Answers

Dear Friends,
I have my answers now. Mike ended it today. It wasn't my imagination that he was pulling away. So we bless each other and move on.

I've never felt comfortable with the practice of never speaking again to anyone, much less someone who has been important in my life. I want to honor the relationship as it was and let it become something else. This time, though, I'm not sure about that. Perhaps this relationship has run the full track of the roller coaster and has come safely into the embark/disembark shelter. It is time to disembark with fond memories of the ride.

Other things will be occupying my mind soon as classes resume this week.
Imagine good things,
Mary

Gifts 2

Dear Friends,
Mike did not get me a Christmas present, though he said he intended to get me... a prayer journal! Imagine that. He said we would exchange gifts when I see him this week. I'm glad I said something, not because the gift is so important, but because my most common love error is to suffer in silence. Whenever I feel hurt or unloved or unlovable I tend to draw into myself and take responsibility for feeling that way and forgive the other person without ever expressing a thing. That is no way to be known. And how can I be loved by someone I don't allow to know me?

I feel differently about gifts today than I did when I posted the other day. I knew even then that material stuff is not the stuff of life and love. But my insecurities arose and I found myself asking the question, Am I being blind and naiive here? Am I creating a fantasy love and ignoring evidence that the real man is not, in fact, in love with me? I ask myself those questions a lot and I don't know the answers.
Mary

Prayer

Dear Friends,
I've been preaching about prayer lately and I have to admit I feel a bit ambivalent about it. There are some real dangers in just assuming prayer is simple and good. One problem is placing the authority of God behind a decision or choice one makes. Ministers are often caught in a cunundrum when a deacon or elder comes to a meeting and announces, "The Lord told me...". Such statements tend to conclude with things like, "we need to buy that property out on the highway." Okay. Well, did God tell you how we should pay for it? The only answer to such pragmatic questions is then, "Trust Him. It'll all work out." Then we get regaled with stories of the elder's uncle whose church made a similar decision to Trust God and how well everything worked out. Again, that is great, but the problem is such things are conversation stoppers. Nobody can raise real questions without exposing her/his lack of faith.

Another potential problem with prayer is the way it can set us up to see God as fickle. We hear stories of how Aunt Maude prayed for her son and his cancer disappeared over night and we wonder why our miracle has not come.

Prayer can set people up to see God as a doting uncle with deep pockets who just waits for you to ask so he can reward you with whatever your heart desires.

The problem with all of these scenerios is, Who would worship such a God? God tells people to take financial risks with the church's money that they would never take with their own. God heals some and leaves others to absolute pain and despair. God is like a slot machine in Vegas, taking in prayers like quarters and every so often answering one with a jackpot. Such a god is theologically disgusting.

But there is something profoundly healing in prayer. Community is built on common prayer. Peace does come in response to the unburdening of confession. Hope does come through prayers offered in hospital waiting rooms. Salvation waits for those who would humble themselves in prayer and ask with open hearts. Who can deny such things?

And so I counsel my congregation to pray while I struggle with it myself. Such is the life of a pastor.
Imagine all things good,
Mary

Gifts

Dear Friends,
I'm afraid Mike didn't get me a present for Christmas and I'm afraid of what that means. Is it possible to love the woman of your dreams and not get her a present for Christmas? Is it possible to be in love without buying something once in a while, at least at Christmas and birthdays? I have a whole collection of presents I got for him while I was Christmas shopping and while I was vacationing in Colorado. I got something for his son. Did he ever get me anything? Does it matter? Should it? Should I let it go? Or does it really mean everything at the end of the day? I honestly don't know. I asked him (by text) but he hasn't answsered me. A friend told me last night that clearly Mike and I don't love each other because love doesn't act like this. Perhaps that friend is right. I just don't know.
Mary

Coins

Dear Friends,
I had coins all over my house, in drawers, collecting dust on my dresser and desk, in little baskets, just wherever. Today I collected them all into a large jar. I wonder how much money is in that jar. There are loads of pennies, of course. But there are also nickles, dimes, quarters, and even at least one dollar coin. There are also coins from France, Germany, and Canada. For good measure I added the $2 bill that I got as a time years ago when I was a waitress.

I can remember searching under the floormats of our car back when I was married, looking for the final $2.40 we needed to pay rent. We actually had to ask someone for two dollars and forty cents to pay our rent. That was awful.

I guess this jar is a symbol of getting my financial shit together in the new year. Next I want to organize my books. I could use a symbol of having my school shit together, too. One step at a time. One day at a time. One symbol at a time. One penny at a time.
Imagine wealth in the new year,
Mary

Woman of No Consequence, #11

Dear Friends,
I watch a lot of movies when I have time. During the break I have watched probably an average of two movies a day. My favorite professor teaches a class on film. He looks for patterns in Biblical texts and looks for similar patterns in film and puts the two into conversation with each other. He is brilliant at it. I've learned a lot about the texts and life from his observations of movies. I'm not so brilliant at it. My two attempts at writing film papers for him resulted in an A- and a B+. Not total disasters, but I'm not exactly a natural. I try.

My problem is I am not detached enough, not scholarly enough to notice the things he notices, like the lighting or the long camera shot or why those colors were used for that scene. I live the stories with the characters.

Embarrassing as it is, one of my favorite films is "The Holiday," starring Cameron Diaz and Kate Winslet (with Jude Law and Jack Black). At one point Kate's character is talking to a charming retired Hollywood writer who tells her she is obviously a "leading lady" and not "the best friend." She says something like, "I should be the leading lady of my own life, for goodness sake!" It seems so obvious, but she is kind of surprised by that idea. I have to admit, I am, too. Am I really the leading lady of my own life?

Today I was watching another film, "My Sassy Girl." During the credits they ran a list of "Woman of No Consequence" listed as #1 through #11. Wow. How would you like to call your mom and say, "I finally made it! I got cast in a film!" She asks what part you got. "I got 'Woman of No Consequence #11.'" Yikes! How awful. I want to watch the film again now and carefully count out each of them and learn their names. Silly, I know. And I won't actually do it. But I feel a sort of obligation to those actresses.

I really do believe Wayne Dyer when he tells me that "what I think about expands." I know I need to think positive things and imagine a wonderful life for myself and those around me. But the truth is, most of the time I feel like "Woman of No Consequence, #11." Yeah, I matter to a couple of people, mostly my kids, but really my life is of no consequence.

I'm not depressed and I don't want to die or anything like that. I'm actually very happy. I just don't seem to matter very much, even to myself. All this talk of finding your purpose or God's plan for your life or whatever just falls flat for me. I'm a person. So what?

This leads me to another line from a film. Sandra Bullock in "Hope Floats" tells her daughter, "I'm just an ordinary person, and that's okay, because you make me special." Yep. That rings a lot more true to me than, "God has a plan for my life and it is my mission to fulfill it." Whatever. I think I am a woman of no consequence and that is okay.

Be happy,
Mary

A Memorable Day

Dear Friends,
Today we got a new president. President Obama is really a welcome shock to the system. I am pleased for us all.

Today I also got a new computer. I logged on this morning as usual, but after a couple of hours my screen went black and that was the end of the dear old Think Pad. I knew that day was coming. Today is actually a good day for it because I have a week to break in a new one before school starts.

I got a Toshiba notebook, which is all well and good. I'm sure I'll love it eventually. I really do not enjoy moving into new technology homes ~ cell phones, computers, cars, whatever. My daughter even gave me an MP3 player she won and I gave it away rather than learn how to use it. I know, I know. Now today I got 50 free song downloads with the purchase of my new computer and I don't have an MP3 player. Whatever.

Now I have to purchase Microsoft Word or whatever. Good grief, I really don't know what I'm doing. I once purchased Microsoft Word for Teachers and Students 2003. Now I don't know where I've put it. I suppose I "need" the 2007 version anyway. The guy at the computer store told me my computer was ready to go right out of the box because everything was pre-loaded. Cool. Well, I still have to buy the 2007 Word thingy. It is loaded, but wouldn't I be better off buying it at the store so I have the CD to upload on my son's computer when he gets it? I'm so confused.

For now I'm going to bed. Sleep well President Obama. Sleep well new Toshiba. It has been a full day! :)
Be Happy,
Mary

Imagination

Dear Friends,
Something amazing has happened. Two of my blog friends have recently "come out" to say that their online personas were total fictions. One created a 78-year-old widower who missed his beloved deeply. Turns out his wife is very much alive. I have no idea how old he is. Guess he is male, though. The other is a married woman who created a fictional married woman who was retirement age and loving life. Both fictional characters were fantastic!

Folks in that particular blogging family are responding with confusion and some (I guess) are angry or feel betrayed or something. I'm not active enough in that blogging world to follow all the threads. Lots of folks are offering support and forgiveness. The whole thing is surreal. I can't imagine why they need support or forgiveness. What they need are book contracts! Both of them are great writers with amazing imaginations!

I am thrilled to know that adults are out there using their imaginations! Good for them! Why is a fiction interpreted as a lie? There is a difference. Anyway, I didn't want to jump into the middle of the fray over there, so I'm writing my thoughts here. How I wish I had such an active imagination. It cracks me up that I am the one with "imagine" in my blog name! Ha! I have so much to learn!
Be happy and imaginative!
Mary

Distractions

Dear Friends,
I've been listening to my Tony Robbins CDs and my Wayne Dyer tapes. I know my life could be "so much more" and I have the tools to make it whatever I want it to be. But I sit here at my computer and read blogs and play computer games. I wonder why? Am I just distracted or do I not know what I want? Or do I need down time? Do I need to play games to keep my mind sharp or to give my thoughts room to develop? I don't know.

It is odd because I don't really think I even like to play games that much. So why do I do it?
Just asking.
Mary

Happy

Dear Friends,
I started this blog because I wanted to challenge myself to imagine good things and not wallow in sadness or negativity. Yet, I was sad and lonely and a little lost. Now I rarely post and seem to have nothing to say. Why? I'm happy. Happiness is boring.

I still want to improve my life. There are so many things about myself, my habits, and my life that I would like to change. Yet, I don't seem to care enough to actually change them. I'm happy.

I have one more week of winter break. School starts January 28 for me. I already have received assignments that are due the first week, so effectively school has started. I'm trying to get myself to read a bit each day so I don't get overwhelmed and don't start the semester already behind. Trying. There is no try. Do or do not. Ha. Mostly I do not read ahead. I did read a few pages yesterday and a few today, but I'll have to step it up.

When I started this blog I had so much to say and was so hungry for new friends. Friendships take time and effort. I've let my new friends down. I haven't kept up my reading and commenting and writing and responding like I thought I would.

Anyway, for what it is worth, I'm glad a few of you read my blog and I do enjoy reading yours. Leave me a link to your blogs if I don't already have it. I want to get to know you. Really, I do.

Happy writing, my friends. Be well.
Mary

About Priorities

Dear Friends,
I'm thinking about priorities. My daughter is going to an expensive college and we are short $1600 from her first semester. I've always assumed my kids were my first priority and that I would do whatever it takes to get them launched in life. But I'm on disability and have limited income. If I make more money than I do now I risk losing Medicare and Medicaid. My daughter was already kicked off Medicaid because she is 19 and not pregnant. My application for a parent PLUS loan was denied because my student loans were forgiven due to my disability. I cannot get any new student loans. I knew that, of course, but never thought about it affecting my ability to help my daughter stay in school.

She is an A student with a bright future and knows what she wants to do with her life. I can't just let her be blocked from continuing her education, but how can I come up with that kind of money ~ both now, and each semester until she graduates? Is making her my priority enough? Did I make a mistake encouraging her to pursue what she desires in life? Should I have taught her to get a job and make her own way instead? That is what my parents taught me. I worked since I was 14, but somehow missed out on the high school experience and never developed a real passion. I want to encourage her. But how?

I want to declutter my house and live in a clean, peaceful, and beautiful home. I've worked on it quite a bit during the school break, but still have a long way to go. Yet, I sit here and play a game on the computer instead of scrubbing floors.

School starts back January 28, which seems so far away, but now is only 18 more days. I have major plans for tomorrow, Monday, and Tuesday, so that brings it to 15 days. I already have two assignments that are due when school starts. So, I need to order my books and get started. Sigh.

My son is growing up so fast. Yesterday we travelled to see him perform at the state conference of high school thespians. His performance was amazing, as was the whole show. He is dating a lovely, adorable girl. He seems to be doing so well, but do I give him enough attention and time? No. Of course not.

I have a meeting on Monday with my "Commission on Ordination." They are going to ask me all sorts of questions about how much God is doing in my life and how sure I am of my call to ministry and ordination. My answers are: "Um... not sure." Not wise to say that, though.

I love Mike desperately, or at least I think I do. Yet I'm desperately unhappy. I want so badly to be in love with a man who loves me (Mike does) AND makes me his priority (Mike doesn't).

So I wake up every morning wondering what is important to me. How should I spend my time and money and resources today? If I knew what I wanted it would sure help.

Imagine a good life,
Mary

Going Home Part 2

Dear Friends,
Going home is much more than theological discomfort. It is also great fun. My sister and I are very close and have been all our lives. It is always fun to hang out with her. If possible we sneak away to lunch at Olive Garden. Doubt we'll have a chance this time because our trip is so short this time. We are supposed to go up there tomorrow and leave Friday, so if we don't go on Christmas Eve we won't make it.

My mom loves to cook and is very good at it. I'm sure we will have great food at her house. We are having Christmas dinner at my brother's house. He has a tradition of ordering Omaha Steak burgers on line and grilling them on Christmas. Yum! We have burgers with all the fixin's, a variety of salads, some kind of beans, and dessert! My little family is bringing dessert this year. My son wants to make raspberry fudge. My daughter is bringing pumpkin pie with whipped cream, and I'm making cranberry stuff. You put a package of frozen cranberries in a pan with a cup of sugar, two cinnamon sticks, and a bit of water (not much), and let it simmer. Mmmm.

My brothers started a tradition of "the big game" (basketball) when they were younger and the kids were kids. Now the kids are teenagers and the uncles are late forties, so the uncles are the last chosen for the teams instead of the first! Ha. But they'll still play if they have a chance, I'm sure. Usually all nine cousins played if they could. Now I think they are down to seven or six that still want to play.

I guess it is mom's cooking that has kept our family together all these years. The cousins are really close, especially the three boys who are now 18, 17, and 17. They play video games on line even though they live in different cities. The six girls communicate mostly on Facebook. Now the oldest cousin is married with a baby, so we are four generations to gather for Christmas. When we are together all the generations often do a jigsaw puzzle and play board games, especially "Ticket to Ride." We call it "the train game."

The day after Christmas is cousin shopping day and my generation sneaks off to the movies. My mom gives each grandchild an invitation to lunch as their annual Christmas present. Normally the cousins get together and search the internet for restaurant reviews, picking out where they want to go this year. Each kid gets to pick the restaurant of his/her choice, but they like to go in groups. So, the week between Christmas and New Year's usually finds mom taking a handful of kids to lunch at least two or three different days. This year all of this will be different as most of us are leaving on the 26th. We have a lot of traditions to fit into just Christmas Eve and Christmas day.

Going home is really a lot of fun and I'm looking forward to it. After all, church isn't everything.
Imagine a wonderful holiday break everyone,
Mary

Going Home

Dear Friends,
I have changed. I change all the time. I suppose we all do. Entering seminary "should" have made me even more into the image of my family. I followed in the footsteps of so many who have gone before me. We should be able to converse easily with one another, using the secret language of the initiate. But, no. I embraced what they resisted. I have resisted what they embraced.

Once I had the great joy to attend a lecture given by my professor to a group of clergy that included a member of my family. This professor is well respected in his field and has published some 14 books or more. He earned his PhD forty years ago and has continued to read and study and write ever since. The man knows his stuff and I adore him. I leaped for joy, literally, when he asked me to serve as his research assistant. I have now been his RA for nearly five years. I've read most of his books, but one in particular changed my life forever. Here is the moment when my two worlds meet and the golden gate is opened for me to enter into the heart of my own family. He rises and speaks with such wisdom and grace, intelligence and plain old knowledge gained from so many years of disciplined work. We come to the first break and I seek out my family member and eagerly ask, "What did you think?" The reply, "Well, I disagreed with everything he said, but other than that it was okay, I guess." This family member then turned away from me and walked away.

Not long after that my mother was invited to do a workshop at a church in the town where I live. One of my friends is the minister of that church. He and I have coffee and conversations as often as our schedules allow. I admire him greatly and we talk easily about all things God and church. Actually, he heard about Mom's workshop from some other source, not from me, but when he found out she was my mother he was delighted. The day came for their first planning meeting and my mother introduced herself by distancing herself from me. "Nice to meet you," she said. "You need to know that I am nowhere near as liberal as my daughter." Thanks Mom.

I followed in the family footsteps but they led me away from them instead of to them. How can that be? And so I return "home" for Christmas, to attend church with loved ones who want nothing to do with me theologically. I should worship with them knowing they disapprove of me. Every other member of my family will participate in worship by singing in the band or reading scripture or serving communion or preaching. Not me. I will sit alone and observe worship as one with her nose pressed against the glass, too little and too late to enter into the joy of the family. Yet it would insult them if I were to choose to worship with people who embrace me on that holy night. Ah, is there room at the inn for me? Perhaps I should just make a pallet in the stable out back. Good enough, eh?

Sorry, no I do not think I am the Christ child. But somehow I feel an affinity for the predicament of being called for a mandatory appearance only to find there is no room for you there. And unto us a child is born. Unto us a son is given.
Imagine peace, hope, love, and joy with me. Would you?
Mary

Significantly Dissimilar

Dear Friends,
As part of my requirements for ordination I had to see an especially selected psychologist for a psych eval. The Regional Office (ordination authority) has an on-going relationship with this guy and they send all their candidates to him for evaluation. He uses the normal battery of tests and adds one or two at the Region's request. Mostly though, the difference between this psych eval and any other is that it is specifically designed to measure aptitude and fitness for ministry. The whole ordeal took three visits and a total of about six hours, I think. I tested for three hours, was interviewed for one hour and came back for another two hours to get my results. This, of course, also involved a lot of interaction, which was then considered for the final report.

I just pulled out the reports so I can write about it here, but what I remember without looking is this. He said my profile was "significantly dissimilar" from the cohort of successful female Protestant ministers. This cohort is determined by surveys sent to ministers who self report and also report on their colleagues. "Successful" means they are happy and satisfied in their work and their colleagues name them as successful. Something like that. He wrote in my report, "career satisfaction in congregational ministry cannot be predicted, nor can persistence in that career." Oh, and he said I "somatize distress." I think that is psycho-babble for "she is a hypochondriac." No place in the report did he mention that I reported having been diagnosed with narcolepsy, a neurological disorder, and that I am under the care of a physician. Whatever.

My Meyers-Briggs was INTP. I already knew that. What I didn't know was how severe are my introversion and intuitive proclivities. I scored: Introversion, very clear, 26 (out of 30); Intuition, very clear, 30; Thinking, clear, 16; Perceiving, clear, 23. He said that they have found that people who score that high on N, intuition, tended to have trouble noticing reality around them. They tend to "have their heads in the clouds," or be the "absent-minded professor" type. Yep. That's me.

The Strong Interest Inventory uses a 65 pt. scale. Don't ask me why. This is the "similar" or "dissimilar" test, comparing my inventory to a cohort of those who are considered satisfied and successful in that career. I scored 63 on "Editor," 61 on "Graphic Designer," 60 each on "Technical Writer" and "Translator," 59 each on "Librarian" and "Photographer," 58 on "Musician," 52 on "University Professor," etc. The score this guy was interested in was "Minister." I scored 20.

Do you think I should re-think my career choice? Yeah, technical writer/editor looks like the right fit for me, but here I am finishing a masters of divinity degree. Sometimes life is funny. One Day at a Time... Take it Easy... Don't Sweat the Small Stuff... . I seem to live by the Alanon slogans.

A couple of things make me hesitate to chuck ministry. First, my little church has stood by me and made my seminary education possible. They believe in me and think I'm a pretty swell minister. Second, I do the ministry the cohort of satisfied female Protestant ministers do not do. I allow people their pain and disappointment without promising them a rose garden if they will be baptized in my church and then tithe. Or at least tithe. Tithe means give 10% of your income to the church. It is based on the tax code of the Hebrew Bible (Old Testament). Yeah. Tax code.

I am not personally offended by people who smell bad, have missing or black teeth, can't keep a job, spend their money inappropriately, get drunk or high, or practice promiscuous sex. Nor do I think it is my job to save them from such things. I feel no need to make them my best friends. I don't have any illusions about becoming their savior... from themselves, from hell, from an abusive marriage, or from anything else. Healing and growth are normal parts of human experience, as are sickness, dysfunction, and self-destruction. Jesus said, "Do not judge." Now that is a simple enough directive, isn't it? Yet, the cohort of successful ministers spend their lives doing just that. Excuse me, that was rude. I should not speak for a cohort I do not represent. But it sure seems to me that much of what we assume ministry is about is making people better in some sense.

I certainly hope that folks who listen to me preach and teach and who receive my ministry gifts will benefit by those experiences, but I am not responsible for seeing to it that they change. I am not there to diagnose their ills and straighten them out. And I absolutely do not think that adopting American cultural Christianity is the answer to everything from depression to alcoholism to cancer. "What would Jesus do?" Hmmm. He didn't baptize folks. He didn't accept money for healing them. He didn't tell them to meet Victorian sexual ethics. Seems to me that he ate with them, healed them, blessed them, forgave them, encouraged them with parables, and sent them on their way. Why can't we do that in the church and call it ministry?

Yeah. I'm "significantly dissimilar." God bless them. God bless me.
Imagine a good life,
Mary

Scandalous Christmas

Dear Friends,
It is time to read the nativity stories in the gospels of the New Testament, and guess what? Only two of the four are interested in his birth and they tell contradictory stories. In other words, we have no historical evidence of anything about his birth, except his mother's name was likely Mariam (same as Moses' sister), and she was unmarried at the time of his conception, but married Joseph later. It is unclear why he is not named as son of Joseph in the literature.

Adoption was common and even admirable in the ancient world. Caesar Augustus' name was Octavius and he was adopted by Julius. Julius was assassinated when Octavius was only 17 years old and he raised an army to defeat Antony and Cleopatra for the succession to the throne. One of Octavian's names was "son of god" ~ which was taken literally as Julius had been declared a god by the Roman senate. Oh, Greek uses different case endings on names, so you have Octavius in the nominative and Octavian in the accusative. In Greek the genitive would actually be "of Octavius" and the form is "tou Octaviou," but it doesn't work in English. Did you care? Of course not.

The point is that adoption was common and a sign of honor bestowed on the adopted son. In other words, Julius saw something remarkable in Octavius and brought him into his own lineage. If Joseph adopted Jesus we have no evidence of it. Infants were rarely adopted. The gospel of Matthew does say that Joseph named the child, so that is actually a claim of paternity. So the big question is, why is Jesus known as Jesus son of Mary or Jesus of Nazareth, but not Jesus bar Joseph? Honestly it makes no sense.

Place names were normally used either for the very famous (Herod of Judea) or the very common ~ slaves. Slaves didn't really have family names, or often their family name was lost as they entered slavery, so they became "John of Bethlehem" or whatever. Why didn't Jesus have a family name? We simply do not know the answer to that question. Actually, we don't even know for sure that he wasn't called Jesus bar Joseph during his life. We simply don't have literary evidence of it. The gospel writers do not call him that. I wonder why?

Matthew does the geneaolgy from Abraham through David to Joseph, but even Mattew doesn't use the name Jesus son of Joseph. Odd, huh? Also, take a look at the geneaology. He includes four women. That is really shocking in the ancient world. And the women he includes are not Sarah (Abraham's wife), or Rebecca, or Rachel and Leah (wives of Isaac and Jacob). They are scandolous women, all. The first is Tamar who slept with her father-in-law in order to produce an heir for her dead husband. The second is Rahab, the prostitute that helped the Israelite spies. The third is Ruth, a Moabite woman taken by Boaz after her husband Mahlon died, and finally "the wife of Uriah." We know her as Bathsheba, but Matthew wants to remind his hearers that she was someone else's wife when David took her. We have two foreign wives (Rahab and Ruth) and two sexually tainted wives (Tamar and Bathsheba). Then Matthew goes out of his way to spell out for us: Joseph is not the daddy!

Why do you suppose Matthew wants to begin his gospel in such a scandalous way? Just who did this savior come to save? The gospel ends with a call to "go and make disciples of the ethne." Ethne in Greek is a scandal word; it is a derogatory word for "those folks." In a world of inside group/outside group it was a bad word, a slang word, actually. My weak attempt at translating that would be, "go make students of the scum of the earth."

I find it exciting to worship a god who comes through scandalous women to live among and serve the scum, don't you? O Come, O Come Emmanuel ~ Come little one who is the flesh of God ~ God with us!
Merry Christmas,
Mary

Today

Dear Friends,
I've puzzled and puzzled and my puzzler is sore in trying to decide how to approach this blog. I give up. I'm just going to write and see what happens.

Graduation is looming large, even though it is a year and a half away. What am I going to do with my graduate degree and my empty nest? Shall I move to Michael's town, serve a church there, and see if we can make a life together? Shall I stay right here, keep my disability and my little church, keep my public housing apartment as long as I can so the kids will have "home" to come home to, and maybe write a book or start on a doctorate? Shall I start applying for a PhD program now and write a thesis to complete my master's degree? Where is the "hide under the covers" option?

Mike is working diligently toward applying to the police academy. He should be ready to apply next summer, but who knows how all the timing will work out. If he gets in, he should be finished with the basic school stuff by the time I graduate, but of course there are a couple of years of riding with someone and all that. He is building his life in his town and the whole thing assumes he will rely on his parents every single day to be there to help raise N. He is not designing a family life for the three of us. He thinks he is. Maybe he is. I don't know. I don't know how to sort through all of this. When he kisses me it is electric and I never want it to stop, but can I/should I move away from my kids to leap head first into his world where his mother is the center of all things?

I love writing and reading and doing research. A friend sent me his thesis yesterday and I need to read it soon and send him my notes. I love it when people trust me like that. This thesis is for his Doctor of Ministry degree and he apologized to me that it might not meet my standards! Ha! I haven't even finished my master's degree yet. He has the degree I'm working on, plus ten years as senior minister of a growing church. Yes, a growing church! That is very rare in our denomination!!! Still, he thinks my standards are too high for him. Wow, that blows my mind.

I wish I knew how to get into a job that pays steady and requires me to read and edit and comment all day. What degree is needed for that kind of work? Does anybody hire editors? I see that title around. How does one get that job? Would they want me? Would I be good at it?

I know about poverty, food stamps, medicaid, and housing. I know about disability, illness, weakness, and being blamed for one's own illness in our society. I know about rejection from family for not being Republican, marrying the right guy, owning a house, and loving the Lord ~ oh, and being healthy. I know what it is to lie on the floor completely helpless hoping someone I trust will come along and help me and also hoping most people will ignore me and leave me alone. I know that life is messy and hard and wonderful. I know that making meaning in certain moments shapes our lives, so I am able to do a wedding for a couple I already "know" will divorce. The wedding is a part of their story and it is valuable even if it is not the beginning of a whole life together. It may only be for a brief season of just a few months, but it is significant to them and should be blessed. Similarly I know how to do a funeral for an alcoholic man who abused his family and could not hold a job. I know how to sit with that family and help them make meaning of what it is to love someone like that, and to say good-bye with a certain sense of relief that it is finally over. I know how to listen to an immigrant who has been disrespected by the same police officer that rescued my neighbor's little girl from a very dangerous man once. I know how to appreciate that officer while not excusing his racism/classism/patriotism.

What can I do with my particular experiences, education, and gifts? All of my interests seem to point toward the abject and forgotten of society. There is no money in working with or advocating for folks like that. I have debt and I've been poor for a very long time. It would be so much easier to take a church position somewhere for a $42,000/year package and just live. But would it really be life for me? Or do I need to remain among my hardworking, heart-breaking, poor peers?

I don't know.
Thanks for reading, y'all. I do appreciate you making room for me in the blog world. I hope to post more frequently now. Life is good, if confusing and difficult at times.
Be well and happy,
Mary

Imagining a Future

Dear Friends,
I met the love of my life in August, 2007. Our first kiss was October 4 and it was wowie zowie at first sight. As I drove home from that first date I told my friend that if I believed in love at first sight, this was it. Mike is the sexiest, most gorgeous, strong, gentle, kind, and wonderful guy ever. We saw each other again and again and were soon saying the "L Word" ~ much sooner than my friends thought was prudent.

We waited a looooong time to make love the first time and it was soooooo hard to wait! Every time I saw him my heart jumped and bounced. I could barely breathe. I craved him with every inch of my skin and every sexual impulse of my body. When we finally did spend our first night together it was even better than I had imagined. That really doesn't happen in the real world, but it did for me that night.

Our sex life and our love just grew and grew. We were in love and all that goes with it. We had the stupid grins, the sighs at random moments, the little lover's secrets, and the big plans for a life together.

I knew from the start that he and his mother were close. I also knew he and his sons lived with her and her husband and their other adult son. I knew that Mike had moved in with his parents under extraordinary circumstances and that he had not lived with them since he joined the Navy to get away from them at age 17. He had only lived there three months when I met him. Surely it was only temporary. I understood. I was in love.

Mike's mom (M) escaped Cuba with her family when she was 12 and came to the US for political asylum. She is adorable and has a fierce love for her family. I liked her right away. I knew Mike was her pride and joy, so of course she'd love me. After all, he loved me and she'd want him to be happy, right? Can you say, "naive"??

She basically hates my guts. First, she is Baptist, so the very fact that I am a woman and a pastor makes me at least suspect, and more likely a straight-up Sinner! The man should be the spiritual head of the household, so how could her son be married to a minister? Then she mentioned once or twice that she and I should go to lunch sometime so we could have "girlfriend time" or something. Mike lives five hours away from me, so when I am in town our time together is precious. I just never made a priority of spending time with her alone in the early days. We finally sat down together to talk in March. She asked me to "make Mike" do some things (like quit smoking). I told her I don't know how to make another person do anything and if I did I wouldn't. I love and respect Mike as he is. I'll support him, but I won't try to change him.

I thought that was a loving and responsible thing for me to say. She thought I was uncaring and cold. She complained to Mike that I didn't spend enough time with Mike's little boy, N. Mike and I had already agreed not to invest N too much in our relationship until/unless we got engaged. N's mother has abandoned him and we didn't want to risk another mother figure abandoning him. Again, Mike's mom thought that meant I didn't care about N and would never bond with him. Clearly I was not the right one for Mike. Then she brought out the big guns and told Mike that she had prayed about it and God told her I wasn't the one. Then she had a dream about the "right one" and she wasn't quite sure who she was, but it wasn't me.

Oh, and for good measure Mike's parents "banned" me from their home. So now they hated my guts and never saw me, so there was no chance for them to get to know who I really am or to see me interact casually with N. Of course I never did anything to any of them. I was treated like a criminal, like it was dangerous for me to be in their home or something. I mean, who bans somebody from their house? I had never heard of such a thing, unless it was someone who had stolen from the house or something.

Poor Mike was living two lives; one inside the house and another outside. He had to negotiate time with me behind his parents' back because if they knew he was going out with me they would do something to sabotage it. Months went by and Mike never moved out of their house. Finally I couldn't take it any more and I broke up with him in September.

I've been meeting other men and have gone out with one new guy. I am supposed to be moving on and letting Mike go. But I'm still desperately in love with him I want him back, but nothing has changed. I don't know what to do. Somehow I've got to either imagine a way to have a life with him or imagine a way to have a life without him. Neither is working too well right now.

Be well and happy,
Mary

Resurrection in Our Time?

Dear Friends,
Today I am writing a paper on "resurrection." I struggle with wondering whether reducing it to simple platitudes and metaphors is good enough. Is resurrection "like a butterfly emerging from its cocoon"? Or like a seed giving way to a flower? Or like spring?

In my paper I am analyzing the movie, "Elizabethtown" (written and directed by Cameron Crowe, 2005) for its themes of resurrection. Have you seen it?

Our young hero, Drew (played by Orlando Bloom) prepares to kill himself after being told that the shoe he designed will cost the company he works for some $972 million. As he sits, gathering his courage to go through with the planned suicide, his cell phone rings. The ring tone is "I can make your grey skies bluer" from the song, "I Can't Get Next to You" (written by Barrett Strong and Norman J. Whitfield, performed by The Temptations, Motown Records).

Of course there is hesitation as he determines not to answer it, but finally does. It is his sister, calling to tell him their father has died and he is needed to take care of the arrangements. Of course he agrees, and the plot is off and running. So, in this film, the father's death literally "saves" the son. Interesting, huh? The film plays endlessly with the motif of life and death, death and life, purpose and purposelessness, and what is worth living for. It is a great film. I highly recommend it.

But, is it really worthy of analysis next to the letters of Paul? Paul thinks Jesus' resurrection means God is taking creation back from sin and is sanctifying and making it new. Paul thinks Jesus' death on a cross is the death of a martyr, who is then vindicated by God and exalted to heavenly status. Paul thinks Jesus' resurrection is the "first fruits" of the consummation of the story of God and human beings and all of creation. It flags the beginning of the return to paradise. It is proof that God (YHWH) is more powerful even than Rome. For Paul, Jesus' resurrection is "good news" that must be proclaimed, even at the certain cost of one's own life, most likely in the form of standard Roman execution, crucifixion.

Does anybody today have that kind of faith? That kind of zeal for God (or his/her conception of God)? We can point down through history to groups of folks who have killed in God's name. Some have killed themselves in the act of killing others, also for God. Some have committed suicide, alone or with others, in "obedience to God," or for the purpose of receiving some sort of eternal reward. But we are talking about a group of folks who proclaim, "God is Lord" in the face of the ruling power (Rome), without demanding insurgence or hunger strike or political action of any sort, but yet willing to die an unimaginably cruel and painful and humiliating death. It is beyond my ability to conceive.

You send a soldier to my house with orders that I either burn incense to Caesar or be arrested, flogged, and crucified? I'll burn the incense! And I don't mean that in a flippant or disrespectful way. In fact, I mean it with utmost respect. Who has that kind of fearlessness? That kind of trust in God?

Paul says, "if there is no resurrection from the dead, then we are of all [humans] most to be pitied." (1 Cor 15) Yeah. He isn't fooling around.

Our culture doesn't face anything remotely like that in our every day lives, for which I am truly and deeply thankful. Of course, our time does know true horror. But that brings me back to my question. Does resurrection demand a context of horror? Is "Elizabethtown" worthy of analysis in conversation with Paul?

The movie pokes at executives who take wealth too seriously. It says that corporate greed is nothing to live for and eventually it will be your un-doing. It says that love and connection and family and history and traditions are much more important than commercial success. Okay. Fine. Good. But is that worthy of a paper on resurrection? No wonder philosophers claim that we suffer a deficit of purpose. Is even that all there is?

Be well and happy,
Mary

New Friends

Dear Friends,
Welcome Matthew and Chris. I'm always quite flattered when others want to read my writing, and not just a little surprised. It is good to write a journal and share it. Somehow it draws me out of myself just a bit, so I am not soooo introverted and narcissistic. Perhaps I have a need to be a member of a tribe, working for something more than my own satisfaction or reward. Somehow the convent never appealed to me, though. Too many rules. Too little sex. I like to touch and be touched even as I like to contemplate. So, thank you both for dancing around the fire a bit with me. I enjoy both of your blogs very much.
Thanks for "following,"
Mary

My Stormy Love Affair with the Church

Dear Friends,
My father was a minister. My uncle is a minister. So are (big breath) my cousin and his wife, my brother and his ex-wife, my other brother's wife, my former father-in-law, my ex-husband, and now me. Two of my nieces who are in college now also plan to be ministers. You'd think going to seminary and becoming a minister would have brought me to the inside track of my family, but it hasn't worked out that way. I'll return to this in another post.

I grew up going to church. Duh. Along the way I developed a "personal relationship with Jesus" and even visited traditions different from ours in which people raised their hands while singing worship music. I loved that. There have been periods in my life in which I have prayed in tongues, held daily devotionals, even seen visions and felt God's specific answer to my prayers. When I was a teenager my brother called me a nerd-hippy-jock-Jesus-freak. Yep. That was me.

But growing up in a minister's family taught me something else, as well. There is a dark side to ministry and the church can be a very un-holy place, indeed. I knew beyond the shadow of a doubt that my dad was a sincere, hard working, smart, dedicated man who loved the Lord and his church with every fiber of his being. So, how could factions rise up from within the church he was giving his life to, and accuse him of things and try to get him fired? It happened more than once. My own youth minister sat behind me in an all-church meeting once and whispered loudly to the person next to him about how ridiculous I looked in the dress I was wearing and how glad he'd be when we were forced out and moved on. I wondered why that meeting was held in the meeting room of a building the church owned, but not in the sanctuary. I soon found out. They (some small group of people within the church) wanted to be out of sacred space to spew their venom at my father.

I don't remember what anybody said to him, or what the accusations were. They certainly were not questioning his morality. He was not accused of sexual impropriety or embezzling funds or any such thing. They were upset because he had over-hauled the youth department and the group had grown from 12 to 45. So many of the new kids came from the wrong kinds of families and the kids' parents didn't come and so it was too expensive to maintain that kind of growth. The church should be for the people who tithe. That kind of thing. They were offended because new people had positions of power and the old guard had a weakening voice. Anyway, they asked for Dad's resignation and he refused to give it, citing obligations to his wife and four children. If they were going to put his family out on the street, so be it, but he would not be complicit in that. Within three months he had secured a new position elsewhere and our family moved ~ right in the middle of my senior year in high school.

I can't tell you how many times in my life I have heard people tell me that I would be a minister some day. HELL NO! I was not interested in ever being treated like that for giving my life to something. I was very active in church as a lay person (a volunteer) and basked in the recognition I got as such a talented and dedicated young single mother, giving her life to the church when she was so sick and raising those kids on her own. Good for me. So, when the time came for me to go to seminary and to serve a church as their pastor I was very resistant. I still am six years later. I don't want it. Yet, here I am.

My little church is the great blessing of my life. They are incredibly good to me. I am very well paid for doing very little. Yet, they see value in my service. I don't know why. I really don't. I've had the privilege of doing weddings and funerals, grave side services and baptisms. I preach every Sunday, lead congregational singing, and sing solos or special music regularly. But, between you and me, I do less now than I did as a volunteer at my former church. This church is just a sleeply little church of aging folks who only have energy for church and Sunday School on Sunday mornings. I have no evening or mid-week obligations. We have no choir. We have no functional committees. We have nobody griping or complaining. We just gather, worship, and go home. And they pay me very well. So, how can I leave? Why would I?

Yet, I ask myself on a regular basis if I am even a Christian any more. And, if I'm not, am I ethically obligated to resign and leave the profession? When I talked with my professor of Pastoral Care, he was sure I was called to ministry and exhibit "gifts and graces" of ministerial service. He thinks the church and society need people like me to serve those who cannot be served by traditional ministers who spew judgmental morality and alienate those who most need acceptance by a God who's son reached out to the prostitutes and lepers.

How can I abandon those who are dis-enfranchised by the church they desperately want to embrace them? I say, if I were gay/lesbian I'd say the church can go screw itself. Who cares? But that isn't my call. There are same sex couples who long for a church where they can worship the Jesus of the gospels who called the meek and lowly the inheritors of God's blessings. Do I just abandon the church, dust off my hands, and leave those lovely people shut out?

Well, I can't tell my whole story in just a few posts, but this is a brief introduction to my ambiguity about ministry; why I stay and why I want to go.
Be well my friends,
Mary