a year that will be crammed into less than six months. Add to the mix the mission trip to Guatemala, and yeah...I'll be lucky if I'm not carted away on a stretcher come the end of June.

It's all good though. That's the wonderful thing.

Remind me of that when in a couple months I start panicking.

Office Hours

One thing that I have been very bad at that many of my colleagues in ministry do on a regular basis is: have office hours - times when they are available specifically for conversation and counseling and the like. These office hours take place in a variety of settings - some at a church office, some in coffee shops or bookstores, others in parks or street corners (certainly when it is warmer out!). 

So today I decided that instead of working out of the house, as is my usual pattern, I would work at Wicked Big Cafe downtown. I was meeting someone there for coffee later in the afternoon before going to volunteer at Emmaus later in the evening. Yay me for getting out of the house! I posted a quick update on Facebook to invite people to drop by if they wanted to chat or hang out. 

I want to do this more regularly. It's good to get out, to get regrounded in the community, to smell the fresh coffee and watch the people walk in and out and absorb the atmosphere of a place. It's been far too long since I've made this a regular part of my routine. It's important for those of us who love the places we live and for those of us seeking to make God's dream real for a place to be out in it on a regular basis -- at different times and places, encountering the people whose stories make up the narrative of the place. 

I guess in a sense, I have office hours all the time -- when I'm out walking the dog, when I'm sitting in the cafe with a good book or a good friend, when I'm behind the counter at Mitch's place serving the evening meal. Every conversation is an opportunity for encounter and transformation -- not just for the other person, but for me as well.

Just some quick Wednesday afternoon thoughts for you all.  I'm late for Emmaus. Catch you later!

Being in Mission

I'm getting ready to go on a mission trip this Spring - the first international mission trip I have ever been on. I'll be going with a group from my denomination to Guatemala to help an organization called Project Salud Y Paz. Salud y Paz operates health and dental clinics that primarily serve the Mayan population in Guatemala - a population that is extremely impoverished.

Grace, a woman connected with The Vine, will be coming too.

There's lots to do to get ready - update my passport, get vaccinations (no fun!), and we have some reading to do. I'm tackling A Theology of Liberation by Gustavo Gutierrez.

So - look forward to me writing some thoughts about the book, and when I'm there, writing about my experience in Guatemala!

If you want to help get me (and Grace!) there - you can do so here.

Last Day of Vacation

I always end vacation with this vow to do more of "x" or less of "y". This time, I'm trying to resist the urge (with the exception of blogging a bit more frequently...and maybe getting to the gym more often).

I find vacation generally helpful for starting new routines or for strengthening already established practices. I know there are things that I'm pretty terrible at (time management and the inability to say "no" being two of the top ones), but coming back from vacation always seems like a wonderful opportunity to press the reset button - to take back control of my schedule, to plan ahead, to work and live at a sustainable pace of life.

But I also think it's important to be able to show grace to yourself, because a lot of times what creates the angst is the "shoulds" -- I should be eating better, I should be praying more, I should be wasting less time, etc - and all you end up doing is putting pressure on yourself for a goal that you yourself set in the first place.

My hope as I enter back into "reality" is this: that I accept each day as a gift and let go of the need to have some sort of ideal schedule or pace, but rather that I learn to follow the rhythm that each day brings...knowing that within each day there is a time to rest and a time to work and a time to play.

Blog Overhaul. Again.

Every year I get this same itch: to start writing again and put my thoughts out there on a regular basis. Problem is, I never seem to carve out the space to do it unless I'm on vacation, and I never seem to know quite what to write about. Should I focus more on the ins and outs of planting a new community? Should I talk more about the day-to-day living stuff? Should I pick a theme like cooking or knitting and make myself accountable to you all, dear readers, for actually completing the various craft projects I set out to do? Post a picture of something interesting every day? So many choices.

For the longest time, the tag-line of this blog has been "theological musings, random observations, and everything in-between."  That pretty much covers most of what my journey has been about in going on to perfection (in the good Wesleyan sense!). Maybe here is the space to help best make sense of the day to day stuff in light of the bigger picture stuff - life and God and creation and all that jazz.

So here's to another creative outlet (like I really need one). I promise I'll be better about regular updates!

Ordination Thoughts

I am here once more at the ordination service of the New England Annual Conference.  Eight years ago at a service much like this one, I reconciled myself to God's call into pastoral ministry.  It wasn't the first time I had felt such a call.  It wouldn't be the last.

I find it hard to believe that it has been eight years since I came alive to the journey that God was drawing me into - a journey that God had been preparing me for even before I was aware of it and a journey that continues to take surprising twists and turns.  At the time, I heard it as a call to pastor a local church in ordination.  I had no idea that eight years later, I would find myself in Haverhill, planting a new church.  I had no idea that I would have a wonderful partner in ministry and in life by my side.  I had no idea about the amazing mountain top experiences and the darkest valleys that I would walk through.  I had no idea the ways God would call me to sacrifice and to pour myself out for others.

It's been an amazing journey as a licensed local pastor.  Lately, though, I've been reflecting on whether or not God is calling me to take that next step.  I've wrestled with that thought on and off for the past few months, and inevitably annual conference, and the ordination service in particular, brings up a whole host of thoughts and feelings that beg me to say "yes!  You really want to do this!"

There's the half of me that cares very much - cares about the United Methodist Church, cares about the issues facing our denomination, cares about being a part of that church as an ordained elder.  And then there's the other half of me that cares about ministering in my context  - something that doesn't require any additional credentialing, that cares about the local witness of my faith community, and worries about the implications of submitting myself to a broken system and placing myself as available for itinerant ministry when I feel my call is one to rootedness in the community of Haverhill, MA.

I haven't thought about how to reconcile these two halves yet.  I don't know how ordination fits in, if it does at all.  But it's in times like these that for some reason I remember that God's got the final say in all of this...and that maybe God's say lies in submitting myself as a servant of Jesus Christ through the United Methodist Church as an ordained elder.

9/11 Reflections

I was invited to speak at Haverhill's 9/11 Service of Remembrance that was held at noon on the steps of city hall. It was my first city function, so I agonized for a bit as to what I was going to say that would be meaningful and invite people into deeper reflection. I decided that in the end, my experience and thoughts would have to suffice (but isn't that what each of us has to offer anyway? So often we think we have nothing to say, but we all have a story and experiences to share). I decided to end with a poem written by a colleague (you can find it and many other reflections of his at Unfolding Light), because I thought it did an excellent job at sharing the hope and beauty that can arise out of our broken world.

I hope you enjoy my thoughts - and would love to hear your own.

I find it difficult to put into words the breadth and depth of human emotions experienced 10 years ago as we saw the towers fall, and watched the endless news reports stream from radios and televisions, and heard story after story of valiant rescues and human loss. On that day - and in the days to follow - we saw the best of humankind as neighbor reached out hand to neighbor and as people rallied around those who had lost loved ones in the tragedy. But we also saw the worst of humankind - the fear that gave way to hate, the violence and revenge that took hold of hearts, and the clambering need for retaliation.

10 years ago, I was a college freshman in the midst of the second week of classes. I had just arrived at the dining to eat breakfast when I saw people gathered around the television set that was mounted to the ceiling. I didn’t have a chance to ask anyone what was going on before I saw the second tower get hit. It was a surreal moment as we watched - feeling at once how distant and remote we all were from these events, being in central Maine...and yet how close we were as we struggled to make sense and meaning out of what had happened.

That evening, many of us on campus gathered together to share anger, pain, and grief. We gathered with questions - how do we make meaning out of what happened? What does this mean for how we live our lives - what does this mean for how we treat one another - especially those who are different than us? Why did something like this happen to us?

As I sat and listened to the dialogue around me, I experienced our common humanity. I saw all the peoples and cultures and faiths represented in that room, and realized in a very powerful way that we are all brothers and sisters. And as students began to express their emotions - the hurt and the grief and the anger - I learned what it meant to share in a way that did not resort to violence, and to listen to one another across differences. And I learned that all of us have a story to share - no matter who we are...no matter who we come from...no matter what faith we profess.

9/11 shook the foundations of our communities, of our nation, and of our world. I believe in many ways, we all still struggle with what that day meant for us - and we struggle with how the world is dramatically different now than it was 10 years ago. But I also believe that through the doubt, and the fear, and the darkness - through the wars and loss of life and grief - that we always have the hope for peace, the hope for forgiveness and humility, the hope that this broken, fragile world can be made new and whole...and the hope that we have the opportunity to participate in the creation of that wholeness.

I’d like to end by sharing with you a poem entitled “What the Silence Says,” written by Steve Garnaas-Holmes, a colleague of mine at St. Matthew's United Methodist Church in Acton, Massachusetts.

When the towers of what you know collapse,
what do you know?
Beside the great abyss that has swallowed
what you cherished,
where do you stand?
Before the darkness of war
closed the eyes of your heart,
what did you see?
What does the vast, swirling silence say?

That those who cause pain and those who receive it
fall into the same grave.
That lost in the wreckage every time is
the only God worth having.
That we have seen days dark enough
for resurrection.
That wisdom is born of vulnerability.
That evil is not a monstrous power
but a sinuous thread,
the will to disregard
in service of our fear.
That there is in all of us a great hole,
under a pall of smoke and sorrow,
in which we meet each other
and know each other deeply.

That not victory, but tenderness
will save the world.
That before the dust falls upon us,
we who ourselves are dust will have chosen
to be people of might or people of grace,
one or the other;
and that it is in choosing that we are human,
and in choosing well that we are blessed.
That we are not worthy of our self-confidence
and yet God, still weeping,
resolutely trusts us
with her most fragile hopes.
That our flesh is sackcloth.
That we who are covered with the ash
of our failure, our fear of ourselves,
are yet beautiful,
that we who are certainly lost
can point the way.

It is my hope that we - still covered in ashes as we remember, can point the way to a brighter future - filled with hope, filled with grace...and filled with peace.

Here we go again...

I am contemplating, again, returning to blogging. Whether this means a return to this blog in particular, or the creation of a new one, I have not yet decided. There are certain advantages to starting over and fresh starts, but it's also a good discipline to continue what has already been started.

I am hoping that this sorely-needed vacation that I am on (until next week!) will help set some healthier patterns that will allow me to use this space more productively for reflection, to share current knitting projects, cooking adventures, and thoughts about life in general. Or....just what I'm up to, even if it's not particularly deep.

Exhausted

My grandmother passed away late last week. It all happened rather suddenly; she had gone into the hospital with vomiting because her stomach wasn't digesting food very well - the next thing we knew she was under sedation and unresponsive after some complications with a few procedures. I was able to drive down to Ohio with my husband and my mom to be with my dad and uncle to say our goodbyes, which was a blessing. But it totally wasn't something I expected to be dealing with...not that death ever is something you really expect, but in some cases the writing is on the wall well before the actual event. With Nammie, it wasn't like that.

I just got back from almost a week in Ohio and I am drained - physically and emotionally. Just so very tired. It was a good trip in light of everything though. It was neat starting to go through the house and see everything she kept. My favorite discovery (besides her cache of cross stitch) was a batch of letters that my mom had written to her when my siblings and I were small and when long distance phone calls were more expensive. My mom wrote about the different things we were up to as young children and it was pretty cool to read a few of them. And of course, photos of all us grandchildren were everywhere. My cousin did a fabulous job with the photo collage and I loved seeing the pictures of her throughout the years.

It's sad, but I'll see her again someday...

Make it so...

I feel the need to pause and restart this thing again (again and again) and hopefully sustain the momentum of regular posting. As much as I hate to say it, seminary killed this blog, and recovering from seminary has kept it in the grave. Right now, I don't feel like I have much to offer in the way of insights because I'm too much on the move to stop and think. I want that to change. I dream of a slower pace of life where I can take stock of my surroundings, chronicle a story or two, and continue to live the adventure God has me on right now.

So I've been yearning for reflection for awhile now. Maybe it's time to move there once again. Maybe I've got to keep my eyes open for opportunities - to look for those places of connection, of God showing up, and of me being aware enough to catch it happening. After all, that's who I want to be, in the end.

To start, I will give a general life update. I'm coming up on my third anniversary of being married next month. Soon, I will no longer be in my "mid-twenties." I am still living in this grand experiment called intentional community and loving it - even after a year (I have a sneaking suspicion that we are now out of the honeymoon phase though). The Vine - this experiment of church - is continuing to grow...despite all of us, really. Because honestly - we don't have a clue, and as soon as we think we do, God shows us otherwise. Good Shepherd is Good Shepherd and is growing in its own right.

I keep up with my flute music when I can, and knitting has taken over my spare time when I'm in a space to enjoy it. I've planted a garden this year and it's growing - again, despite me - and the vegetables are delicious. Watermelons are the next experiment. Perhaps too late to plant them, but we'll see.

Vacation starts in mid-August, incidentally on my wedding anniversary. We have two and a half blessed weeks off. To get there...well, the road is busy. I'm doing a middle school camp for a week in August, and getting everything in order for our fall push at GSUMC. Lots. To. Do.

That's the thumbnail sketch. Perhaps if all three of you who continue to read this thing post a comment or two (or harass me enough), I'll post again soon. :-)

Knitting...

I never realized how much of an addiction knitting could become. Ever since I've decided to take these skills more seriously back in December, I haven't been able to get enough. Ravelry has made it worse, admittedly, as there are thousands of patterns, hundreds of yarns, and way too many projects that I want to get started on.

Currently, I'm working on knitting a laptop case for my new netbook using this pattern, and a pullover based on this one. Of course, there are about three or four other projects that I have cast on that are on the back burner.

But the thing I've discovered that I love to make most are....socks! Below are some socks I've made for my husband....I love sock yarn!

Resurrection Time

I've neglected this thing for far too long. I tend to forget that blogging really is a spiritual exercise for me and so I am resurrecting this blog after a five-month hiatus. All two of you who regularly check this thing will be glad of a little extra reading material. :-)

I've been thinking a bit about mission lately - not just because it's what I eat, sleep, and breathe these days, but because it was the focus of my district's recent Bishop's Day and because of the upcoming Change the World weekend sponsored by my denomination.

I've decided I don't like the phrase "reaching out into our communities." It implies that there is a central location that we are reaching out into (namely, the four walls of a church building). It implies that there are people who are "in here" and "out there" and the only reason we "in here" are reaching "out there" is to bring those "out there" "in here." It implies that the church really isn't that connected to the community if we have to designate a special time that is set apart to do our good deed for the week.

Now, I know that these things aren't intended, and that there are many, many churches out there who use this language because it does help them engage with their communities more fully and that's great. But for me, the language still falls short of really communicating what we as the hands and feet of Christ in this world are supposed to do and be for our neighbors.

As is usually the case, I was musing about this in the shower. I was thinking of the ways different people in the room during the bishop's day were suggesting they interact with places like the library or the police station or neighborhood parks...lifting up activities like reading weekly to children or throwing a spontaneous block party -- all fantastic ways to engage with your local community. And I thought...these activities aren't really about "reaching out" but about "living in" - living more fully in your community.

I believe that part of what it means to follow Jesus, is to live more fully in your community, acting as a follower of Jesus would act. It means finding ways to bless others while you do the activities that would normally interest you. You don't need a special outreach to read to kids in the neighborhood, and you don't need a special outreach to pick up trash or to give clothes to a person in need. All you need are the eyes to see what's going on around you - ways that God is already working in your community to bring about life and joy...and jump on in to be a part of it. It doesn't take a church committee to authorize people to go out anywhere...all it takes is people willing to make a deeper commitment to God to live in their community as Jesus would want them to live.

So I propose a language change - how can you live in your community more fully?

Still alive....

I am alive. That seems to be a theme in my most recent postings (oh, wait...what recent postings?) I've decided I need to get back into this discipline because, well, I miss it and it helps keep me focused and reflective. I've been far too reactionary lately because I've been sick, tired, and far too busy to even breathe...which is probably why I'm sick and on my 2nd cold in a month. Smart.

The Vine is good, Good Shepherd is good, living in community is good, the husband is good, I am...in a funk. To which, my husband responds, in the vein of "when life gives you lemons...": when you're in a funk, get funky.

Prayer Campaign Begins Today!

Day 1 of the UMC Young Clergy campaign to pray for the United Methodist Church begins today. You can follow these 40 days of prayer on the prayer blog (http://umcyoungclergy.com/prayer) and find the first prayer posted here.

What encourages me the most about this effort is its focus on renewal through prayer. Oftentimes, we think that new strategies or new models of church is going to be what grows us or saves us from this decline we find ourselves in. Really, we need to be about reengaging with what the Holy Spirit is already doing in our midst and in our world, and get on board with that. Such sensitivity to God's movement only comes through prayer - confessing where we've fallen short, asking for the grace to move forward, and seeing what emerges out of the mix.

I have great hopes for my denomination, even though some days I get bogged down with my frustration with it. It hurts to see how our apathy doesn't just affect us, but all the broken, hurting people who need a word of hope -- who need the love of Jesus and life transformation.

But I think we'll get there...and prayer is just the start.

Praying for the United Methodist Church

Social media is an incredible thing. Through the UMC Young Clergy's twitter feed, I came to know about this prayer campaign idea a few people had about the United Methodist Church. It's simple really - we talk a lot about renewal in our denomination, but why not pray! This 40 day campaign, starting on May 18th, is a concerted effort on the part of young clergy throughout our denomination to pray for the United Methodist Church and its renewal. To learn more, check out the blog at http://umcyoungclergy.com/prayer!

Resurrection

No, this is not an early Easter reflection, this is more a statement (yet again) about the renewed sense of intentionality with which I want to write in this blog. I've fallen short time and time again!

In any case, I'm going to carve out some time to write each day and hold myself to posting at least twice per week. I've got some great fodder for a couple posts; Matt, Farrah, Ben, and I just got back from a road trip to visiting Westwinds in Jackson, MI and Hot Metal Bridge in Pittsburgh, PA. Both are doing some fantastic and creative ministry in their settings and in their contexts, but I will write more later (I promise).

But for now, a quick poll. Should I choose to revamp this blog or should I create a new one?

I'm not dead yet....

Wow. I went to post on another blog and I did a double-take when I saw the "Jan 5" as my latest post date for this blog. Sad. Well, I have not died, I've just been busy with school, church, new ministry plant - you know, the usual. Lent makes things that much more insane for us pastor-types too, and we're doing double duty with a Lenten Bible Study and a New Membership class. We're *real* smart.

Anyhow, just a shout out so y'all know I'm around...