There will always be enough

Lately a concern seems to stick near the top of my mind and heart but I was unable to voice it until now.  I am getting ready to do hospital chaplaincy (CPE) and then will go straight into internship.  This means my time at home, caring for the house and family will be shifting on a cosmic scale.  Not only will we need to learn new ways of keeping up with chores, but meals as well.  But that is not what I mean when I ask myself, "How do I feed my family during my training days as a Pastor and the days ahead?"
My concern for sufficient time to spend with my children as they go through some scary transitions and days (hello, high school and college can be scary, right?) is a priority and I wonder, how will I find enough time to feed the hearts and souls of my children with that nurturing love and place of comfort?
My answer came this past week as I was making blueberry scones for the cohorts attending intensives.  I explained that I could cut them smaller because no matter how small I cut them, they tend to end up rising up to the same size each time I bake them. One of my fellow cohorts looked at me and said, "see, there is always 'enough' in the body of Christ".  The 'ah-ha' nearly jumped out of my throat!
When we put the right ingredients in, the recipe will provide the volume necessary to feed all who are hungry.  If I can find those magic moments that my children and husband really seem to connect, I can begin to hedge those moments in and protect them against the natural tendency to get too busy.
So, I want to encourage you to use quality ingredients in your recipe of life, don't substitute- do the real thing and invest in your family.  Time is too brief and tomorrow will already be here.

an update after the year of silence

This past year has been overfull.  So overfull that my poor heart and mind just needed to be 'in' it.  Sometimes that overfulness looked like an empty calendar and time spent with just my family.  It was wonderful and scary and full of noise and laughter and tears and sighs of contentment.

But you might ask, what does that look like for my coursework?

 I realize I have left many a post unwritten or unpublished.  Often I think it is too mundane and surely you may not wish to read it.  Then I remember, I don't have a lot of followers, so who am I kidding? lol.... so here goes.

I am in cohort 5 at Luther Seminary and this past summer we added cohort 8.  Yes indeed.  Time has flown.  On average my program should last about 5.5 years- so if you do the math, I am 2 years from graduating and ordination (God willing).

I have really lived into my studies and found a profound and thriving community to share my life with in my cohort and the greater 'cohort of cohorts' in the DL program.

I have also found ways to begin weaning the other activities of my life out, to make room for working full time again and living into full time ministry in a whole new way.

I have gone through yet another loss of Candidacy Advisor at the seminary- my adored Dr. Walter Sundberg has retired.  I await my new one eagerly!

I am FINALLY slotted for CPE.  That is hospital chaplaincy and it will be done at Los Angeles County Hospital and University of Southern California (LAC/USC for short).  I really look forward to it. If you are curious about who I will be ministering to- google  LAC/USC- you will be amazed!

So I sit with 7 classes left, internship and CPE.

The next step for ordination, which is separate from graduation, is endorsement.  I hope to have that in June of 2015 and begin internship in September.

No inspirational post here, no nitty gritty details, but an update long overdue.  

The kind of sacrifice you cannot see... and M.E. (a duplicate from my 'other' blog for the heck of it).

In her books, Madeleine L'Engle often speaks of that which we cannot see with the naked eye.  Things that are amazing to behold and stunning in their purpose and presence.  We take them for granted and forget how they impact our lives.

When speaking of faith, someone once said that they do not understand or 'see' gravity, but they sure know it exists when they fall and hit the ground.  I think that in relationships, we do not take sacrifice seriously because we don't see it.  We are doubting Thomas in our daily lives with our mates, children, parents, and even neighbors.

In sociology courses, students learn about the ideas of me-centered society and other-centered society.  One places the emphasis on the individual, the other on the individual's constant and relevant part of the greater whole.   For those who are not sure, the United States and most western culture is me-centered.

I hear people leave a job because they deserve better (really? Because there are a lot of people out there who do not even have a job, let alone one that meets their desire to be treated well).  I hear of marriages ending because "I deserve to be happy, don't I?" or "I deserve a better mate."  Really?  Don't they deserve a mate who will stand by them no matter what?  Funny how that works, I want that for me, I expect MY mate to stay by me as long as I want them and need them, but if they are not fulfilling my needs I "get" to be selfish?  We don't see in that moment that we are the less than ideal mate, not them. 

In a story I read this week,  a woman said to a man, "I deserve more than just one step, I deserve someone who will meet me half way."  I get the idea here, she had been in abusive relationships up to that point.  But the fact is, relationships are never 50-50.  They are always about one person giving more than the other at any given time.  When my hubby is rubbing my feet, there is no 50-50 about it- it is 100-0.  He is giving and I am simply laying there like a fatted calf... him 100, me ZERO.  When I am making dinner and he is chilling out by skimming the pool (something he will fight you over to get to do) it is also not 50-50.  It is more like 75-25.  He is doing something that needs to be done, but not really, that is why we have a pool guy.  I am doing something that MUST be done or we will lose our generous proportions.  See?  not 50-50.

As Matthew points out, "whoever does not take up the cross and follow me is not worthy of me."  I am going to get really real here folks.  Be ready to not like this... so here goes:

If you think that you are going to grow as a Christian and become more Christ-like without giving more than a little- or less than 100%, then you are wrong.  This is not about salvation, this is about those of us who say we are Christian's and then don't live it.  You are NOT bearing fruit.  You are NOT growing.   You are sitting by the side of the road whining about the splinters of the cross and that they are going to get infected.  Get up.  Shut up.  Pick UP the cross and walk.  It is not easy. It is not fun.  It is not all happy, skippy, joy, joy.  It is about sacrifice.  It is about honoring the relationship. And when you think you are the only one sacrificing in it- just remember, you didn't get scourged or die a horrific death on a cross for something you did not do.  His sacrifice is invisible today- but that does not mean it was not 100% or does not exist. 

Now, as they say in the Army... kwitcher bi*%^$n, pull up yur big girl panties, suck it up and DRIVE on.  I believe in you- you are not alone and you are worth the work. Go give.  

Two Years Down

I can hardly believe I am writing this.  It really does feel like yesterday that I was freaked out about learning Koine Greek.  Now I not only have that under my belt but Hebrew too.  I am finally starting to feel like a seminarian and I am half way through. 

We welcomed in the newest cohort of students to Luther Seminary this past month.  CH7 (cohort 7) stands to be the largest ever at Luther in the Distance Learning program and those of us who are ahead of them are thrilled to see the progress the program is making.  We are honored to be part of the 'sorting out the kinks'.

But that means we have kinks.  Yup.   They come and go, some big, some small. 

Right now, I am struggling to find a CPE (clinical pastoral education) placement in Los Angeles.  For such a large city, there is a dearth of programs that are seasonal.  Many are suffereing losses of supervisors so they can only offer summer or year long placements. 

For me, I thought applying to my closest one would be a done deal.   The problem is that no one told us how hard it would be to get into a site.  They said to apply early because it takes time to get placed, but they did not explain that it would be because of a shortage of positions, rather, we all thought it just meant it took time to place us literally.  They also didn't explain that some sites are very desirable.  That means they become the 'ivy league' of CPE sites and people try to get into them from all over the country.  There is no exception for those who are local- just a free for all application process that leaves the winners on top.  In other places, they just put you in order you applied, so if there are 5 slots and there have been 10 applicants the last year, they put you in at number 11.  It can be slow going.  And frustrating. 

As a Lutheran, we are required to go through a step called Endorsement before we can do our internship year.  It is a process that involves professors, candidacy committee, and student essay/interview.  At the end, the hoped for result is the ELCA saying, "yup.  They look like they will become a pastor with us.  Keep going and lets see what internship does."

Some synods (think of them as large state like areas around the country) require CPE before Endorsement.  Some will do it after as long as it happens, others can make exceptions, do the endorsement pending completion of CPE, etc.  Mine requires it beforehand.  Now that might not seem like a big deal, except that it can take up to a year to place a person in their internship slot after endorsement. So a delay now means a delay then...etc. 

So here I sit, lots of great classes for this fall, but no slot for CPE.  That is okay though.  I know God has this, I just wish once in a while I knew some inkling of the direction God is planning.  Life of a seminarian. 

Called to feed

I wish that you could be in my head today as I read for class.....

There is this thing I do, I cannot help myself.

 When I do not do it, it is all I crave.  It consumes me in a passionate and unforgiving way and calls to me constantly, much like the call to follow Christ consumed Martin Luther and fed his desperate need to share Christ with the people in a way that was more intimate and on their level.

When I answer to this innate need, I feel at rest, sated for now, and able to function in some manner of peace.  You see, I cannot help myself. I will admit it... I feed people. 

There is more to feeding someone than buying food and putting it on the table.  It is about creation of food that nourishes and comforts.  It is about love in every knead and every stir.  About compassion in every chop and every flip. It is about community in every table setting where we gather around this food that will fill us, but where our souls are filled by the community simultaneaously. 

I could not reach a dear friend as this all came bursting from my head this morning- so I texted- and you know me- short and sweet is not my strong point.  But here, in this moment, forced to keep it that way, I came up with an equation that opened my eyes and pierced my heart.

Eucharist=famine relief.... our troops and thier families are starving=suicide. 

It is in your face. I can acknowledge that.  It is painful and it is blunt to the point of rude.  But it is also so true that it makes my body ache in sorrow and awareness. 

----
When I am at Luther Seminary with my cohort for intensives every January and June, I miss my family.  I miss my bed and my home and all the things I find common comfort in. So I cook.  I cook a lot.  But what I found was not just the cooking fed me.  It made me miss my family less to cook a big tray of blueberry scones... but it also did something I did not expect in the least.

 It thrilled my heart to tears when that tray of scones disappeared in grateful, tired, study worn hands of students running off to class with only coffee to fill them... until they saw the scones.   That simple little scone warmed thier chilled fingers as they rushed out into the bitter cold and then filled their stomachs, nourishing them enough to think a little until lunch time. 

All the more so, when I spent a day cooking red sauce for a communal spaghetti dinner to welcome the new cohort, I hummed and danced and twirled and cried and prayed.  But what THEY did as a community was the amazing part worthy of dancing over.  They gathered as one- over 30 people- as ONE community and broke bread and slurped pasta.  They left the new cohort with smiles and small tears of joy and welcome.  They brought them into a cohort of welcoming arms and fed the hole in them that housed fear, home-sickness,  nervousness and the unknown of this new journey they were on. 

You see, they created a home for them.  A community, a table, a family.  But it was done through food as a community that fed both body and spirit.  As we fight suicide together, we must remember that there is a hole in the spirit of those struggling with suicide.  That hole needs fed and filled with community and love and trust and faith, not shame, silence, or fear.   Gordon Lathrop writes in his book, The Pastor,
"Finally, the great table service of Christ to the world is the corss.  There, by holy mercy, he is the server and the food, the very fruit from the tree of life for faith to receive and eat and live and also the very famine relief of God served up to all the needy world." (p65)

Patch Adams wrote in his book House Calls a poem from Pablo Neruda that goes like this:

 

If I die, survive me with such sheer force
that you waken the furies of the pallid and the cold,
from south to south, lift your indelible eyes,
from sun to sun dream through your singing mouth.
 

I don't want your laughter or your steps to waver.
 

I don't want my heritage of joy to die.
 

Don't call up my person. I am absent.
 

Live in my absence as if in a house.
 

Absence is a house so fast
that inside you will pass through its walls
and hang pictures on the air.
 

Absence is a house so transparent
that I, lifeless, will see you, living,
and if you suffer, my love, I will die again.

Let us not live in a house that is silent from fear of suicide, nor echoing with silence through loss from suicide.  Let us FILL the house with community, with love, with compassion and the connection that is what keeps us whole.  Lets FEED the famine of humanity- body AND soul. 

Blueberry scones to chase the blues away

Used to the constant movement required to keep a household for a family of six moving smoothly, I found myself still.  Too still.  Not in a good way.  I enjoyed having the time to devote to God and study, but I began experiencing what I now believe to be a bit of homesickness.  Having never been away from my whole family for more than 8 days, the 18 I was gone seemed an eternity and was only bearable by the amazing friendships I was forming and spiritual growth and awareness I was immersed in.
So I found myself suddenly needing to express to this cohort of mine just what they were beginning to mean to me- and to work through how very much I missed the arms of my children and husband.  For me that was answered in one way: cook for them.  Feed my sheep, right?  So was feeding them, literally.  Our first Saturday I made them breakfast.  With many helping hands, we took over the kitchen on the second floor of Stub Hall and made Dutch Eggs with fresh fruit and homemade syrup, biscuits and sausage gravy, and blueberry scones.  While any hot meal would have been received well in my opinion, the scones took the grand prize- and they weren't even as good as I make at home.  Still, they fed something in each person there and they granted me a gentle and less weepy way of saying to my cohort, I care for you, thank you for being with me, thank you for accepting me, thank you for being who you are and loving me just as I am too.  Blueberry scones chased the blues away and gave me a great way to say Thank You.   Here is a pic from my home, of the scones and the recipe to follow.  Enjoy!

Blueberry Scones
Ingredients:
8 tbsp. (1 stick) unsalted butter, frozen whole
1½ cups (7½ oz.) fresh blueberries
½ cup whole milk
½ cup sour cream
2 cups (10 oz.) all-purpose flour, plus more for dusting the work surface
½ cup sugar, plus extra for sprinkling
2 tsp. baking powder
¼ tsp. baking soda
½ tsp. salt
1 tsp. finely grated lemon zest
2 tbsp. unsalted butter, melted
Directions:
Adjust an oven rack to middle position and preheat to 425˚ F.  Grate the frozen butter on the holes of a large box grater.   Place the blueberries in the freezer until needed.
Whisk together the milk and sour cream in a medium bowl; refrigerate until needed.  Combine the flour, ½ cup sugar, baking powder, baking soda, salt and lemon zest in a medium mixing bowl.  Whisk to combine.  Add the grated butter to the flour mixture and toss with fingers until thoroughly coated.
Add the milk mixture to the dry ingredients and fold with a spatula just until combined.  Transfer the dough to a generously floured work surface.  Dust the top of the dough with flour, and knead with well floured hands, 6-8 times, just until the dough holds together in a ragged ball.  Add small amounts of flour as needed to prevent sticking.
Roll the dough into a 12-inch square.  Fold the dough into thirds like a business letter (a dough scraper really helps with these steps).  Fold the short ends of the dough into the center in thirds, to form an approximate 4-inch square.  Transfer the dough to a plate lightly dusted with flour and chill in the freezer for 5 minutes.
Return the dough to the floured work surface and roll into an approximately 12-inch square again.  Sprinkle the blueberries evenly over the surface of the dough, and gently press down so that they are slightly embedded in the dough surface.  Using a dough scraper, roll the dough up to form a tight log.  Lay the log seam side down and press the the log into a 12 by 4-inch rectangle.  Using a sharp, floured knife, cut the rectangle crosswise into 4 equal rectangles.  Cut each rectangle diagonally to form 2 triangles.  Transfer to a parchment lined baking sheet.
Brush the tops of the scones with melted butter and sprinkle lightly with sugar.   Bake until the tops and bottoms are golden brown, 18-25 minutes.  Transfer to a wire rack and let cool at least 10 minutes before serving.
Source: adapted from Entertaining from Cook’s Illustrated, Spring 2009

Re-integration. Unnecessary if you didn't have a profound experience.

Reintegration:verb;  To make or be made into a whole again; to amalgamate or help amalgamate with an existing community.

Reintegration is unnecessary if you don't feel separated right?  But, if you have a profound experience in life, it can make you feel a bit 'out of touch' with your daily life for a while- and when you return to that life and have to live it day in and out, you experience the joys and struggles of reintegration.

Some argue that a Distributed/Distance Learning Model (DL) program cannot possibly create community, a sense of belonging, a deep and spiritual experience.  No way.  Just not possible- especially in 2 weeks at a time in person on campus.  Let me tell you I am going to SHATTER that belief.

Reintegration is the word I see bandied about on facebook by my cohort- CH 5 of Luther Seminary's Master of Divinity Distributed Learning (DL) program.  Now I would ask you, if it was not possible for them to experience a deeply moving and spiritual January Intensives Program, why would that word be in constant use right now?  Why would there be tears upon bidding these new friends goodbye.  How deep could a friendship grow in 2 weeks, really?  Why would there be a need to continue to reach out?  Because the belief that a DL program cannot provide this is UNTRUE.  Period.  Allow me to explain.

There is a phenomenon noted by the mental and behavioral health sciences  and seen in military families.  It is the manner and speed with which they integrate into a new social circle upon arrival at a new assignment.  They do not know these folks, they do not have any special tools to help them.  The only thing noticeable to those observing this phenomenon is that it is persistently obvious among the military.  Read  more about this here.

A military child has a tendency to form lightening fast and gorge-deep friendships and bonds. They do this for many reasons.  First, they do not know how long they have there, but they know it is not long.  Second, they need a support system and cannot wait a year or two to form a normal-speed relationship or they will spend 1/2 to 1/3 of their lives without a geographically close support system.  They also do this out of shared experience that is life-changing.  Some could argue traumatic, at times, but life changing.  Ask any brat.  Ask the experts.  They will tell you there is definitely something amazing that happens and the friendships last lifetimes if given the opportunity to be maintained over the miles and years. 

How then does this apply to DL cohorts?  Are we traumatizing them with intensives?  Hardly.  Well... maybe a little- read my last blog post.  But all in all, we are putting them together in tight quarters with intense schedules and coursework that REQUIRES teamwork if they are to meet the assignment goals. It is not too far from the bonds created at camp- or better yet- Via de Cristo (Cursillo, Walk to Emmaus, etc) because GOD is a huge factor in it, along with shared faith.

 We are not speaking of regular college students here.  We are speaking to the few who have had their hearts moved to pursue Ministry as a lifetime commitment and JOB.  They come to this already having been through some very defining and refining moments in life.  They come from communities where they are not necessarily nested in faith. They may have a great home church and job, but they still live daily life away from campus, not surrounded by the swirl of residential seminary life.  Instead, they create, they build, they stoke, a hunger that is voracious for the 2 weeks they are there.  They literally gorge themselves on opportunity to attend chapel daily, shared devotions, shared meals with intense spiritual discussion and midnight sprints to complete homework due by 8 am.  They are sated only through the fact that they have no other distractions in this time.  They are able to focus wholeheartedly on what is in front of them, so they do- Intensely. 

Something magical happens.  They greet each other- strangers up to this point- with hugs!  They cry over  shared moments of awakening, discernment, sorrow, joy, and even finding coffee already made by someone else for them to share in.  It is called INTENSIVES for a reason-- they are feeling intensely, studying intensely, bonding intensely, missing family intensely, and seeking GOD intensely.  To doubt that this could not create community is to doubt that the Holy Spirit exists or that any of them are called.  That simple.

I wish I could share with you what happens- but I cannot yet.  This semester, I will team up with a fellow cohort to create a short video to give you a glimpse into our lives.  Stay tuned for it after June intensives.  In the meantime, set your doubt aside, and believe.  BELIEVE.  And pray- for us, to find a way to bring the most amazing 2 weeks of our lives into our  homes, communities, and home churches, so that you too will share in the intense joy. 

When acceptance becomes thankfulness

There is a difference you know, between acceptance and thankfulness.  I found the line of boundary today.  It left me in tears.  As sobs racked my body, and arms of fellow students covered me in care, as the voices raised in song to celebrate worship, I felt, believed, and KNEW the vast canyon of difference between the two.

I am no stranger to the Lord's Supper.  I love to serve communion, but I had only ever done it with the wine, never the bread.  Today I served the bread.  I broke off a portion and pressed it into open, seeking, hungry hands with pleading eyes poignantly and directly looking up into mine.

As thier eyes met mine, as I saw the desire and hunger to commune with our Lord, I was rocked.  Literally.  I started with using names when I could.  I have always thought that was so important- to really personalize the moment we commune with God, Jesus would have used our name too, right?  I got to the 3rd person whose name I knew and my throat began to lock up. Suddenly I realized that if I continued to personalize it this way I would burst into tears.  As I charged them with the bread and recognition of Christ's sacrifice, as I saw that they understood it- that I could SEE they were THERE in this moment, a rush of the Holy Spirit washed over me- almost pulling me under.  I could not breathe.  For a moment, I just stood- and took it in.  And then more hands were reaching out.

I have long ago accepted this call.  This past summer, I was even granted the opportunity to let any wistful sentiments of other professions go.  I am not only willing and accepting, but I do so with no reservations now.  This is what I am called to. Wonderful right?  Wouldn't we all hope that every pastor has come to that point?  Well I did.  And then I went past it- rushing, flooding, whirling and twirling past that safe place of acceptance.  Suddenly I found myself in a place where I was broken,  literally cracked open, vulnerable and very aware that I was.  In that moment, as I gasped for breath, a fullness resonated in me in a whole new way and I knew the name of this thing that had taken hold of me and flown away.   Thankfulness.  Yes, I found myself thankful to the point of tears that God has called me to this place, this time, this task. I am not just accepting, not just acquiescing.  Embracing this in a new way, and thankful.

Tortillas with oregano

The kitchen is not very well appointed, but amazingly they have a rolling pin.  Target has a cast iron skillet.  I can do this.
Beginning of week two into my intensives during January, I am missing my family and caring for them.  Not even realizing I am doing it, I pull out my classic coping mechanism.  Cooking.  I need to cook.  My cohort is missing home and family too.  Some to the point of tears, just like me. Others, we can just 'see' it.  And they need fed.  They need a mama, a way to feel they are being nurtured and protected.  So I cook.  Comfort food.  Today, it will be tortillas.  Warm, soft, light, flecked with oregano and slathered in butter, they are a mother's hug for me. And today, at the moment the cohort begin to trickle in and grab one for themselves, they are feeling hugged too- comforted.  In comforting them, I am filling the void.  I am feeding them, the way that God feeds us when we are hungry- hungry for love, food, passion, compassion, and encouragement. One cohort commented, we are literally breaking bread together.  Amen.

In my Dorm...

There is a place within my dorm....
 where hot water for tea is endless
fellowship can be found while folding bluejeans
where I can go for silence, or noise.

Within my dorm are people who:
are living breathing thesauri
will offer me a beer from thier special stash at 2 am to chill in the  silence together
offer me hugs when my OCD is raging
make my southern accent very obvious
stop by my door every time they pass
think I can find the answer to anything
can take me to Super Target for tangerines and tampons

On my campus there is a place:
where I can cry or laugh or scream... and it is all okay
where I can wander stacks of books that full of ancient wisdom
where a cross stands for over a thousand years of Lutheran heritage in Norway
where food means fellowship as well as sustenance

And in our chapel I can see the face of God....
as I serve the body of Christ to my cohort
Faces upturned bring tears to my eyes
where every voice is that of an angel
and sermons are awe inspiring. 

Finally the email of widsom came...

Anxious.  I suppose that is the most accurate word for how I felt each time I would open my seminary email inbox.  I was searching, hunting, holding my breath, waiting for that email that would impart some small sense of stability and wisdom that would help me make it through my first intensives.
And then it came- but it was not alone.  No, a gaggle came.  Ones about housing in the dorms and what to bring to make life more comfortable, ones about meals and where to go at 2 am when desperate for company, coffee or even a beer to relax  after hours of frantic studying.  Others were about the schedule, about rules generally unspoken but wise to follow, written through sage experience of those who have gone before us. 
They were mixed in with my reservation confirmation and links to local necessities.  But the peace I thought would come from this wave of wisdom was a wash.  Instead I am now wired.  A little afraid, mostly excited and utterly overwhelmed with scenarios running through my inexperienced brain. 
Those little emails have more in them than I care to acknowledge at the moment.  I have 6 or 7 books to read right now for classes in preparation and both syllabus are finally in my hand. I have meals to make for my family, lists of contacts to type up, household function lists to arrange, oh my.... my stomach churns and my tummy flips over the amount of preparation and  not a whit of it will really help me when I get there. 
I cannot take it back now though. I have the wsidom of the ages, well at least the last 4 cohorts, in my hot little hands (read: laptop) and I am now charged with making it happen.  May the grace of God bless my words, thoughts, actions and experience.  Here we go....

Can a Christian practice Yoga?

Lets break this question down to basics.  Can a Christian practice Yoga?  What is Yoga?  It is a bunch of poses that place the body in positions that biologically create hormone balance, inner heat, weight loss, muscle strength, muscle toning/lengthening, etc.  I could go on and on.  It also uses meditation.  There are plenty of people out there who can uses the poses without meditation- and do- that recieve the health benefits of less pain with arthritis, fewer sore muscles, better abdominals... again, I could go on and on. Scientifically, and even spiritually, we cannot argue that these poses are actually very good for our body and are a form of caring for the temple that Christ reminds us to care for.
But we all know that the full benefits of Yoga are found when it is fully practiced using a form of meditation as well.  Here is the part that gets sticky for many Christians.  Our faith dictates that we watch for and deny the subtle ways of giving credence to other Gods- which include ourselves. 
Lets look at meditation then.  When we meditate, we basically call out to the universe and try to figure out our place in it, acknowledge that we are in it, that we have a place and to center ourselves.  No?  I do not meditate but from what I understand, that is the gist of it.
And now, lets consider prayer.  Actually, I am going to quote a passage from one of my texts this semester that I think is very interesting and quite applicable.

What do I mean by prayer?  I mean the practice of relatedness.  

On one side, prayer is our capacity to enter into that vast community of life in which self and other, human and nonhuman, visible and invisible are intricately intertwined.  While my senses discriminate and my mind dissects, my prayer acknowledges and recreates the unity of life.  In prayer, I no longer set myself apart from others and the world, manipulating them to suit my needs.  Instead, I reach for relationship allow myself to feel the tuggings of mutuality and accountability, take my place in community by knowing the transcendent center that connects it all.  

On the other side, prayer means opening myself to the fact that as I reach for that connecting center, the center is reaching for me.  As I move toward the heart of reality, reality is moving toward my heart.  As I recollect the unity of life, life is recollecting me in my original wholeness.  In prayer, I not only address the love at the core of all things; I listen as that love addresses my, calling me out of isolation and self-centerdness into community and compassion.  In prayer, I being to realize that I not only know, but am known.... 

In prayer we allow ourselves to be known by love, to receive this freeing and redeeming knowledge of ourselves. .. The mind immersed in prayer no longer thinks in order to divide and conquer, to manipulate and control.  
                   -Parker J Palmer, To Know as We are Known, Education as a Spiritual Journey

If we consider what Palmer is sharing with us, his definition of prayer, we can see how meditation and prayer are very similar.  Take his words 'love' and 'life' and replace with God and you suddenly have a very obviously Christian statement. Just a side note, he is a Christian educator.  He wrote this book for other Christian educators- so some things are assumed in that context. 
If then, meditation and prayer are so similar, why can we not pray while doing yoga?  No matter the situation, we as followers of faith, can choose to allow and invite God into our every moments- even if they are traditionally used for someone else.  We took Easter and Christmas and added our father to those- in order to bring the pagans around us to Christ.  Can we not use Yoga and other practices such as zone therapy, which are scientifically (biologically and physically) proven to have very positive health benefits, all faith aside?  I argue we can.  Why would we turn away from yet another gift and way to reach out to God? 

I made it... (passing Greek)

They say it was not a winnowing tool.  They say it will help with our studies through seminary.  They say....they say.... but none of that was comforting as I was going through it.  I questioned my call to be there.  How was God going to use me if I could not learn biblical Greek? 

But I made it!   It was definitely the most difficult class I have ever taken.  Take any other language class and squish 2-3 semesters of it into 1.  That is what we just did.  I can now read and write Koine Greek- maybe not the best but I can wing it now. 

What interested me most was the mixed feelings about it as I was struggling to survive the semester.  All while wanting to do away with this cursed language (thoughts then) I was fascinated with the tools it was already giving me in my Bible study classes.  Odd how I cannot read the New Testament now and not wonder, is that really in the imperative? .... or some such question.  Suddenly the NT came alive for me in a whole new way.

I also learned that I still stink at grammar- no matter the language- and that I still rock vocabulary- no matter the language.  That vocabulary is what made it possible to pass this class.

If all my other undergrad classes had been this hard I would still be a sophomore! This was far worse to take this one class than taking a full schedule of grad level courses!  But I did it.  And I can only say it was through the grace of God- because I still don't understand how it suddenly began to sink in.  I am just grateful.

Some days are mustard seeds

Some days, my faith seems like Mount Everest, big, strong, reaching high and far and surely a daunting vision for many.  But most days are pretty average fields of grain.  I go through with the average scripture study, the prayers, the counsel, the little things that guide and teach my children and encourage my husband.  I don't doubt, I just walk.  One foot in front of the other and repeat.  Those days are the norm.  They are even the days that my life is chaos sometimes.
Once in a while though, a day is just a mustard seed.  Not much to look at, really easy to miss, but holding potential.  Promise.  If we just nurture it.  Today is one of those.  My love cannot sleep so neither can I.  We wonder and ponder at news and the why and how of things in this life.  Decisions of others.  But we have no control and must simply stand by while they set our lives in motion.  On those days, I wonder, God, where are you in all this.  Don't get me wrong, I know he is in it.  I don't doubt that for a moment.  But I wonder at what point he is stepping in and making his presence felt.  Or is he?  Sometimes his presence is a quiet one that lets man do what man will do and then he takes and turns it into his glory. Those days I feel so doubtful too- if I cannot control this, how on earth can I lead a congregation?  How can I handle watching others make the decisions and yet be the figurehead for it?   Can my faith be enough?  And then as I build a fire at 4:30 in the morning, I realize, watching the flames grow from tiny to enormous, a mustard seed is all it takes.  

Can we talk and fold laundry?

It would be so much easier if I could just follow my calling.  It sounds so wonderous and learned- going to seminary, learning Greek and Hebrew, Theology, etc.  In my mind at one point there was this idea that I would begin my days like Martin Luther, with at least an hour of prayer and then scripture would be my focus for the day.  I would lead my little family in learning and be the ideal helpmeet to my husband as he slaves away to make sure the bills are paid while I go to school. 
Not so. 

Instead, I find myself scrambling for the time to read my Bible each morning.  If I do not do it then, the likelihood exponentially decreases throughout the day.  I haven't picked up a Bible study all summer that really makes me dig deep.  And sadly, my intentional, scheduled, ideal prayer life has yet to come to fruition.  I find myself praying for the friend with breast cancer as I choose grapes or chicken at the market, or for the family who lost everything while I am folding my laundry.  This is hardly the dedicated time I wanted for me and God. 

Then I get reminded by my husband of Tevia from Fiddler on the Roof.  The man worked hard all day, his time for prayer was while he was working and it was a dedicated time for him and God.  That gets me to thinking, is it possible that my housework can be more than just me yapping at God and depleting the ever present laundry mound?  Is it possible that my time with God can be fruitful and dedicated even while I share it with physical activity that does not mirror the conversation?  I have no solid answer here, but my heart says yes.  I love to go 'do' with my husband.  I rarely want time where he and I just sit and talk to each other doing nothing else.  Not to say that isn't lovely too, but most of the time, we enjoy ourselves and our relationship more when we add an activity to it.  Hiking, yard work, baking, camping... you get the idea. 

My best phone calls with my gal pals are when we are busy cleaning the bathroom or kitchen and chatting on our bluetooth or headset.  We are more efficient somehow and amazingly, the conversations just flow and are rarely filled with fluff.  It is almost as though we are distracted enough to really be 'real' with each other and get to the nitty gritty.  I treasure those calls and while I may not be the best at carving out that dedicated time for God in this new season of life and schedules, I realize I have not left Him with nothing, but rather given Him a significant and valuable part of my day and life. 

DL misconceptions

Real Students... we are!

     If you have never been a distance/distributed learning student you may not grasp this thought at first. In fact, I barely did when the topic was broached. I was blessed with an undergrad program at a state college that was robust and solid. I never once doubted I was a real student- the work was entirely too hard and the interaction too constant to ever believe otherwise.

     

     Yet, one night, alone in Stub Hall at the entrance awaiting pizza delivery, a pastor and his wife who were staying there for a conference stopped to chat. He told me, in his parting words, “don't you think, for even a moment that you are not a real student.” It registered but I dismissed it as the pizza came in the door- food can do that.

    

     On my last day at Luther though, this topic came up again. As the staff at the cafeteria (truly awesome and super friendly!) were sharing 'see ya laters' with me they reminded me that even while I am away from them and campus, I AM a real Luther student. At that moment (funny how that one also happened around food...) it sank in and as I wandered to my table, I began to ponder this. What does this mean? Why is this a concern? Who feels this way? Those questions asked, I am now leaving this thought with you... and an amusing video from an earlier cohort.
http://youtu.be/Phcwu92hKJA

Its all Greek

Wondering how my classes are going?  Well... Greek is all I am taking right now.  Biblical Greek to be precise.  That is more than enough in my opinion. 
I am blessed that I learned enough of several languages to get myself into trouble in the matching countries, and enough of 2 others to get myself out of trouble too.  Therefore, I understand the conjugation of verbs.  I understand the definite articles of all nouns have a gender.  What is throwing me for a loop is that even adjectives, adverbs, nouns, etc are... well... sort of conjugated too, but they call it declination.  I call it torture.

Vocabulary of Greek is actually pretty easy and the family has been wonderful about using my flash cards to quiz me.  So, while I learn Greek, they are too.  Well, maybe just vocabulary?  What I do notice is the flashbacks of spelling bees and Latin in Middle School and those memories remind me of what my kids lives are like right now.  I will not look a gift horse in the mouth- any opportunity to bond with them or understand them is precious.

Back to Greek though. I may sound whiny.  I can admit it,  I am a bit.  English grammar is hard enough, then twist it into Greek and anyone would have nightmares.  Yet, I am actually enjoying the challenge.  I am learning from new texts (Septuagint) and getting to understand the depth of meaning in the original texts.  It really opens my eyes and my heart is being fed too.  Suddenly new doors are opening and I am more excited than ever to be in Seminary- even in the throws of sheer misery while seeking to grasp Greek grammar. 

What's next? 

What is this blog about anyway?

So you are wondering, and rightly so, why is she writing this?  What about it should appeal to me?  Why should I care?
I can answer the first, I can hazzard a guess at the second, and I cannot even begin to understand the third- it is entirely too personal.
Why?
Why not?  How many distance learning Master of Divinity students do you know that are willing to share the ins and outs, the ups and downs and the totally embarrassing and otherwise mundane moments of Seminary?
Yeah.  I thought so.  And since there is not a line around the block, guess who gets the job?

As for why it should appeal to you? Besides the fact that you probably don't have a long list of people who share this journey with you in writing,  you probably have little or small clues as to how this whole thing works anyway.  I know a lot of people are just now becoming familiar with online learning in the first place, so the question that comes up most often is how you train someone who needs serious 'connection' to develop fully during thier degree program while only doing it online?  It is my hope that you will see just how this works through my eyes, that you will see what a Lutheran does to become ordained (A Pastor) and the journey that gets us there.

FYI, I do take questions.  I promise if you have the courage to ask, I will have the courage to post the question along with my most honest answer.  Help me to educate you and others.  Help me to grow.  Help us to understand each other.

Finally, I write this because I love to write.  I love to share.  I love to learn, and I love to connect.  This is my way to allow some very special people (my candidacy committee at the Metropolitan New York ELCA Synod) as well as my supporting congregations (prayerful, financial, membership, etc) and my friends and family to really get a good look at the process.

So.  Buckle in.  I have about a dozen posts ready to go.  Keep watch and maybe consider subscribing to this page.

Joy in ALL Things,
Just Julie

First Week

Firsts. 

       When I hear that word, I think of the traditional ones; first tooth, first step, first day of school, first job, and in that mindset, I realize that the title "First Week "epitomizes the journey of  new student orientation at Luther Seminary. Those other firsts hold so much potential, mark the beginning of a special journey, one that is unique to each person who marks that first moment.First Week at Luther Seminary holds nothing less.

      For me, I mark the moment that I stepped out of my dorm at Stub Hall that first morning. It was sunny with a touch of haze and as I looked across to Northwestern Hall, I saw pastel chalk writing along the steps and sidewalk ending in eager faces awaiting my approach, much like an eager family member at the airport gate. As I walked up those steps it reminded me of the excitement I felt when walking down the aisle to greet the groom who would become my partner for life. Potential and Promise. My first day as a Graduate student and even more monumental, my first day of following a call from God in pursuing my Master of Divinity.

     First Week was filled with many firsts for me. My first moment at Luther Seminary Campus. My first discussion with a professor. My first raising of the hand to offer a question. My first worship with this new family. It also marked the first time I went sight seeing alone in my life which included a feather being woven into my hair(Minnesota State Fair!), my first meal shared with other students, and my first shared communion with the fellowship of students and leadership at Luther.  Each a new beginning, full of that word again: Potential.

      Sadly, it was also the first night that I lost several hours of sleep to a skateboarder grinding on the steps between Stub and Northwestern Halls at 3 am. And only the first of many days where my mind would be full to overflowing with information and I would wonder if my head might pop off. But there is one first that really stood out; that moment, as the first hymn was being played and we waited to sing, at our first worship together, I had the first moment that I knew, without a doubt, this is where I am supposed to be. So many firsts are filled with insecurity and a fear of the unknown ahead, and yet, this first, this moment of absolute surety, left me only filled with gratitude and joy.