So, for years, I've been vacillating about ministry. Not that I don't consider myself in ministry, because I do, though, truthfully, ministry seems suddenly a strange word. It's one used over and over, again, when you work for the church, used so much it ceases to have meaning.
I looked up the word--the root is Old English and means to serve. Interesting. It evidently also means agent, which can mean to cause change; and it means to effect a change. Of course, it also means being a cleric or, in the United Methodist system, being ordained.
Do I want to be an element of change, and do this by serving others? At heart, I'm a writer and as many a wit has declared, writing is a lonely profession. Writing has another distinction--you can hide in your characters or your interviews and you do not have to be an authority. I think that is hardly the case for someone ordained to ministry in the church.
Authority being the bugaboo of my existence: I don't feel like I am one, and I rarely appreciate following authority. I mostly just want to be able to do what I do, pretty much on my own, which makes writing a rather perfect avocation for me.
But somehow, I keep getting yanked back to the idea of ordained ministry. Even when I was a little girl in the Christian Science church, I would imagine myself up in the pulpit despite the fact that the Christian Science church does not ordain ministers, and those occupying the pulpit are called "readers." The minister in the church is Science and Health with Keys to the Scriptures.
Still, I felt the lack of a live, in-person minister, and when we started attending a Presbyterian Church in Missouri, after my children were born, I once again experienced that strange need to be in the pulpit. I just can't figure out why. I don't think of myself as particularly pastoral, though I am compassionate and empathetic and have had to learn, over the years, how to protect myself because I tend to sponge up people's emotions and feel the need to fight other people's battles. Most people don't appreciate that, and it's really not healthy. So I created strong, self-protective barriers that sometimes translate into callousness.
Writers are not taught how to "take care of themselves," nor are they given the warning and tools that psychologists, sociologists and clergy are given to prevent absorbing other's pain and getting lost in it. My suspicion is that writers learn how to protect themselves by looking at everything like it's a story.
I explored ministry once before, and after taking the Boot Camp Introduction to Theology Course, went running the other way until I figured out how to deal with some of the questions raised in the class. I was content to see what I did in communications for the church as a form of ministry without going through the ordination process.
That changed recently, for a number of reasons. One, when looking for another job I realized I didn't not want to work for the church. The church is important, and does fabulous things, and as I wrestle with my understanding of Christianity and Jesus and what matters and what doesn't, I realize that through my work, I am working towards being a better person, towards being more loving and compassionate ... as Bishop Matthews said recently, to be a better person the day before and to be a better person tomorrow then I am today, not just to be a better person, but to be the person God created me to be and, maybe, to help others be the persons they have been created to be.
But the second thing that really caught at me was being allowed to help with worship. I discovered I loved it -- I'm not a big fan of sitting in church and worshiping and all that, though I love silent prayer in a room full of people, all sitting in silence. What I love is the act of planning worship-the metaphors, the images, the words, all of those things that can make worship meaningful to others.
Creating, to me, is prayer. Can I do this creating without ordination? Sure. But, would I be a more effective agent of change if I did pursue ordination? Or am I more effective as laity?
I don't know, which is why I'll be working through Understanding God's Call: A Ministry Inquiry Process. I thought I would do it on-line ... Why not?
Monday, November 30, 2009
Tuesday, November 24, 2009
Thanksgiving
Someone mentioned the other day that there was a Facebook thing going on the asked people to list one thing you're thankful for each day through November. Since I am not doing this on Facebook, I'll do it here. In no particular order ...
1. I'm truly thankful for life--all of it.
2. I'm thankful for the work I do. It doesn't feel like work.
3. I'm thankful for my husband. We met in high school, broke up three years later, and got married seven years after that. I just never realized how truly unique, how truly difficult it is to find someone with whom a relationship seems simple. (Not that it's really simple, it just never seems difficult, even when there are bumps in the road.)
4. I am so thankful for my children. When I thought about having kids, it was some mythical put-them-in-the-corner/dust-them-off-for-Christmas kind of way, so the actuality was kind of a shock. They are amazing--they came to us with personalities in place and it has been an honor to be a part of their journey through life.
5. I am thankful that my parents raised me. From my mother, I learned compassion and being silly; from my father, I learned how to defend my thoughts and beliefs and that there was more in the world beyond what we knew. From both I learned integrity and honesty.
6. I'm thankful for my 6'6" little brother, who shared many hours in the car playing stupid games we invented, and who always thinks I'm better, more talented and more wonderful then I do.
7. I'm thankful that after my parents' deaths, my brother and I have gotten even closer. It's always wonderful to have someone who remembers you when you were a child and who shares the same memories and traditions of being young.
8. I am thankful for the friends I've had and kept, and those who have passed through my life. Each has left a mark on me ... like the Joni Mitchell song off of Blue, the name escapes me, but the line is "part of you pours out of me in these lines from time-to-time." Part of every friend I've had pours out of me in this life from time-to-time.
9. I am thankful for my in-laws. They have always been an inspiration, especially my mother- and father-in-law who were, in all senses of the word, true Christians.
10. I am thankful that I discovered I wanted to be a writer when I was 12 and never really looked back. I didn't know what I was going to write, just that I was going to write. And I have.
11. I'm thankful that there's always something more to learn, someone more to love.
12. I'm thankful for music.
13. I'm thankful that music is at the core of my being, the deepest way I learn, the deepest way I think, and I'm thankful for every moment I feel music sing in my soul so deeply I want to become that music.
14. I'm thankful my mother gave me her piano.
15. I'm thankful for color. I can spend hours--and often do--playing with color. I can hear music in color. I dream in color. I love to organize crayons or paint chips or embroidery floss skeins in rainbows. I love to look at a color and go into a paint store and match it from memory. I am thankful for that gift.
16. I am thankful that I have gotten to move around so much. I have loved every place we've lived, though there were always things I didn't like (humidity in St. Louis, for one) and I have found the history and people interesting to get to know.
17. I'm thankful for people who take the time to tell you that something you did made a difference in your life.
18. I'm thankful that I can tell someone else that what they did made a difference in my life.
19. I'm thankful that when I have been hungry, it has been by choice.
20. I'm thankful that I have always had a bed to sleep in, a blanket to keep me warm.
21. I'm thankful that we can pay our bills.
22. I'm thankful for all I inherited from my family--not just the heirlooms, though I'm thankful for those--but for those people who came before me and shaped me.
23. I'm thankful for books and movies and television -- it's not just entertainment; I've learned alot from pop culture, some of it even useful.
24. I'm thankful for those brilliant minds that continue to inspire me and the amazing, witty quotes that I seem to remember all the time... Wilde, Parker, Twain, you know ...
25. I'm thankful for God. I still struggle with understanding all God is, but I never doubt that God has created us to love one another, to love the world around us, to constantly learn and explore and touch and experience.
26. I'm thankful that I , somehow, despite everything, despite momentary and instant reactions, am, at the end of the day, a very fair person.
27. I'm thankful that, again, somehow, I appreciate people for who they are and what they've experienced and even who they can be; but mostly, I'm thankful that they are who they are.
28. I'm thankful to every person who has listened to my questions and has offered me a new way of thinking about something.
29. I'm thankful for the communicators I've met through the United Methodist connection because they are so quick to offer their support, their help and their faith.
30. I'm thankful for my five senses, that allow me to feel, taste, touch, experience, hear and see the beauty of all of God's creations.
Finally, I'm thankful that this list made me really think about gratitude.
Happy Thanksgiving.
1. I'm truly thankful for life--all of it.
2. I'm thankful for the work I do. It doesn't feel like work.
3. I'm thankful for my husband. We met in high school, broke up three years later, and got married seven years after that. I just never realized how truly unique, how truly difficult it is to find someone with whom a relationship seems simple. (Not that it's really simple, it just never seems difficult, even when there are bumps in the road.)
4. I am so thankful for my children. When I thought about having kids, it was some mythical put-them-in-the-corner/dust-them-off-for-Christmas kind of way, so the actuality was kind of a shock. They are amazing--they came to us with personalities in place and it has been an honor to be a part of their journey through life.
5. I am thankful that my parents raised me. From my mother, I learned compassion and being silly; from my father, I learned how to defend my thoughts and beliefs and that there was more in the world beyond what we knew. From both I learned integrity and honesty.
6. I'm thankful for my 6'6" little brother, who shared many hours in the car playing stupid games we invented, and who always thinks I'm better, more talented and more wonderful then I do.
7. I'm thankful that after my parents' deaths, my brother and I have gotten even closer. It's always wonderful to have someone who remembers you when you were a child and who shares the same memories and traditions of being young.
8. I am thankful for the friends I've had and kept, and those who have passed through my life. Each has left a mark on me ... like the Joni Mitchell song off of Blue, the name escapes me, but the line is "part of you pours out of me in these lines from time-to-time." Part of every friend I've had pours out of me in this life from time-to-time.
9. I am thankful for my in-laws. They have always been an inspiration, especially my mother- and father-in-law who were, in all senses of the word, true Christians.
10. I am thankful that I discovered I wanted to be a writer when I was 12 and never really looked back. I didn't know what I was going to write, just that I was going to write. And I have.
11. I'm thankful that there's always something more to learn, someone more to love.
12. I'm thankful for music.
13. I'm thankful that music is at the core of my being, the deepest way I learn, the deepest way I think, and I'm thankful for every moment I feel music sing in my soul so deeply I want to become that music.
14. I'm thankful my mother gave me her piano.
15. I'm thankful for color. I can spend hours--and often do--playing with color. I can hear music in color. I dream in color. I love to organize crayons or paint chips or embroidery floss skeins in rainbows. I love to look at a color and go into a paint store and match it from memory. I am thankful for that gift.
16. I am thankful that I have gotten to move around so much. I have loved every place we've lived, though there were always things I didn't like (humidity in St. Louis, for one) and I have found the history and people interesting to get to know.
17. I'm thankful for people who take the time to tell you that something you did made a difference in your life.
18. I'm thankful that I can tell someone else that what they did made a difference in my life.
19. I'm thankful that when I have been hungry, it has been by choice.
20. I'm thankful that I have always had a bed to sleep in, a blanket to keep me warm.
21. I'm thankful that we can pay our bills.
22. I'm thankful for all I inherited from my family--not just the heirlooms, though I'm thankful for those--but for those people who came before me and shaped me.
23. I'm thankful for books and movies and television -- it's not just entertainment; I've learned alot from pop culture, some of it even useful.
24. I'm thankful for those brilliant minds that continue to inspire me and the amazing, witty quotes that I seem to remember all the time... Wilde, Parker, Twain, you know ...
25. I'm thankful for God. I still struggle with understanding all God is, but I never doubt that God has created us to love one another, to love the world around us, to constantly learn and explore and touch and experience.
26. I'm thankful that I , somehow, despite everything, despite momentary and instant reactions, am, at the end of the day, a very fair person.
27. I'm thankful that, again, somehow, I appreciate people for who they are and what they've experienced and even who they can be; but mostly, I'm thankful that they are who they are.
28. I'm thankful to every person who has listened to my questions and has offered me a new way of thinking about something.
29. I'm thankful for the communicators I've met through the United Methodist connection because they are so quick to offer their support, their help and their faith.
30. I'm thankful for my five senses, that allow me to feel, taste, touch, experience, hear and see the beauty of all of God's creations.
Finally, I'm thankful that this list made me really think about gratitude.
Happy Thanksgiving.
Saturday, November 14, 2009
Bon bons for the mind
I confess, I'm an addict. Romance novels ...
It all started when I was about 12 and my mother told me I should read Gone With the Wind followed by Rebecca and Ramona. From there I wandered through all of duMaurier's books, a bunch of Gothics--loved Gothics--then stumbled onto Georgette Heyer by the time I was 14.
I still love Georgette Heyer. Lots of people do. There are sites dedicated to the Regency period, with histories, costumes, manners and mores, a list of the peerage in order of precedence and forms of address, maps of London with who (meaning in the aristocracy) lived where. The Georgian Index is one of my favorites. There are glossaries of slang and I will every once in a while use a phrase Heyer used, my favorites being "her attic's to let," or "shatter-brained," or even "pocket Venus." I actually used the latter in a script.
There's a great story out of St. Louis. Evidently, in the 1970s, they used to host Georgette Heyer Teas at the St. Louis Museum of Art. Those lovely, gentile gatherings ended after someone made the mistake of scheduling a tea on the same day of a Star Trek gathering. The images boggle the mind ...
Occasionally or for periods of time I'll wander away from romances and read mysteries, historicals, biographies, fantasy (mostly Lord of the Rings imitators), bizarre novels like those by Christopher Moore--try Lamb or Coyote Blue for fun--or Carl Hiasson. Oh, and I actually read some literature--even some that wasn't required reading.
But I always end up back at romances. Why? I don't know ...
It's not that there's a much difference between the books. There are definitely conventions for all the genres and the plots, what there is of a plot, are mostly the same, though some authors handle world-creation, history and characters better then others. Some authors are just better writers and actually use lovely imagery and all those things writers are suppose to use, but often don't in mass market publishing because, well, no one expects to remember the novel.
Actually, they used to sell a bound book listing all the romance series novels, i.e., Harlequins, published so you could check them off, not risking accidentally buying the same book twice.
Yes, they're superficial, light, meaningless ... I often think of them as "bon bons for the mind" or "pick your fantasy for the day." I confess, though, I have a similar relationship to trashy novels as I do to chocolate: I know I should indulge in something more substantial, but give me my chocolate ... NOW.
They've discovered that dark chocolate is actually good for you--lowers blood pressure, releases endimorphins and just makes you feel yummy all over ... Maybe there's hope for romances.
It all started when I was about 12 and my mother told me I should read Gone With the Wind followed by Rebecca and Ramona. From there I wandered through all of duMaurier's books, a bunch of Gothics--loved Gothics--then stumbled onto Georgette Heyer by the time I was 14.
I still love Georgette Heyer. Lots of people do. There are sites dedicated to the Regency period, with histories, costumes, manners and mores, a list of the peerage in order of precedence and forms of address, maps of London with who (meaning in the aristocracy) lived where. The Georgian Index is one of my favorites. There are glossaries of slang and I will every once in a while use a phrase Heyer used, my favorites being "her attic's to let," or "shatter-brained," or even "pocket Venus." I actually used the latter in a script.
There's a great story out of St. Louis. Evidently, in the 1970s, they used to host Georgette Heyer Teas at the St. Louis Museum of Art. Those lovely, gentile gatherings ended after someone made the mistake of scheduling a tea on the same day of a Star Trek gathering. The images boggle the mind ...
Occasionally or for periods of time I'll wander away from romances and read mysteries, historicals, biographies, fantasy (mostly Lord of the Rings imitators), bizarre novels like those by Christopher Moore--try Lamb or Coyote Blue for fun--or Carl Hiasson. Oh, and I actually read some literature--even some that wasn't required reading.
But I always end up back at romances. Why? I don't know ...
It's not that there's a much difference between the books. There are definitely conventions for all the genres and the plots, what there is of a plot, are mostly the same, though some authors handle world-creation, history and characters better then others. Some authors are just better writers and actually use lovely imagery and all those things writers are suppose to use, but often don't in mass market publishing because, well, no one expects to remember the novel.
Actually, they used to sell a bound book listing all the romance series novels, i.e., Harlequins, published so you could check them off, not risking accidentally buying the same book twice.
Yes, they're superficial, light, meaningless ... I often think of them as "bon bons for the mind" or "pick your fantasy for the day." I confess, though, I have a similar relationship to trashy novels as I do to chocolate: I know I should indulge in something more substantial, but give me my chocolate ... NOW.
They've discovered that dark chocolate is actually good for you--lowers blood pressure, releases endimorphins and just makes you feel yummy all over ... Maybe there's hope for romances.
Friday, November 13, 2009
26 years ago ...
My daughter turned 26 today.
I've been thinking about this a lot lately. The co-chairs of the Communications Team in Troy Conference are around my daughter's age, and I remembered looking at one of them thinking, "How can she be the same age as my daughter when my daughter is still a child and Becca is an adult?"
Don't get me wrong. My daughter has been self-supporting and living 1,000 miles away (did I mention I miss her?) for four years; before that, she moved out for a while before coming back home and regrouping. She's been employed for 10 years, in a committed relationship for five years or so, and she's back in school pursuing a degree in graphic animation and writing.
So, she really is an adult, but ...
I close my eyes and see her in her funny striped cotton jammies hanging on to the belt loops of my husband's saggy jeans and begin hung onto by her brother, also clothed in funny striped jammies, doing this silly train dance across the kitchen. I see her sound asleep, clutching a stuffed rabbit, sprawled in front of the screen door. I see her blowing on my mother's cheek and laughing hysterically at her accomplishment.
There's a great scene in the remake of "Father of the Bride," when Steve Martin's character's daughter announces she's getting married and he looks at her, and she's this little girl in diapers, and Lord, do I sympathize.
I don't want to get maudlin or trite or anything ... hum, "Sunrise, sunset" in the background here ... but it does go fast, doesn't it? In the midst of raising children, you think you're never going to have another adult conversation, or go anywhere without packing for a month, or actually be able to take a bath alone, and then, suddenly, your kids are grown and they are wondering if they're ever going to have another adult conversation, or go anywhere without packing for a month or taking a bath alone ...
When she was born, I dutiful wrote my hopes and dreams for her ... they were pretty simple, I guess. I just wanted her to be happy, love what she did and think beyond herself.
Know what? She is everything I dreamed.
What's even better is my son surprised her tonight by flying out to see her. Her boyfriend took her out to a Japanese restaurant for dinner and her brother was waiting for her. I wish I could have been there ...
So happy birthday, baby girl! You are a gift, a promise and a realization!
I've been thinking about this a lot lately. The co-chairs of the Communications Team in Troy Conference are around my daughter's age, and I remembered looking at one of them thinking, "How can she be the same age as my daughter when my daughter is still a child and Becca is an adult?"
Don't get me wrong. My daughter has been self-supporting and living 1,000 miles away (did I mention I miss her?) for four years; before that, she moved out for a while before coming back home and regrouping. She's been employed for 10 years, in a committed relationship for five years or so, and she's back in school pursuing a degree in graphic animation and writing.
So, she really is an adult, but ...
I close my eyes and see her in her funny striped cotton jammies hanging on to the belt loops of my husband's saggy jeans and begin hung onto by her brother, also clothed in funny striped jammies, doing this silly train dance across the kitchen. I see her sound asleep, clutching a stuffed rabbit, sprawled in front of the screen door. I see her blowing on my mother's cheek and laughing hysterically at her accomplishment.
There's a great scene in the remake of "Father of the Bride," when Steve Martin's character's daughter announces she's getting married and he looks at her, and she's this little girl in diapers, and Lord, do I sympathize.
I don't want to get maudlin or trite or anything ... hum, "Sunrise, sunset" in the background here ... but it does go fast, doesn't it? In the midst of raising children, you think you're never going to have another adult conversation, or go anywhere without packing for a month, or actually be able to take a bath alone, and then, suddenly, your kids are grown and they are wondering if they're ever going to have another adult conversation, or go anywhere without packing for a month or taking a bath alone ...
When she was born, I dutiful wrote my hopes and dreams for her ... they were pretty simple, I guess. I just wanted her to be happy, love what she did and think beyond herself.
Know what? She is everything I dreamed.
What's even better is my son surprised her tonight by flying out to see her. Her boyfriend took her out to a Japanese restaurant for dinner and her brother was waiting for her. I wish I could have been there ...
So happy birthday, baby girl! You are a gift, a promise and a realization!
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