Seeking Divinity

Transitions

2012-01-25T22:12:00.001-05:00

I’m playing with redirecting my Blogger account to Tumblr, just for fun. I can’t import all of my old posts, but got most of them I think.

Today’s session at Wellspring was on Death and Dying. For a sometimes dark subject, there was a lot of laughter (not uncomfortable laughter) andreal, down-to-earth discussion about denial, birth/death themes, fear, and planning.

When I got home and had a chance to read the news, I found many photos of Joe Paterno’s funeral procession. I grew up in State College, and JoePa was an eternal figure. He and my dad were the same age, and it’s hard to believe they are both gone. When I was reflecting on death today, it was a realization that I don’t think much about it, except as something far off. And my partner was surprised to find out that if I had a year to live, I’d slow way down - living moment to moment, enjoying the relationships that sustain me.

I wasn’t surprised. I am so busy finishing up school, and a year of major life events, that the idea of having a reason to slow down and just live life moment to moment, instead of as a headlong rush, was an imagined relief. Not that I hope for a death sentence anytime soon, but it was a reminder to stay in the moment as much as possible.

I’ve been hearing that message a lot lately, from different readings and encounters. It’s something I believe and try to practice as much as a busy mom of four can, but it’s a constant struggle. My daughter’s therapist said this week that thinking about the future causes anxiety, and that really resonates with me. I’m much more centered when I can be in the moment and not just trying to rush through it to the next one.

Theology on the Brain

2012-01-11T22:29:00.001-05:00

After a 3 day convocation on economics, I entered into the world of Multifaith Theology for my first week of intensive classes. It's pretty awesome, but I'm a complete theology geek. I love thinking about theology and all of the big questions of life - and how starting from one point rather than another - whether it's doctrine, social location, dialogue within a tradition or between then - changes the questions and focus of the theology. Just defining religion is a daunting task in and of itself.

I often think that all of life is about theology, whether people recognize it or not. How we approach the big questions of life - why are we here, what happens when we die, why are we here? These all have ethical implications that can be addressed in some ethical, moral, anthropological, theological, ultimately religious way. (at least etymologically).

So that's what I'm up to. My oldest, who accompanied me to Chicago, is with my sister for the week and I'm missing her, though I'm so busy keeping up with reading, writing and assignments (as well as getting caught up on a class from last semester), that I don't think she'd enjoy being around me that much right now. My two littles at home are sick, which I feel terrible about. My husband isn't getting any sleep. My other teen is heading off for her first time skiing (in Vermont no less) and I'm nervous about her newly healed broken shoulder. I'm sure it will be a blast though.

Right now, my head is full, so I'm off to watch the first episode of Shameless. Shameless, I know ;)

Ready (?) for the Windy City

2012-01-02T13:28:00.000-05:00

So, today is my last day at home until January 21st. There was a grocery run. There will be a haircut. There will be a meeting in Syracuse with my Lay Internship Committee tonight. There is lots of anxiety.

I really, really love Chicago. I love Meadville. I love my classmates and the faculty. I love my sister, who lives near there. I love my husband's niece and her family who are stationed at Great Lakes. I love Trader Joe's. I love Whole Foods. I love morning prayer with my roomies.

I *hate* waking up without my five-year-old to snuggle with. I will miss my dog. I will desperately miss my husband. I will miss my other two kids and their humor and hugs and snuggles and arguments. I will miss my huge bed and having Wegman's a mile away.

This is my last long trip for seminary. Some people think I'm pretty crazy for going, after the last six months we've had. I think I'd be crazy not to. Writing and friends and walking and theology are my anti-depressants. I will have 2.5 intense, crazy weeks of all of those things. And Emma's coming with me, and will get to see all the things I love about school. And she'll get to visit my sister, who is awesome and already survived raising four teenagers.

My last J-term. It seems impossible! Convocation, RE for a Changing World, and Multifaith Theologies. A mock MFC interview. Worship services galore. And we're in the Loop now - a brand new territory to explore, though I'll miss U of C and Hyde Park, and the Starbucks I walked by almost every day the last two Januarys.

And of course, there's a snow storm hitting Rochester today/tomorrow. I'm hoping that by the time I get through Erie and head toward Cleveland, it will be behind me.

So there's excitement and anxiety. But my reading is mostly done, my class prep is most done, the car is mostly packed, and I'm ready to get my last kidlet snuggles. Thank heavens for Skype.

Writer's Block, Suicide, and Grace

2011-12-30T10:02:00.002-05:00

I would guess that I haven't journaled in my personal journal, or here in my blog for close to six weeks, which might be a record. There was a point of no return in the amount of stress any one person can tolerate, and I hit the wall, hard.

As I've tried to write, everything seems trite, and doesn't seem to do justice to the reality of everyday life - the good, the bad, and the ugly. I write a sentence, and delete it. I write a paragraph, and delete it. Writing is my way of processing the world and of making sense of experience. I have been a writer pretty much my whole life. I am a visual learner, but a verbal processor. The inability to write has been suffocating in ways. I can't write sermons, or papers. I can't write emails or journal. I can barely read the texts I need to read for upcoming classes, and put one whole class on hold.

When I am able to get my head above the water of writer's block for short periods and pound out a few sentences, or make a theological connection in my reading, I start to feel more like myself. I've discovered that the act of trying is as important as doing, even when it's frustrating.

My family has been through a lot this year, but November trumped everything that has come before. I have had my ability to be compassionate and kind and patient be stretched to the absolutely maximum - and at the same time, have been shown those qualities in spades by my beloved community - church, homeschoolers, friends, colleagues.

I thought that losing our home last summer was bad. I thought that the things came after piled on traumas that were hard - although there were gifts of learning and grace that came with each hard time. But right before Thanksgiving, we almost lost our oldest daughter to a suicide attempt. Now that, my friends is bad. Definitely the worst thing that I can imagine. Hard for us, but undeniably harder for her, to be in that space of despair and pain. To watch my child go through the suffering of depression and the medical intervention necessary for her recovery just about broke my heart. It left us all fragile, and even more appreciative of the gifts that we each have.

Why do I speak of such things? Because I must. Because families lose children and teens to suicide at an alarming rate, and it is frightening to speak of it. If you say it out loud, it must be true - and that's terrifying. I am now that mom - the mom whose daughter tried to take her life, and almost succeeded. I am now the mom who is grieving the loss of who she thought her daughter was, and celebrating her courage in fighting to come back from this. And I speak of it, because I've been through suicide attempts before, by my ex-husband, and it's a lonely time - one that frightens other people, and that society lays a film of shame over. This time, I wasn't alone, and I am not ashamed.

My daughter has nothing to be ashamed of. Nobody does. Depression is insidious, and awful and sometimes deadly. It's hard to treat, and not something your friends want to talk about, and it sucks the life out of you and everyone around you when it's deep. She now knows, and has the notes and cards and emails to prove it, that she is valued and loved and celebrated - things that depression made her forget, or wouldn't let her hear in the moment. She has a wall of affirmation above her bed. It makes me smile.

I have also learned that a life of service may be draining at times, but more importantly, it can also be sustaining. It is those moments when I watch a small ministry group have a profound theological experience, or feel the power of words flowing through me in the pulpit, or sitting and listening to a friend or congregant in need of love, not words...those are the moments of grace that fill me up so that I can work on being my best self in difficult situations.

I am a do-er. And I have not been do-ing much the last month - not that you would notice. But I have been. I've been quietly filling myself back up with meals dropped off, with hugs, with small gifts, with listening ears, with vegging out to Netflix, to reading mind candy fiction, to sleeping late and going to bed early. I've been snuggling with my kids, sitting by the fireplace, keeping the house peaceful and clean. I've been watching my kids grow in explosive and exciting and shocking ways, as they become more and more themselves with each day that passes. I've been locking eyes with my husband, feeling a love that sustains both of us and knowing that we're not alone, ever.

So thank you. Thank you to my classmates who are practicing serious radical hospitality this January in Chicago, in so many ways. Thank you to my friends who send me snail mail and email notes of love and encouragement. Thank you to the Lilac Children's Garden and RAHA communities who have brought us meals and provided child care for days on end. Thank you to the family who has surrounded us with their presence and love. Thank you to May Memorial, for trusting me and teaching me how to become a minister. Thank you to First Unitarian of Rochester, whose pastoral care team sat with us for hours, who drove me home to shower, who brought me food and Christmas ornaments. Thank you to the doctors and nurses and techs and aides and chaplaincy staff at Strong Hospital. There is so much gratitude that I hold, and it's this being in community that allows me the space to care for myself and my family. Thank you to all those friends and parents and teachers who love my daughter and have called her and offered support and coffee and friendship. You help to sustain us all.

Yes, it's hard to be transparent about the hard things in life. But it's harder to go around pretending that these things don't happen in life. To me, to you, to the grocer, to great minds and singers and writers and cab drivers. If we hide the painful things, we cannot begin to heal. I know this - I've known it my whole life. But if someone out there is just learning it, I hope they know that there is a world of love and support just outside their door.

So, I know that I could just delete this again. That it doesn't express the depth of pain and love and grace in life. But writing is what I've got. My voice is what I've got. All my gifts and imperfections are what I've got. So here I am, back at it. And it feels like healing.

Thanksgiving Approacheth

2011-11-22T11:59:00.001-05:00

Thanksgiving is upon us! I am thankful for a lighter schedule this week, so I can catch up on some assignments and reading that I have fallen behind on. I am super thankful for my husband, who seems to be everywhere all at once, supporting me, our kids, our home. He's working, he's cooking, he's parenting, he's driving...I don't know how I would manage without him. I love him more every day and it makes me wake up happy every morning to wake up next to him.

I'm grateful for my four children. This is the season of birthdays and reflecting on growth each year. Soren just turned 13. Jude was 7, Lucy and I have birthdays the week of Christmas, and my husband at the end of January.

I'm grateful that this is the first year in my life that I'll have to make a resolution to exercise. My age is finally catch up with me and I can't just float along on the heels of my active younger days!

I'm thankful that we didn't lose any humans or pets in the fire. Everyday, I am struck that life could be so much more tragic than it was last summer. We are really very lucky.

I'm thankful for my church, for my calling, for my teaching congregation. I'm grateful for Wellspring and all my small ministry groups. I'm thankful for thoughtful and amazing colleagues and classmates. I'm grateful for friends who drag me out of my house and make me eat Indian food with them, and spend hours laughing and catching up.

I'm thankful for debit cards and electricity and hot water and furnaces and warm boots and sleds and big hills and ice skates and ponds. I'm thankful for swimming pools and Corona with lime and the hot, hot sun. I'm thankful for my Golden Retriever and flannel sheets and Nine West shoes. I'm grateful for morning snuggles with Lucy and allergy medicine and Advil.

That's just the beginning, but it's a start. It's a chilly day here in NY, but my family is around me, I've got a cheerful fire in the fireplace, snuggling dogs on my feet, and schoolwork plugging along. I've got a wedding to perform this evening and a lovely turkey dinner to look forward to on Thursday.

Thanks to everyone who has been a part of the creation of me.

A week of "firsts"

2011-11-15T10:57:00.001-05:00

Saturday the 19th is the first anniversary of my father's death. I miss him. My children miss him. It is hard to believe it has been a year. I still haven't gone through his belongings, except for his wallet and papers.

Sunday the 20th is my daughter's 13th birthday. Not my first teenager, but Soren's first year as one. She's changing so quickly - emotionally, physically, spiritually, intellectually. It feels like she will be an adult in the blink of an eye. She was my "baby" for six years. And now she's this beautiful young woman, who is going to be taller than her older sister (much to Emma's dismay), in a short time.

Time is short. It goes so quickly. Even in the midst of anxiety, stress, busy-ness with schoolwork (theirs and mine) and the approaching holidays, I find time every day just to reflect on each person in my family and feel gratitude for having them in my life.

The News

2011-11-15T10:17:00.001-05:00

When I read the news this morning, it depressed me. The New York Times is full of things that are negative, as is the Rochester D&C and the Syracuse Post. The Centre Daily Times is a horror show of depressing and aggravating news.

The Penn State scandal is all over the national news, and it seems as if it will continue to worsen. I have been struggling with the firing of Joe Paterno, not because I don't support accountability for his actions, but because of my own grief. He is the same age as my father, and came of age in a time when sexual abuse scandals were often disavowed or swept under the rug, or handled outside of the legal arena. Certainly, Paterno is a part of a wide web of cronyism and deceit. However, the world is not black and white. It actually is relativistic in ways, and the reality of Paterno's affect on the sports world, Penn State, and the State College community, has a wide range of good and bad.

There is no question that he should have done more - he should have - and he is recognizing that now in his statements to the press. It's too little, too late. His complicity does not however, negate the good he has done for the community. And that's where I feel grief for the community and university, whose people have conflicted feelings. Those feelings don't mean that Paterno shouldn't be held accountable - they are just normal feelings of loss and betrayal.

I think about how my own father might have reacted in a similar situation, and my guess is, he would have done what Paterno did - for a lot of reasons, and not because he supported sexual abuse of anyone. Their generation had a different approach to abuse than we do today. Again, I am not in any way excusing Paterno's, or anyone else involved for their moral culpability, but this is one of those "both...and" situations, where a person had made a horrible decision not to act against evil, and they have done a lot of good in their life. At the sunset of his life, Paterno has lost everything - deservedly so.

The victims of these crimes have lost much, much more, and will suffer for many more years. There is nothing, no legal redress, that will eliminate the damage that has been done to them, and for that I grieve as well, much more than for Paterno's losses, which he brought on himself. These victims were innocent children, already at risk, who weren't protected by adults who were supposed to be upholding personal and ethical standards of conduct for themselves, the university, and The Second Mile.

What I think is that there is most often a right way to act, but that our feelings just are. And that's hard ground to cross when people are feeling outrage, betrayal, anger and disgust - as well as loss, grief, and horror. It's like arguments between fundamentalist religious groups - it's almost impossible to reach across that chasm of feeling that your feelings/beliefs are the right ones. But in the case of all those involved in this terrible tragedy, the feelings span a wide range of emotion and experience. The comments in the news articles often reflect these entrenched feelings. I am a pragmatist - I know that people are not always able to validate others' feelings, especially when their own feelings are intense, but the idealist in me always hopes that people will try to see outside of their own experience and walk in another's shoes.

Mostly, I would hope that people would keep the victims in the forefront of their prayers and not be distracted by the machinations of the institutions to keep sweeping that issue out of the way.

2011-11-08T21:56:00.000-05:00

I should really be reading and writing and preparing some stuff for school and work, but I have been in a media blackout due to being so busy, and I'm trying to catch up on organizing my files and bookmarks today. They have gotten wildly out of control in 2.5 years of graduate school. Tomorrow I'll have to tackle my reading and writing.

I have obviously been immersed in the story about Penn State's coverup of alleged sexual abuse by former assistant football coach, Jerry Sandusky. It has me thinking about oppression, about the 99%, about disenfranchised and already-vulnerable children who are taken advantage of by the people who are supposed to be helping them. The story has gone national quickly, and it's spawned some great reminders about abuse-proofing (to some extent) our kids. My oldest daughter and I have been discussing the case - the court documents are graphic and disturbing. The victims' stories are eerily similar.

One has to wonder how so many people, who had to have known or seen the alleged abuse by the perpetrator, could have allowed it to go on. Obviously, that's a rhetorical question, since I know the answer - it has to do with power, and fear. It's the same reason there was such a huge clergy scandal - power differential, fear of retribution or loss of status, and shame.

Talk to your kids, remind them what to look for, and that they can talk to you about anything. If you see something yourself, confront it. Report it.

In other things that I'm concerned about, go Occupy something. Obama told us when we elected him that he wanted us to TELL him how to do his job. Well, go do it.

Penn State and Happy Valley

2011-11-08T15:27:00.001-05:00

I grew up in State College, aka Happy Valley, home to Pennsylvania State University. Most of my life has been spent there, in that beautiful, mountainous region, living a life of Town and Gown, student and Townie, learning how to navigate the chaos of football weekends, when Penn State fans come roaring into town.

I grew up in the heyday of Penn State football -when Joe Paterno and Jerry Sandusky brought the football team to two National Championships in the 1980s. I lived my life in the shadow of these awesome figures. I rode the school bus and attended school with the children of these men - Paterno, Sandusky, Curley. I remember the controversies around hiring Spanier in the mid-90s.

My entire life has been formed in some measure by Penn State, and by football. My high school team was the Little Lions, of course. The boys were expected to dress in dress pants, shirt and tie for away games. We always knew we'd be seeing some team off on the bus when we saw the boys show up, spiffy and clean. We lived in the shadow of the expectation of Joe Paterno.

I remember the days when JoePa would not tolerate any kind of misbehavior (at least any that made the Centre Daily Times) from his football players. They also wore dress slacks and ties, and at least in public, put on a show of high standards of conduct. My generation grew up exceedingly proud to be Penn State, to know the football royal families. I lived up the street from the high school football coach - and I bet his life was even more affected by the omnipresent Penn State. In those days, we packed the high school football stadium. Maybe they still do.

As an adult, I learned to grocery shop on Saturdays during the football game, and didn't miss a play, as it was broadcast in Weis Market, and then Wegman's when they came to town. I learned to drive, knowing that University Park and Park Ave. became one way streams on football Saturdays, and it was best to avoid the area altogether. I enjoyed the raucous energy of Saturdays after a win - the packed bars - Zeno's, the Phyrst, the Shandygaff - filled with young people painted blue and white. Because God must be a Penn State fan, right? Else why would the sky be blue and white?

Even after eight years away from home, I still read the Centre Daily Times every day, and check the football scores. After all, I worked there too, first as an obit writer, and then as an editor of the Weekender. The sports guys were untouchable - they had so much to do, so much to cover. Penn State football covered the front page - even during off-season, to the exclusion of much I thought might be more important. But I didn't push too hard. Football made the world go around in my life there. It brought in the fans, the money, the traffic, the grants for better roads. It brought in students and families and kept the bars hopping.

I remember the roar of the stadium crowds when Paterno beat Bear Bryant's win record I could hear it from 3 miles way in my Lemont driveway. The ground was actually vibrating with the noise and the hundred thousand feet stomping on the bleacher treads. I actually wept that day, in my driveway, on a warm, fall day, much like today.

So you might have an inkling as to how, even though I know that these men charged are innocent until proven guilty, reading the alleged cover-ups, the sickening abuse that Sandusky is accused of, the pointing fingers of Spanier and the administration toward Joe Paterno to take the heat off their own culpability (not that Paterno doesn't have his own in this mess), I feel physically sick.

I am horrified that these idols of my youth, who represented moral conduct, ethics, and good sportsmanship that informed my entire public school and college experience at State High and Penn State, could have such obvious clay feet. I can't imagine how Paterno, as a father of his boys, could know anything and not report it to the police. I can't imagine how Curley and Schultz can live with themselves. and Spanier, well, he should be ashamed for whole-heartedly supporting Curley and Schultz, and for canceling Paterno's press conference today. He should not be allowed to resign, as Curley did - he should be fired, for his own role in covering this up, and for trying to divert attention from himself onto Paterno, an 84 year old man, born the same year as my dad, who probably wonders how his whole world got turned up side down after a lifetime of being the King of Football.

My heart goes out to my former classmates, and I grieve for the loss of their innocence, if they still retained it. It is awful that their lives should be overshadowed by the sins of their fathers. It is heartbreaking that my peers and I have our youthful hopes and memories of great sportsmanship and high standards of conduct, be betrayed in this way.

I will always love Penn State, but it will require a good housecleaning before I begin to trust it again. I send prayers out to the families of the victims, and of those families victimized by their husbands and fathers by lies and sexual abuse. May you find solace in your faith, your heart, your spirt, however you may.

homesickness

2011-10-03T08:07:00.002-04:00

Fall is here. Every time I go outside, I can smell wood smoke - wood stoves are common in upstate NY. I have been so busy trying to get through the last three months, that except for fleeting, intense moments of grief, I haven't faced the loss of our home (or even less so, my wrecked car) in any meaningful, helpful way. But this smell of fall makes me hurt somewhere deep inside, in the same way I hurt for my children when they express their feelings of loss so much more articulately than I have so far.My husband has been at our house, cleaning it out In preparation for putting it on the market, and it is horrible for him. I don't honestly know how he does it. I have only been there two or three times since the fire and I could hardly stand it. Now is the time of year when Tom would be hauling wood from a friend's orchard, splitting it, firing up the chainsaw. The kids would be hauling the split wood in wheelbarrows to one of three areas, and we would be moving the old rocker glider into the laundry room corner as a study space in front of the fire. Emma and I spent last year trying to be the first person to claim this spot each day, piling our books, snacks, and matching slippers next to it, and snuggling up with our laptop and a warm blanket. Whomever lost would sit on the hassock, hunched over their work, but still happy to soak up the warmth and companionship. We talked a lot of philosophy in front of that stove last year. We never used our clothes dryer, because my husband strung line throughout the room and the stove dried everything faster than electric with the added benefit of the damp clothes and towels adding moisture to the dry air of winter. The wood stove was central in our lives. It was a symbol of less reliance on technology, kept us mindful of the work that goes into staying warm, kept us closer physically in the cold weather, provided exercise for everyone, and reduced our heating payments to nothing. It was time consuming, messy, sometimes inconvenient. But the choice to heat with wood, to live in the country, to create and maintain a huge vegetable garden, to can apples and pears from our trees, to dry our clothes with the sun and the wood stove - these are choices that are taken away from us. Yes, I miss my bed. I miss seeing the deer in our field each morning. I miss walking my dog and practicing tonglen as I consider each neighbor's house I walk by. My children's losses break my heart. They miss their swing set that Tom built by hand. They miss picking apples and getting fresh eggs from our two chickens each day(not so much cleaning out the coop!).t. They miss our next door neighbors Mark and Rose(me too). There is no closure. No way to fix this loss, for any of us. We are transported to a new life where you turn on the heat and there is no work to it. To a life where it is against association rules to hang clothes out. To a life where I buy eggs at a Wegman's where I can't find the peanut butter aisle.Don't get me wrong. I'm grateful we are alive, and for insurance and for the net of love and community that has held us throughout. But the smell of fall - it makes me homesick in a way I haven't been ready to face just yet. It feels lime a long time until we will "be home" again.

Dreams of the Dead

2011-10-02T17:28:00.000-04:00

My father died right before Thanksgiving last year. I have been dreaming of him regularly since then. I sometimes wonder (not a theological question) if his presence beyond the physical realm is more powerful now than when he was fettered by his dementia.

The other night I had a vivid dream that I was in the hospital giving birth and it was footling breech. Alan Alda was my doctor (the older incarnation of Alan; he wasn't in uniform a la M*A*S*H!). Anyway, all these people from my family were there outside my room, sitting around eating cookies and drinking coffee. There were living members (like my mom and sister), and departed, like my dad and my two brothers, Craig and Randy. My uncles Barry and Wayne were there too. It was a veritable Spahr family reunion of men.

I specifically remember that in the dream, Randy got up and helped me into a more comfortable chair. And also, that my husband was already talking about having another baby, which I think might have made me dreamily murderous in the moment.

I've had so many intense and easily remembered dreams since the fire in June. Many of them include my dad. It's nice to feel that he's close, even if it's only in a dream state.

Covenant

2011-09-29T08:53:00.000-04:00

I haven't blogged much lately. It got instantly crazy on Labor Day, with internship, work, and classes. I have been reading blogs though, and lots of books and writing a lot and trying to balance all of that with family time, which only is successful because my husband is amazing.

My 7 year old, Jude and I had an interesting discussion about why he thinks God is male. I went to pick him up at class last week and from the top of the slide, he said, "Leave me in peace. I am God! And I'm trying to figure out how to execute those people over there." I remarked that he must be an Old Testament kind of God. But I guess he's just trying to use play to reclaim some of the powerless he feels since losing our house. That's the theme for him lately - powerlessness. He mostly exhibits his grabs for power at bedtime, which he refuses to acknowledge exists. A child's cosmology can be fascinating and a microcosm of our own adult need to make sense of the world.

I have been gripped by a fascination with the cultural/sociological aspects of polity, theology, individualism, and creativity. I'm hoping to turn it into a sermon for the Thanksgiving service at MMUUS, which is intergenerational. I have been mulling over a Sharon Welch essay, Return to Laughter, I read for my Leadership Studies class. I am boring everyone I know by talking about it constantly, and using it to more deeply explore the issues above. This seems fair to me, as my 15 year old is doing the same thing to me regarding her honors physics class and Newton's Universal Law of Gravity. I told her that I don't really care much about it, as long as it continues to function and I don't go flying off the face of the earth.

I'm facilitating four small groups this year, which is one of the things I love about ministry. I'm gearing up to get back into action on the lay pastoral care team at First Unitarian, and put in my first fall shift on the Connect & Breathe post-abortion talk line.

Our move back to Rochester has been good for me in the sense that it theoretically gives me more time and less of a commute most days (except when I drive to Syracuse) but it also means that the kids ask to do more stuff. I'm really enjoying watching them grow and change and evolve, despite some of the challenges.

Well, the hordes are awake and talking at me, so it's time to start the day now that I'm caffeinated. I'm going to try to get back here more regularly. I have recently found, through doing a ton of weddings, that people actually look me up and read my newsletter articles and blog posts to see if my theology and style are a good fit for them. Fascinating stuff - I've joined some UU Facebook groups on social media, evangelizing, etc. so this is another great interest of mine.

OK, enough or I'll be off on that next!

These last sweet days of summer

2011-08-19T09:49:00.000-04:00

They are winding down and each day is bittersweet. Today is a perfect example. 83F, sunny and clear. But what to do? We have an appointment at 2pm, smack dab in the middle of the day. It seems like such an effort to get out and do something, if only to be interrupted by the call of obligation.

We met a couple of neighbors out walking their dogs yesterday. They were friendly, but it made me realize that I feel like this rental house is just a bigger, nicer, extended hotel stay. I know we won't be in this neighborhood through the winter. We won't spend another summer here. We won't see what flowers appear in the spring, or see the whole flow of a year pass us by. It is difficult to remain in the present moment here; to commit to even liking it, let alone loving it.

In chaplaincy, I learned to try to stay in the present moment with people. Not to obsess about the future - to allow a contextual discussion of what brought people to where they were, and then to focus on how are things now, how are you feeling in the here and now.

This is a difficult practice, but my feeble attempts at maintaining it seem to be the best coping skill I own for dealing with insurance companies, car purchases, rental houses, selling our home, preparing for the MFC and for my last year of seminary.

Adding 4 children to the mix, who are in their last days of summer vacation, who don't have their "stuff" and toys and books and knick knacks; who complain about the cereal I forgot to buy at the store, and yet who snuggle on my lap and practice reading while I peruse Amazon.com - they are both hugely present...and hugely distracting. If my priority is to be present in thinking about closing words for the board retreat, or in crafting a grocery list that will dispel the complaints about the larder, but their present priority is the complaint itself, or that they can't reach the toilet paper, or that they want to show me the unicorn that they have drawn so beautifully... our "being in the present" modalities are sure to clash. What would Buddha say?

Ahh, the spiritual and theological conundrums of the student/working mother. The very crux of combining *anything* with parenting any age child, let alone a range of ages, is that being in the moment is like the worst ADHD experience ever sometimes, and sometimes all you can do is give yourself over to it, and laugh. There is that an intense moment of joy in giving up any pretension of being in my own moment.

I Breathe in Peace

2011-08-02T19:11:00.000-04:00

I went to see my massage therapist today. I am very particular about massage therapists. There is a sacred trust about allowing someone to work intimately with one's body. She starts her sessions off with a short intention meditation, which I find helpful to use throughout the session.

When I do my walking meditation, my transition points mantra is "When I breathe in, I breathe in peace; when I breathe out, I breathe out love." This is an intention for myself and for what I give back to the universe. Today, during my massage I used "I breathe in trust, I breathe out fear."

I was hesitant about breathing fear out into the universe, but the massage room seems a rather safe and purposeful place to do such a thing. It requires a great deal of trust for me to relax my limbs into another's hands. To breathe into pain and pleasure, to have the courage to ask for what I need, and to communicate clearly about where I need the most work done.

I think this is good practice for the rest of life. My minister asked me what I most need, as I attempt to enter into my third and final year of seminary and internship. She warned me about maintaining my boundaries and seeking support from the appropriate venues. I have already thought about that a lot and am grateful that the major difficulties of the last year have occurred over my summer break. It has allowed my internship congregation to be concerned about me, but sheltered them from too much of a desire and chance of caring for me. Congregations are caring places, and they want to take care of people. But in a ministerial role, it is our job to care for them, and to seek our support, within reason, from outside resources - colleagues, friends, family, therapists, etc.

I have a lot of anxiety about being away from my children, and they from me. But now that we are living close to my husband's work, he will always be a short drive away. I am thinking of ways I can have longer days, make better use of my time in Rochester doing pastoral care and volunteering for Connect & Breathe, and am anxious to look over my curriculum for the year and what sorts of projects I will be doing.

Getting back into the work of ministry will be good - it will balance the stressors of day to day life - and I *am* being well taken care of, which allows me to provide the kind of ministry a congregation should expect from its intern. I am excited to perform a wedding this weekend and one in October. I look forward to getting back into the workings of the church, the meetings, the small groups, the worship services. I have missed those things as I've dealt with the minutae of crisis.

Besides, who doesn't know that being a stay-at-home-mom is the hardest job of all?! It will be a break to do other work :)

A step at a time

2011-07-26T16:53:00.000-04:00

There is much left to do in this day - trips to Target for bedding and pet supplies, calling doctors, dealing with insurance, thinking about school and internship starting in the fall...but there have been moments of mindfulness. I am enjoying the view out the large dining room windows, of the huge patch of coneflowers with happy bees buzzing among them. The dogs are running from window to window in each room, watching a parade of dog walkers outside, who are caring for their pets after a day of work. There was a quick game of pool in the basement (yes, we have a pool table!), and a stroll to our new mailbox with Lucy. there was a long morning walk with Jakob - my first walking meditation in weeks and weeks. It was heavenly!

We now have bookshelves and dressers. Clothes are being washed and tucked away. The kitchen is looking better all the time. The children are enjoying playing in the living room and the enormous back yard. It will be fun to have a trampoline and bikes again soon!

I have many tasks ahead of me, but there are friends who are also struggling, and doing it with grace and love. I have been working hard on encouraging quiet voices, taking turns, caring for each other and ourselves, and turning this house into a physical and emotional safe haven. It is difficult work - we are anxious and overtired and in pain. But I know it will be worth it - for each individual, for our family, for our life's work that must soon resume.

Summer Camp from Hell

2011-07-15T10:02:00.000-04:00

At least that's what my 12-year-old says this summer is ;). But we're in my home town, and usually I'm itching to get home, except this time, I don't have a home, so there is this free feeling of just enjoying the time here, and not rushing to do everything, because there is no rush, because there is no home to go back to (although I do miss my husband something fierce).

There is a huge Arts Festival here every year and as a teen, it was the week of freedom. It was a time to ride my bike around, have extended curfews, see lots of friends, hang out on The Wall, eat junk food, walk barefoot in the rain, and enjoy all the benefits and privileges of adolescence. I have set my own teenager free this summer, but oddly enough, she is staying close.

Trauma has made us realize the importance of each other. Of the thin thread of life that holds us together as a family and the strong love that we have for each other. Normally my kids would want to be off visiting friends and running around, and learning to take the bus, and walking miles and miles in their flip flops, but this summer, they are comfortingly nearby.

One of the reasons I came to Arts Fest this year is that I lost some things in the fire that I bought from artists over the years. Some of those artists aren't here this year, and I no longer have their business cards, which is sad. But one thing I wanted to replace was my photograph of two Yemeni girls that I bought a few years ago.

So I wanted to send a shout out to Jim Spillane, who takes these photos. Go see his booth. I also took a card from Marius Moore. I told him I want one of his photos when I have my own office when I'm a minister. He was a super cool guy, and even knew about Unitarian Universalism.

I've also been drooling over this woman's jewelry for years and found that she actually carries small bracelets, which are hard for me to find. The lotus flower means enlightenment - and this woman's jewelry is what was the inspiration for the tattoo I designed that I have yet to have done; a lotus mandala with a contemporary UU chalice in the center.

The thing I really wanted to replace was my beautiful wrap that I bought two years ago, but alas, the woman who makes them doesn't seem to be here this year. I did see some beautiful scarves/stoles that I may purchase tomorrow though, since I lost all of those too.

But really the best part of all this is just meandering through town, eating at Irving's Bagels, seeing the sights, visiting with friends and family, and having my children with me and moving at their pace. It's good to move at a child's pace - sometimes frenetic, sometimes slow and laborious. The basics become vitally important - food, rest, hugs, and being in touch with each other's emotions.

Ups and Downs

2011-07-11T19:59:00.000-04:00

A friend of mine said that recovering from a fire/flood is like being pecked to death by ducks. I found it an apt metaphor!

I got back to work today for the first time since the fire really. The drive made me very anxious. The further I got from the kids, the worse it got. But It felt SO good once I got to church. I met with a couple who I am marrying on 8/6. It was an awesome meeting - they were so incredible and we had such a great rapport. It is going to be a beautiful ceremony, filled with happy tears and excitement about NY allowing gay marriage. I am fist-pumping psyched.

On the way home, I stopped in Lyons to get some prescriptions from our regular pharmacy and had to stop at the house to grab a stroller from the garage. Oh, the heartbreak. I was just devastated by my peek in the downstairs. I grabbed a box of Emma's baby paraphenelia, because I didn't want it to get thrown out by mistake. There is a huge dumpster full of stuff in front of the garage. My garden is tooling along with just nature's rain to water it - there were healthy snow peas growing, and lettuce, and raspberries, and pumpkins flowering...but I couldn't bear to pick any of it. I just started crying. All the kids' swings and bikes and trampoline and yard toys - it just broke my heart to see everything so forlorn. I am so, so homesick for our sanctuary from the world.

As I was driving, I felt so unable to trust the world around me. I have always been a good defensive driver, but find myself more suspicious than ever of large semis and fast drivers in sports cars. I fear for the motorcyclists in a brand new way, especially after the number of traumas I saw in the ED during CPE last summer.

I feel better to be back in the hotel, oddly enough. We have a lease being worked up, but found out today that the move in date has been pushed back another four days, and there is some confusion about the cable/phone/internet account at the house. I told the placement rep that her motto should be "We protect you from the crazy!" Seriously, I love her.

My 12 year old is feeling somewhat better a week post-op. She's off the narcotics today and says she's ready to boogie to our hometown tomorrow for the big Arts Festival. Me too!

I bought a new purse yesterday that I love. I replaced my fave pair of boots today. It's the little things actually. The convenience items - my calendula cream, my armband for jogging with my iPod, my junky headphones I kept in my nightstand drawer. My nightstand! Silly, but yes, like being pecked to death by ducks. I had a moment today where I didn't even want to move into the rental - it felt like giving up on our dream of space and chickens and old houses and rural life.

But we also found out today that the house is riddled with lead paint and asbestos. So any cleanup is going to be that much more expensive and harder.

I want to run away to the DE seashore. i want to walk on the boardwalk and smell the salt air. I want to drive to Assateague and see the wild ponies. I want to take Jude to Frontier Town in Ocean City, MD. I want to body surf in the brutal waves and let nature have her way with me a bit more. I want to be back in the womb of man - the sea. Maybe I can make it happen before fall. It would be so restorative.

Snapping back

2011-07-07T22:35:00.000-04:00

I've been feeling a bit otherwordly since the fire; not myself. Not focused or able to figure out what next.

Then on Sunday, my 12 year old fell out of a tree and broke her arm, requiring surgery and a 2-3 day hospital stay. Two nights of NO sleep, followed by 2 nights of solid sleep seem to have snapped me back into my body finally.

There's something sad and funny about a child who cannot open jello by herself. Vicodin makes her have a mental functioning delay of about 10 seconds too. Poor chook. She has been in so much pain; it's a relief to have her be even a little silly.

My youngest two are feeling the trauma of being displaced from our home. They are desperately homesick, and tired of sleeping on a pull out couch in the living room of our hotel suite. Lucy cried herself to sleep tonight, missing her bed :(.

I am looking at two rental houses tomorrow, and am hopeful that one of them will be a match. There's a third I am waiting to schedule that is a block from our home church, so that would be wonderful too!

I seem to be unable to think about seminary or church much at all, though I have sudden spurts of inspiration and functionality. So I take the kids to the hotel pool a lot and read junk fiction. I think I'm due.

I am eternally grateful for the monetary donations that have allowed my husband to be off work so much, to deal with the insurance and watch our other kids while our 12 year old was in the hospital. I am grateful for friends who watch my kids, who bring me food, who brought me toothpaste and a sweater in the ER. I am grateful for the calls, emails, prayers. I cannot even express it all. You all know who you are.

Namaste.

Two weeks

2011-06-28T18:16:00.000-04:00

It's been two weeks since our house caught on fire. I don't think I have ever been so tired, for so long, in my life. I just can't seem to get a decent night's sleep, either because of children climbing into bed with my husband and I, or waking every hour, or the temperature, or just insomnia.

Yesterday was a rough day. We were all irritable and tired. But Lucy has taken a nap the last two days and seems to be in a better mood, so today was much better. The mood of the youngest seems to set the tone for the day round these parts. We spent a long time at the pool yesterday, and today we went for a while. Jude had his semi-annual allergy appointment and had his highest ever scores for breathing. That means that his medication regimen is working - we tweaked it in early June when the cottonwood was flying and he wasn't sleeping. We're adding Zantac back in, as he's been complaining of heartburn. Who could blame him, really?

I postponed my July intensives at Meadville Lombard until January. It will make for a crazier fall semester, but my family needs me here this summer. I'm having a lot of sorrow around being away from my home and yard during the summer months. I was in CPE last summer, so I had a lot of plans for lounging around, reading, and gardening. The kids miss the swing set, sandbox, bikes and trampoline.

I printed out my UU History and Polity readings and am going to start those, as well as my MFC competencies when I can find time. It's hard to find quiet time in the hotel suite.

I want to give a shout-out to ESL Savings and Loan, my bank. The teller at the drive-thru WALKED two packs of quarters out to my car because I had a sleeping child in my car and they are too heavy for the pneumatic tube. I couldn't believe it! They always provide excellent customer service, but this is beyond the pale!

Tomorrow, my MIL and my niece and her two kids are coming over to swim. I hope the weather is warmer than it's predicting. This weekend we're headed to Keuka Lake for the holiday weekend, and then the following week, home to PA for Arts Festival. I can't wait. We're taking the dogs with us this weekend too, which will be wonderful. I miss our cat and bunny too...

No progress on a rental house, though I'm now helping to search for options. We've got to get a yard!

Sanctuary

2011-06-26T20:09:00.000-04:00

Trying to normalize life as much as possible while displaced is daunting. But one small thing I'm grateful for is Google Sync. I was able to restore all my favorite places, Chrome settings, etc. in one fell swoop! I finally broke down and ordered restore disks from Mozy.com, as the slow wireless connection at the hotel doesn't allow for downloading 54 1.3G files. And since I don't have a cable modem here, I temporarily made my cell phone a hot spot - and it's pretty darn fast! Technology I am grateful for :).

This morning, the kids and I went to church. It is the one place that still feels like home. Sitting in the back of the sanctuary, listening to Poetry Sunday; meeting outside under the Standing on the Side of Love sign, showing our support for gay marriage. It was fabulous. Hugs by friends, sympathy and soul food. I miss my internship church work, but it is good to have the time to reconnect with my home church.

Then I went out and bought pillows and a new down comforter. I hate down pillows, which is what they have at the hotel, and with my neck problems, it will be lovely to have normal pillows. I love the new down comforter and duvet - they are so pretty and will smell like us, not like hotel laundry. Really, the little things matter.

Tom did laundry tonight, which was a gift. We don't have a lot of clothes so it doesn't take too long, and it's nice!

I'm looking forward to having my dogs back. I miss my morning walks and meditation. It's hard to meditate with six people in a small space. The pool doesn't open till 10, so I can't swim early, though they probably wouldn't care. They have been super nice to us. Emma apparently has carte blanche at the pool but I credit the bikini ;).

Dreams of Disaster

2011-06-23T09:37:00.000-04:00

I've been having nightmares. As if the reality isn't enough - Jude's been at the ER for an exploding glowstick to the eyes, and Lucy fell in the hotel pool the other day. I follow her around in my dreams, protecting her from a myriad of disasters - water, vehicle, you name it. Jude is always in the background - there, but generally safe and a source of info. I must trust the girls to take care of themselves, as they don't figure in these dreams.

Lucy and Jude have been coming into our bed every night. It's hard to sleep in the hotel - our room is a loft, so unless we turn all the lights out and stop talking at 8:30pm, the littles have a hard time getting to sleep on the sofabed in the living room. I don't want to ask the girls to switch out of their bedroom, as they need their privacy at 15 and 12.5.

I am supposed to be able to start looking at rental houses over the next week. It will be good to be more settled, though our hotel is in a great and convenient location to shopping and friends. Today we're going to visit our dogs, which will be great. I really need a puppy fix.

Tom has been out at the house every day, meeting with inspectors, auditors, restoration and laundry companies. He is a saint. Today, he is meeting with an environmental company, who are checking for asbestos and lead paint; I assume, because the house is 19th century vintage.

It is intriguing to me how we can stretch the rubber band self just so far, and then, for me, I need to create safe haven - what is known and beloved. Making the hotel as much like our house as possible has been a source of calm in the storm for the kids and I. Even doing laundry and folding it is soothing. The regular routine of our days is shattered, but I'm trying to restore it - it seems like a biological need.

I've been able to reschedule my Meadville classes for January so I can stay here next month. It won't impact my graduation in May; just require travel in January and March. We all need to be together. I have a visceral reaction to being away from my children right now. I see it for what it is, but it doesn't make it any easier to deal with. My Wellspring group had its last meeting yesterday. It was fabulous. What an amazing group of people and I'm so excited that they are going to continue on in Wellspring 2 next year! I am thrilled to be able to grow and learn from them for another year. That is the joy of a 2 year part-time internship - the opportunity to have a deep relationship with the congregation and the staff.

In any event, rain is forecast today and the kids are stir crazy. We're going to make some returns, hit the library, visit the dogs and go to a museum. It's kind of nice to be in Mom-Mode for the next month or so. Maybe I'll even get a pool-side tan ;).

Continued blessings on all who have emailed notes, money, support, and brought meals. We are so grateful and feel so lucky to have an amazing community, both locally and across the world.

What a Fire Teaches Me

2011-06-19T07:27:00.000-04:00

1. Everytime I look at my children, I get tearful, and am filled with gratitude that they are all safe. Keep tissues with me at all times.

2. Neighbors are the salt of the earth. One that I barely know rode up on his John Deere tractor the day of the fire and handed me a check for $100. He wouldn't take no for an answer. Our next door neighbor took in the kids, fed them pizza, cared for our cat, and called her niece to bring us clothes. Said niece dropped them off at the hotel the day of the fire and if it wasn't for her, I wouldn't have had a shirt on my back the next day.

3. I love my dog even more than I knew. He's being loved to death by a dear friend and her sons, who were thinking about getting a dog. It's a good trial run for them. But I just made coffee for the first time since the fire, and the habit of grabbing his leash, rubbing his silky Golden ears, and watching him hop up and down is sorely missed.

4. Speaking of coffee, I am ever more grateful for Starbucks and a coffee pot of my own. Hotel coffee is...sustaining, but not very good.

5. Losing all your clothes allows you to redefine your wardrobe, but it takes time. I don't have much in the way of ministry clothes yet, and when I got dressed to perform a wedding yesterday, found myself digging through my daughter's clothes, and borrowing her size 8 (children's!) Justice tank top to wear under my blouse. I do wish I liked to shop more. Shoe shopping itself is enough to make me want to scream.

Shopping for essential clothes with my 15 and 12 year old yesterday almost killed me. A whirlwind tour through DSW, Marshalls, Plato's Closet, and Target = sore feet, sore back and happy girls. I am also now shod with new sneakers. I still like to bargain shop though! Plato's Closet was a definite WIN.

6. Children are resilient, but only to a point. So are adults. I'm looking forward to church and an afternoon by the hotel pool, catching up on work. And yes, the wireless at the hotel is finally fixed! It will be good to catch up on work and setup my new laptop. I missed my media!

7. Love my iPhone. Couldn't have survived without it.

8. Don't shop at WalMart. They don't care if you have no underwear and will not help you out in a pinch when your new checks won't be read by their cash register.

9. Do shop at Anne Taylor Loft Outlet in Waterloo. My checks wouldn't clear there, but they called the bank, and figured out how to use my Red Cross debit card so I could buy clothes to perform above mentioned wedding. They also secretly took 40% off of my total order.

10. Mariott also gets a huge round of applause. They didn't have rooms available for us to stay consecutively, but the hotel manager moved other people around to accommodate us in our suite until semi-permanent housing can be found. Julio is my new bff.

11. Traveler's Insurance also - well, I just want to kiss them. You know that State Farm commercial where the insurance agent magically appears after an accident? Well, that should be Traveler's commercial. Chad was there within 2 hours. He referred us to Mike, who called us, texted us, emailed us, dealt with the hotels within 6 hours of the fire. 72 hours later, we were hooked up with Rich, our large claims agent, who explained everything in minute detail, over and over, and is awesome. They are covering everything in the house, plus the reconstruction (or whatever happens). They are helping us get everything laundered to try to salvage the kids' clothes, have a cleaning company coming in to take everything out, and a placement agency negotiating a rental. Looks like we'll be out of the house for at least six months. They are also reimbursing the Red Cross for our hotel stay and grocery/clothing money. The agent said, "You have insurance. Other people don't. We want the Red Cross to be able to take care of those other people."

12. I really am not attached to material things. That doesn't mean I don't burst into tears when I realize I don't have a hairbrush when I get out of the shower. I also miss my bed. And it's not coming back, people. It's a charred mess on my back lawn. I also miss my awesome Born boots that I got in Chicago at J-term this year.

12a. Just because I am OK with losing my stuff doesn't mean my kids are. iPods have been replaced, sparkly shoes have been bought. Making things as normal as possible is vital for the kids and even me. It was a huge relief to climb into the shower on Thursday and have my brand of body soap, shampoo, shaving cream, deoderant, etc.

13. I have the best friends and church(es) in the world. My best friend has watched my kids. The church has given us money. Our friends and even people I don't know have donated to PayPal. I am so grateful to each and everyone of you. It has allowed us to get groceries so we can eat our normal food and accommodate the kids' dietary needs. It has allowed us to buy undies and shoes, to replace my laptop, to feel some modicum of safety net.

14. If you already have tickets to an amusement park when your house burns down, GO. We went to Seabreeze with our homeschool friends on Friday and it was definitely what we needed! It was wonderful to go on rides, eat junk food and see my kids smile. And I laughed when I climbed to the top of the water slide with Jude and a little boy assured me that "it is perfectly safe." I thought, "now this is a child who has never been through a fire. Nothing feels perfectly safe and isn't it odd that we're here doing some "safe" thrillseeking!"

A friend brought lettuce out of her garden for our salad, and another brought pasta and sauce and lettuce for our dinner that night. It was twice as delicious because it was given with love.

This is the first I've had Internet since Tuesday. We're headed off to church for my oldest daughter Emma to sign the membership book and become a new member of First Unitarian of Rochester today. A landmark day for sure :).

I have much to be grateful for is the biggest learning. I was already grateful; I just didn't know how much.

Namaste.

Fire and Gratitude

2011-06-14T23:59:00.000-04:00

I am on a bad keyboard, but a quick note. Our house caught on fire today in the basement from an electrical issue. We are all safe, humans and pets. We are so grateful to our neighbors, Lauren Sample, Liza Artman, Mark and Rose Bowler, the Lyons police dept., fire dept. ambulance, chaplain, the Red Cross, Steve/Crow, the Dickasons, for hauling stuff, doing laundry, taking pets, etc. We are so, so humbled and grateful for the support on a Facebook group, the offers of help. We can't even believe the love we have received.

I had just run to WalMart for dish soap. I cannot thank my daughter, Emma, for getting the other 5 kids and the dogs and cat out safely. Emma deserves a medal. All 7 kids have been amazing - we have friend and his 3 kids with us too.

Mean Girls

2011-05-18T00:08:00.000-04:00

So, I am all annoyed and feminista on the asses of girls who call their friends "whores" or "dressing promiscuously," or maybe they are just really "asking for it?" I mean really. I must be getting old, because I'm really starting to identify with those women who get pissed at my generation for not being feminist enough. Raising teenage daughters has me convinced, OK? Women are still getting the short end of the stick - but too often, from each other.

What is up with girls participating in this crazymaking behavior? Why are women of any age, who are comfortable with their sexuality, a threat? Why does it make other women crazy? Why do men feel they have to stomp out this behavior (unless it benefits them?) OK, I know I'm making some generalizations here. I apologize. But it seems to me as if society is moving awfully slowly in treating women as equals, and as more than their body parts, or their assumed sexuality, or sexual behavior (often incorrectly assumed, btw).

And why is it that women are uncomfortable confronting this behavior?

Yes, I have become a raging feminist. Sue me.

Spring cleaning

2011-05-16T18:42:00.000-04:00

The semester is over. I'm on reduced hours at internship till mid-June. The kids have two more weeks of classes, and then things will really ease up. Today was the first day I was home in weeks, really. I had hoped to enlist all 4 kids to help with massive spring cleaning, but it was raining and cold, and the oldest two came down with a stomach bug last night, poor chooks.

So, I decided to dig in without them and started in my room. No laundry got put away or washed today, but my carpet is ripped out, furniture moved, walls washed down, floors vacuumed, my bathroom clean and baseboards scrubbed...some minor vacuuming and cleaning in the dining room and kitchen, but much more to come. I am so in love with my new-ish Kenmore canister vac!

I have also been cleansing my palate from classes. I got an A- in my Christian History class, and a Pass in Congregational Studies (I am assuming ). I started doing some reading for July's Religious Ed class, which I'm really enjoying, but have been so busy with kid stuff at the end of the "school" year that I have barely had time to breathe! I would really like to spend a week vegging out to some TV episodes I've missed, but I'm anxious to get my house in order again - getting out warm weather clothes, giving away what's outgrown, and cleaning every last corner.

I've been thinking a lot about my dad and my brother. I was so overwhelmed when he died, with my dad's service, the cat getting hit and dying, and the basement flooding (and the truck dying...and issues with my ex)...that I am just now spring cleaning my heart. I didn't even send flowers to the funeral, I was so befuddled. Totally unlike me. I owe my SIL a call soon. I have been thinking about how losing my brother was in many ways like losing one of the few links I have left to my father. It was hard for me to bury my dad's ashes. I found some comfort in having them in my house. I have a small urn, but it's not the same. I still have his clothes and things to unpack this summer; Jude in particular is looking for a green and white polo shirt of my dad's that he wants and remembers.

All of these steps are ways to simplify the process of loss. I let go a little more each time I am able to grieve and cry. Each time I give away some clothing, or find a photo and enjoy it. And because my father had dementia, I feel that he is more present for me now, than he was in his last year. I am finding it harder to find ways to grieve my brother. I didn't know him as well as I might have liked, and really just started connecting with him the last 18 months. He was clearly a kind man, who seemed to really love children. He was extremely kind to my kids when we had lunch after my dad's service. I feel such sorrow for his teens, who must miss him dreadfully. I wish I knew them better too, so that we could more easily lean on one another in this time. And stupidly, I miss the damn cat. He was a big, fat, bossy thing, but I miss him plopping down on me, putting the pug in her place, and waiting in the sink for me to turn on the faucet.

All of these griefs have forgiveness in common. My father was human and left hurts behind him. My brother and I never resolved many things we wanted to talk about. The person who hit our cat leaves behind outrage. So, I was so grateful to be able to attend the Coming of Age/Wellspring service at my internship congregation yesterday, and to hear how members of my group had been touched by the work we did on Forgiveness. It was a moment of grace that I know I needed in my life. I have learned so much from the wise people in Wellspring this year. I can't wait to see what the future holds for all of us.

An Eye for An Eye

2011-05-02T13:27:00.000-04:00

I awoke this morning to the news that Osama Bin Laden had been killed and buried at sea. I was disheartened to hear that President Obama had ordered that he be killed and not captured. I was also extremely disappointed to see Americans celebrating his death. So much for due process - that is what we stand for, and regardless of bin Laden's crimes, we stand on a Constitution that supports that due process. Look at the mess we still have with Guantanomo.

Americans were horrified at reaction to 9/11. How are we doing any better? This is not great behavior, regardless of one's nationality or religion.

I was also disappointed to hear NPR correspondent Margot Adler joining in the whoops of joy in her broadcast from Times Square this morning. Totally unprofessional for a journalist, and not, IMO, a very good representation of Pagan/UU ethics. I can't find the link right now, but will post it later.

Do I understand people's joy at his death, after so many of our own and others around the world have been murdered by his terrorism? Of course I empathize with it. But I don't think that assassination is something we really want to condone as a nation. I'm going to go out on a limb and say that singing the National Anthem and chanting USA! USA! is probably not a good representation of ourselves as a country, given the situation in the Middle East, and our involvement in Iraq and Afghanistan, which is often viewed as imperialistic and imposing westernization on the world. We are viewed as a Christian nation by many in the US, as well as outside our borders. It is concerning to me that this reinforces the negative view of Christianity and of our government to those who are fundamentalist Muslims, such as Al Quaeda, and to those who have suffered at the hands of our soldiers over the last 10 years (intentionally or collaterally).

Gratitudes of life

2011-04-28T10:44:00.000-04:00

I just wanted to send out a note thanking everyone who has so lovingly held my family in their prayers. I intentionally went into "turtle mode" yesterday, so if I have not responded to a call, message, or text, it is not personal; I am taking some time to process and take care of myself and my immediate family in the midst of some of life's challenges.

I am grateful for the hardworking and loving veterinary clinic staff who did their best to save our kitty, Max and who were extremely kind to us when it became clear he wasn't going to make it.

I am grateful for my home congregation, who has lifted my volunteer work from my shoulders for a few weeks while we get our feet under us again.

I am grateful for my Meadville Lombard classmates and faculty, who have been so patient and kind this year. I have a lot to "pay forward" in the coming year!

I am grateful to my kids, who have been supportive and patient with two of us being in college, and helping to make sure our house runs relatively smoothly, even in the midst of loss and feeling embattled at times, I'm sure!

I am especially grateful to my husband, who has dredged out the flooded basement, been a rock during the loss of my father and two brothers this year, and who always puts on his bravest face, even when he's tired.

I am grateful for both of my church communities - I love you all, and am moving through this year with as much patience and grace as I can muster, mostly due to the spoken and unspoken love and support from my home congregation and my teaching congregation. I cannot even believe how full my life is of wonderful, wonderful people.

I am grateful to get a chance to get to know more of my father's family, even though the reasons for that chance come out of death and grief.

I am grateful for warm spring weather, even though the rains have conspired against us and our belongings. It feels so good to have the sun on my face, and to walk the dog without layers of clothes, a hat, and mittens. It is healing to get outside and watch the trees burst into life again.

I am grateful for my teaching minister, Jean sharing the book "Great Occasions" with me. I end with a quote from Paul N. Carnes:

Inevitably our anguish frames the question "Why?" if not on our lips, in our hearts. There is no answer that removes this question - no answer that can bridge the chasm of irreparable separation. Life will never be the same, and this is as it should be, for our loved ones are not expendable.

We can meet such loss only with our grief, that uncontrived mixture of courage, affirmation, and inconsolable desolation. Grief is enough; for, in our grief we live an answer, as in the depths love and selfishness conjoin until, if we allow it, love asserts its dominance, and we become more aware of the community of living of which life makes us a part.

Writing as spiritual practice

2011-03-28T21:00:00.000-04:00

Ha! I kill myself. Last January I said I was going to try to write everyday. And I do. I write Facebook posts, and papers, and replies to papers, and emails and sermons. But I don't write the things that are in my head, because I just don't have time.

I don't write about Japan and the earthquake and tsunami. I don't write about nuclear reactors and radiation leaking into the ocean. I don't write about how raising a teenage daughter is exhausting and eerily parallel to reliving one's own adolescence, except this time you don't get to have the fun of being devious and naughty before you get caught - you just get to be the bad guy.

I don't write about dealing with a child with ADHD or the way I feel about the school system (not good, if you don't already know). I don't write about my feelings on class warfare and immigration, or about being divorced and trying to co-parent effectively. I don't write about gender issues and being a woman in ministry.

I don't write (much) about being in the sandwich generation and what it means to have aging parents and to lose one. I don't write about my crazy dog who won't be housebroken and who chews up my theology books.

But these are just the tip of the iceberg of the things I'd write about if I only had time. I dream about them though. Last night I dreamt a whole sermon about "Being Heard," based purely on anecdotes about my teenager daughter and my dog.

But it's OK. This too shall pass. I love internship and ministry and school (though I swear I'm never taking another class from the Lutherans!). I just have so many things I think about and no time to write about, but they come out in sermons and essays and reflections and...just not here.

Ah, I feel better now :) I'm looking forward to August when I plan to reread every Stephen King book I own and go to the beach. Then I"ll write. Maybe.

The Timeline of Grief

2011-03-22T23:06:00.000-04:00

I'm feeling particularly raw lately. That "bubble" I developed during chaplaincy seems to be intact during minstry work itself, but in my personal life, it seems to have popped like so much warm air.

A friend was discussing the first spring of being without her father, and that made me cry. Earlier, I was with a dear friend/teacher, who lost her her mother last week and she told me of the large hole it has created in her life, and I found myself a few moments later, fled to the ladies' room, to dab my streaming eyes, and put myself back together.

My son is ill with strep throat. It's his first experience with needing antibiotics and somehow more difficult than the flu we all just went through. But today, at the doctor's, he was "a poor source of information" as was my own father. His spirit is close and present in these transitional days of sun and snow, before real spring comes to upstate New York.

I am bone tired, so maybe my defenses are truly down, which isn't a bad thing. I'm having a bit of trouble keeping up with everything as the semester churns into its final six weeks. I haven't been home since Christmas and am missing my old stomping grounds. I am feeling the stresses and joys of mothering teens and tweens, preschoolers and school-agers.

I am deeply saddened and struggling with how to understand and cope with world events in the Middle East and Japan, as well as the role of the United States and the choices we are making. The whole front page of the New York times made me want to weep today.

However, my daughter just came in and told me she is being pursued by the University of Pennsylvania as a potential transfer student, which brightened me up again. It's such a statement on our humanity that our personal experiences are a profoundly important way in which we interpret global events. Little successes are vital, both on a personal and on a global scale. Thank you, Sharon Welch!

So I grieve. And study, and pastor, and grieve some more. I look forward to days of reading and sun; of recuperation and freedom from ill children and outside influences that threaten any sense of wellbeing - bacteria or other.

And I sleep. Sleep is healing, as apparently is apple juice.

Measured sigh of relief

2011-03-16T16:05:00.000-04:00

First, my mother is doing better, though may have suffered a mini-stroke/TIA during the night. We are waiting for the CT scan results.

My hearing went as well as could be expected today. The demands have been reduced, and the girls will meet with an attorney that's been assigned to them. They have to undergo independent testing, but there was no push to move them into the school system. In terms of custody, that will be part of the discussions we will all have with the children's attorney of the next couple of weeks.

Thank you for all of the support, prayers and love I felt holding me throughout the proceedings.

Now, to get through surgery and the RSCC in the next couple of weeks :)

Lent, Spring, and preparing for the RSCC

2011-03-14T21:20:00.000-04:00

Last weekend, a friend of mine preached at my internship congregation, and at the end, she charged us with looking at Lent as an opportunity to reflect and act on our interdependence with all of creation. I was raised Catholic, and I actually really loved Lent and the rituals around it. One of the reasons is probably that I didn't feel that I answered to God, but to my parents. One year I gave up TV for Lent, and On Golden Pond was being shown, and I was able to negotiate an extension of Lent by a day in order to watch it.

But now there is no negotiating, except with myself, so I was determined to take Libby's charge seriously. So we have given up paper products (meaning paper plates, paper towels, and paper napkins) for the duration of Lent. So far it's going pretty well, and everyone is on board with it. It's a good spiritual practice to be aware of our carbon footprint, and how much waste we generate as an already large family of six.

The idea of privation, or making sacrifice is not unheard of for my children; we aren't wealthy by any stretch of the imagination, and we regularly reuse, recycle, etc. But this is a very intentional practice, and it's been interesting to watch how everyone does it. I did threaten to make us use cloth toilet paper, but everyone insisted that was going too far and threatened to mutiny. I countered that it wasn't different than using cloth wipes that we washed and reused with cloth diapers when each child was a baby, but I didn't get very far! Apparently non-diapered butts require paper products ;).

In other news, I actually believe that spring might arrive someday, despite the weather report that says it will be in the teens tonight. There has been a tremendous migration of geese, which is one of the joys of living in the Finger Lakes region of New York. I saw an entire field white with snow geese the other day, with hundreds more filling the sky. On the Thruway over the last three days, there have been Vs of Canadian geese as far as the eye can see; it never ends. I have also seen a number of heron pairs and heard a mourning dove this morning.

I am hopeful that spring will bring a fresh start. The last 12 months have been one difficulty after another it seems. Today was no exception. Since last March, I have had two hand surgeries, and just found out that I have to have a much more extensive one next Friday, on my dominant hand, for a large cyst that is wrapped around my tendons. That pretty much eliminates gardening again this summer, much to my dismay.

My mother went into the hospital with congestive heart failure today. She has been in the hospital numerous times in the last three years, but her breathing is getting worse. She has fluid in her lungs and they suspect she has had another heart attack. My mother-in-law has been in the hospital 3 times since October, with a total of 5 weeks just since Christmas. My father died in November. I've been in and out of court with my ex-husband over child support twice, and have to go on Wednesday again, because he has filed a custody and educational modification around custodial time and homeschooling. I have been struggling with migraines and medication issues since last April.

In less than a month, I return to the RSCC, (for those not UU, it's part of the process of ministry) and I certainly have learned a lot in the last year. I have learned that crisis is not in my vocabulary. Between seminary, parenting, homeschooling, working, internship, volunteering, cleaning, and very little sleep, I have learned to take each day as it comes. I have learned that my daily spiritual practice pays off. I have learned to be much more patient, to listen more, and to incorporate silence and self-care into every single day. I've learned just how very rich I am in friends, and how right I was to follow the call into ministry.

There have been some wonderful things that have happened this year. My children are growing up and becoming more fabulous all the time. My husband is pursuing his own journey of personal transformation. I am in love with my teaching congregation. I have food; shelter; snuggly husband, pets and children; and so much love in my life.

So I guess spring will bring what it must, and life will happen, just as it always does, bringing challenge and grace, a day at a time. Namaste to all who have carried my journey with them in their prayers and hearts this year. Just a few more - for my mother, for the best outcome at court on Wednesday, and for a successful surgery next Friday, with a fast recovery.

Parenting as a Spiritual Practice

2011-03-10T18:59:00.000-05:00

I am considering starting a small group on this topic next year. All I can say is that parenting has made me a stronger person, helped me grow in ways I would never have imagined, and requires a lot of patience.

I am so tired. My oldest will turn 15 tomorrow. She is amazing. Beautiful. Intelligent. Stylish. And very much a teenager, with the normal flaws that go along with that. But I love her so much. Parenting a 15 year old and a 4 year old takes a certain amount of humor though. They both like to talk a lot. They both like to snuggle. They both like to interrupt me when I'm trying to work or study. But it's an amazing, awe-filled journey.

Having a 15 year old means that I, of course, am no longer a youngster. My body is betraying me in little dibs and drabs, and in very inconvenient ways. I have had two hand surgeries in the last year, and have to have another one in a couple of weeks, that will be a much more extensive surgery, and a longer recovery.

And I am finding that I absolutely require more sleep in order to function well.

Parenting a teenager is just as much fun, and just as much work as I expected. I love every bloody minute of it. It is such a gift to see a child becoming a young adult, and to move out into the world. It's bittersweet as well, because I love her so much and do not look forward to the day when she doesn't lay on the foot of my bed to chat each night.

In any event, dear Emma, I love you to the stars and back. You are strong, capable, gorgeous, fun, brilliant, motivated, and just all-around wonderful, and I hope I tell you all those things enough. I am so very proud of you, despite your faults (and mine), and I am so grateful that your spirit chose me to be a mother for the first time.

Namaste my dear girl.

Connect & Breathe in UU World

2011-02-25T11:27:00.000-05:00

I received my issue of UU World yesterday, and sat down this morning with it, and my cup of coffee. I found myself thrilled and inspired by what I read within this month. First of all, as a person with a degree in communications, I enjoyed Peter Morales' editorial on communication and learning how to do it better in the 21st century. Having accessible web presence and communications that reach people where they are - through Facebook updates sent by text, tweets, and email, are vital additions to traditional print communications.

I also really enjoyed Donald Skinner's article about A Third Place and missional work. This speaks directly to the creative ministries we were encouraged to think about in Rev. Lee Barker's class on post-denominational ministry last January at Meadville Lombard.

And of course, I totally loved the article To Listen without Judging by Kimberly French. Connect & Breathe is a reproductive justice initiative I probably wouldn't have gotten involved in had I not been at church the day Rev. Kaaren Anderson gave her sermon on abortion and sexual justice. However, I was there, and was one of the multitudes that signed up to help. Last night, I sat for my second time on the hotline with another volunteer and had such a wonderful evening chatting with my co-volunteer about feminism, sexuality, and abortion. These are topics that don't often come up in my day-to-day life outside of church. But they are key to my understanding of class, gender and justice. I definitely have more to say about these topics!

The training that C&B has put together, as well as the thoughtfulness to language and public perception of the talkline are highly impressive. I am thrilled to be a part of this work as part of my commitment to my home congregation, and as part of my internship work that I'm doing as part of seminary and ministerial formation.

And finally, it was lovely to read Myriam Renaud's article, Got God? Myriam co-taught the Liberal Theology class I took at Meadville Lombard in January, and is delightful. I was very inspired by her theology studies and approach to Unitarian Universalism through her understanding of God.

I haven't been blogging much. Family, school, illness, and internship have sucked all the hours from my days. I have homeschooling reports to write, and a paper on Pietism due today. Despite the busy-ness and other stresses, (like the foot of snow we're getting, again), I am happy. Life is full of meaning and love and gratitude.

Rough week

2011-02-17T22:14:00.000-05:00

No really. I don't mean to whine, but first Jude got a headache last Thursday. It turned into the flu on Friday and today is the first day he doesn't have a fever.

Lucy had a runny nose on Thursday, a fever on Friday, which has progressed to high fevers and a trip to the ER tonight with a pneumonia diagnosis.

Emma succumbed to flu-like symptoms yesterday but is fighting them off with her amazing powers.

Soren had a weekend of coughing.

Tom and I each had time off work due to the flu. I am so sick and can't sleep and I begged the doctor to just take me out back and shoot me, but she refused ;).

On top of it all, Monday was my dad's birthday. I find myself thinking of him all the time this week. I miss his presence and am oddly comforted by having all his ashes in my house currently. I can imagine the feel of my palm on his face. I can imagine his hands, his ring, his ears. I remember what it was like to touch all of those things, to run my finger over the dip in his forehead where he had bone removed during brain surgery, and how cold, cold he was, at the funeral home. I miss him so very much. I had no idea how much it would hurt to lose him.

I have spent the weeks back from Chicago in a frenzy of activity, getting kids where they need to go, trying to get caught up/started with spring semester (already!), prepping my taxes, and finishing an unexpected work project that brought in some much-needed capital.

I am always so grateful when I am healthy because I hate to be sick so much. Really hate it. I cannot wait for everyone to be well again. I will make new Wellness Resolutions about walking every day, and getting to accupuncture 2x/week!

In an event, I am so grateful for my colleagues, friends and family who have been supportive and patient during this time. My dear friend Lauren drove 2 hours today to pick up my older kids and get them to class and such, so I didn't have to drag sick babies out in the car. I love her. SO MUCH!

Anyway, off to bed. But I am filled with gratitude for the love I find myself surrounded with despite the pain and illness surrounding us right now.

Internal vs. External Motivation

2011-01-26T10:58:00.000-05:00

What do y'all think about this CarrotMobbing thing? On some level it reminds me of when my daughter was in 2nd grade (and maybe schools still do this) and the kids would get a special treat when teachers noticed them doing something good. I'm not a huge Alfie Kohn fan, but I have to admit that this seems manipulative and sets up individuals and businesses to act in a way that may not be authentic long-term.

I have never really liked the carrot or the stick approach - where do our morals come from? Where is our internal motivation to act in accordance with our beliefs and morals. But we are externally motivated by our socialization and communion with others in a way that's inextricably intertwined. This is the question that some theists ask of humanists - how can one be moral without the dogma - without the threat of eternal punishment.

Anyway, I'd rather shop at a store whose owner chose to act responsibly and ethically without being manipulated into it.

(and yes, fellow preaching students, I'm reflecting on this during our conversation on authenticity!)

Hyper!

2011-01-23T23:17:00.000-05:00

The last week of class looms - preaching for the week! I just got back to my apartment from my sister's house, where I had an absolute blast. I got to visit with her, her husband, two of her sons. My sister and I went to see a band called Soda last night with her best friend and her crazy next door neighbor. My roommates and I are going to go see them on Thursday.

I have one more major paper to write, and one fun creative project. I am homesick as hell and miss my family with a passion. I love my roommates and could not have survived J-Term without them! I want to take them all home with me. We are planning an annual retreat with each other after we graduate.

Anyway, five more days. Woohoo!!

The home stretch

2011-01-22T10:40:00.000-05:00

Another class done - Arts & Aesthetics. It was great fun, and an opportunity to bond with students I didn't know very well. I especially enjoyed our trip to the Art Institute, and hearing each of us speak about which piece of art grabbed us, and for what reason. I was busily sending photos of the artwork to my 12 year old the whole time, who is a wonderful artist. I can't wait to take her there one of these days - maybe this summer.

I still have a lot of writing to do, and I took on a paid project while I'm here, but UPS seems to have not shown up to deliver the material, which is both stressful, and also buys me a day to work on school projects.

I'm feeling quite homesick for the kids and my husband. I've talked to or Skyped with them every day, and it's been great to see how organized they're all being with school work and schedules while I'm gone. My husband seems to be enjoying the opportunity to be home and spend lots of time with all four of the kids; me being gone for a bit is an opportunity for everyone to appreciate everyone else I think!

This coming week I take on the Preaching class with Bill Schultz. I'm nervous and excited about it. I've heard wonderful things about the class, and had a class with Bill last year, so know he's a great teacher who will push us to do our best work.

Back to writing and preparing taxes, so I can go and visit with my sister tonight. She's dragging me out to see her favorite band, so I'm looking forward to a lot of fun and laughter, which is a good antidote to the stress I'm feeling about all the things I have to deal with when I get home next week.

Week One over

2011-01-15T09:18:00.000-05:00

I have to say that even though I knew what to expect of intensives this year, it is exactly the same mix of whirling experience. I was part of a large liberal theology class for the last five days,the outcome of which is a paper identifying our five vital questions about putting our theologies into practice in our ministries. Long days of lecture and small group work, interrupted by working lunches/information sessions about UUA and ministry track issues, followed by evenings of shared meals, meetings, and early bedtimes have been exhilarating and exhausting, inspiring and overwhelming.

It's amazing to see how much our class has transformed from 18 months ago when we started this journey though. Most of us have been through Clinical Pastoral Education, a large group of us are in our internships, and we are much further into discerning where this call is taking us. It's a fascinating sociological experiment to observe this year's class, my class, the part-time students, and the students from prior programs. Part of being in ministry is learning the art of being participant/observer of your system, and being totally enveloped by the intensive seminary experience is a great opportunity to practice that skill in a safe environment where you can practice without too much fear of screwing up royally.

When I was so busy during the week, I didn't miss my home life too much, but this weekend, I'll be visiting with my sister, so things will slow down a bit. My roommate brought her daughter to visit our apartment this weekend, so I got to snuggle with her, which filled up my cup a little bit - I am missing snuggles from my own kids! Last year at January term, I realized how much physical contact I get from my kids and husband - when I'm traveling, it's very isolating physically, so it was a real gift for my friend to share her sweet kidlet with me!

I still have plenty to do this weekend - catching up on work, papers to write, reading to do. Tuesday I start Arts & Aesthetics, which I am very much looking forward to. It'll be a different kind of a class then Liberal Theology. The following week I am taking Preaching with Bill Schultz, which I am very much looking forward to.

So that's the update from the trenches. More to come as I process all of the things I've been learning.

January, January

2011-01-13T20:52:00.000-05:00

It seems to have been a long time since I have journaled. Much of my writing energy has been going to homilies, papers, reading journals, etc. I have also not been writing much publicly, because I have some personal things going on that are making me a little paranoid about putting anything about my schedule, my schooling, my path, my parenting, out into the public eye.

In any event, I'm just about to finish up my first intensive class of the year at Meadville Lombard, and have been thoroughly engaged by my Liberal Theology class, taught by Mike Hogue. It has given me a good context historically and theologically, for which to imagine the practicalities of ministry in a parish setting.

I am going to see my sister this weekend, and write some papers. I am thrilled to get to visit with her. I have been Skyping with the kids and my husband almost daily, which is wonderful. A combination of child care, time off work for my husband, and a few hours of childcare by my two oldest has made things run smoothly. Everyone is on a good schedule (better than when I'm there apparently LOL) of school work, chores, and playtime!

I have the best roommates in the world. We're staying in a B&B near the school, and are having fun with our rampant sarcasm, theological musings, and cooking all manner of yummy food.

I miss home but have been so engaged by school that the time has flown by. Tomorrow another dinner with friends after the last day of my first class.

I am also doing the final pieces of paperwork to turn into the RSCC for my return interview in April. I am very excited and a little bit anxious about it. This has been a year of tremendous ministerial growth for me.

I am also missing my teaching congregation and my home congregation; and thankful for morning prayer with colleagues, and Vespers on Wednesday evenings.

Anyway, I'm fully off to the races here, and it's fabulous!

New Year

2010-12-31T21:21:00.000-05:00

Oh, I am so happy to say goodbye to 2010, although there were many moments of transformation.

January I got all fired up about people who call Unitarian Universalism a "movement" rather than a religion. Found a teaching minister (at my current teaching congregation, May Memorial UU Society of Syracuse). Applied and interviewed for summer Clinical Pastoral Education at Strong Hospital. My mother had a stroke. I attended my first intensive classes at Meadville Lombard and had a wonderful experience with coursework, collegiality, family visits, and worship. I was also involved in a Flash Mob at my home congregation! I embraced prayer and daily spiritual practice in a meaningful way.

February I dealt with sick children, tried unsuccessfully to plan regular dates with my husband, and enjoyed Teen Soul Matters. I spent quite a bit of time reflecting on the Catholicism of my youth and my enjoyment of ritual and finding a way to make Lent meaningful in my current theology. I got riled up about class and oppression through a lens of theology and my work at the homeless teen center.

March I got accepted to CPE! I managed to make it through half a semester of New Testament studies. I began seriously preparing for my RSCC interview. I thought about righteous indignation and prophetic voice vs. anger. I got new sneakers for the first time in many years, and my aged cat decided to crawl under our porch as his last resting place.

April My RSCC interview ended in a postponement and excruciating disappointment, though there were no red flags. We got a new puppy, whom is still causing me no end of angst. I had wrist surgery (which incidentially is still not healed completely). I started coming to closure at my community placement site, where I was working as a counselor at a homeless shelter for inner city kids. I attended my first District Assembly and had a great time, and then got to play DRE and run children's worship at my home congregation, where I was still working as RE assistant. FUN! I was approved as the ministerial intern at MMUUS! We had three cats die in one month, and the new puppy had to have major xrays to figure out what was wrong with her hip.

May I finished my first entire year of graduate school, then watched my older kids perform in two plays, and visited the Lilac Festival with my whole family. I tackle the idea of what I think the soul is, thanks to a post over at UU Salon. I took on city hall about keeping my chickens and WON! I mulled on the aging of my parents and the difficulties of being in the sandwich generation. My friend lost her teenager to drug abuse, and I started CPE at a Trauma One hospital.

June Death and i come to an uneasy arrangement. I become transformed by working in hospital chaplaincy, and I find God in my everyday life. I embrace prayer in my own UU way, and make it my own. I explore race and privilege, as well as dignity and end of life issues. I explore ministerial authority, right relation, experiencing God, and becoming.

July I continued immersed in chaplaincy and my first infant death. I focus on who I am, who I'm with, and who we become together. I wrestled with my womanhood and gender issues in ministry. I begin to offer loving-kindness to myself during meditation each day - something I hadn't realized was missing.

August In which I finish my chaplaincy internship and miss it desperately. I ruminate on my forceful nature, and why we live, which after a summer of death and illness, seems appropriate. I begin to sport a lovely case of poison ivy, passed to me by my loving four year old daughter. I prepare to become the mom of a six year old son, and work on my own authenticity.

September I head back to Chicago with joy in my heart! I stay with my friend Karen and her amazing family. I soak up all the collegiality I can stand before I come home again. I preached at my internship congregation for the first time and got lovely feedback, my 14 year old daughter started community college, my family delved into my new internship congregation and got to go to Unirondack and kayak, create, sing and worship; I ruminate on the different hats I wear: parent, friend, minister, student, colleague...; and the importance of silence in my daily life.

October October was the month of conferences and trainings! I went to the SLD Leadership Workout and got a shot in the arm about Systems theory by Steinke, which I was already studying at Meadville. I helped Rebecca Parker, President of Starr King, with her book sales after she preached and lectured at First Unitarian Church of Rochester; I went to a training for Connect & Breathe, a post-abortion talkline; and I did the closing service at the SLD's social justice conference. My dreams tell me to Choose Life and read to me from Hafiz and Rumi; my oldest half-brother died suddenly, necessitating hard decisions about informing my father, who had dementia; and then served in a wedding the next day. I reflect further on the complications of family and dementia.

November I have wrist surgery on my other hand, and have a cast for 10 days. I fall in love with my new Wellspring group, I struggle with conflict resolution as a faith-based practice of right relation; my 2nd child turns 12, and my father dies of a sudden heart attack, leaving my life in disarray and a gaping hole. I preached soon thereafter and got through it with flying colors somehow. Thanksgiving is a bit of a drab affair, but we manage. I have all of my father's things to go through but am not ready yet.

December I have a birthday. We celebrate a scaled down Christmas, except my MIL goes crazy and buys a million gifts! My youngest daughter turns four and I reflect on her wonderful homebirth. We go home to visit friends and my mother, who offloads all the jewelry that my dad has given her over the years. I cry. I am tired. My children all act insane while we are traveling. They miss their grandfather, they miss home, they are hormonal and wired and crazed. We are home and ready to welcome in the New Year. We will all be asleep when it arrives, so PARTY ON FOLKs!!

Lucy Lucy

2010-12-18T19:13:00.000-05:00

Lucy Lucy

Lucy is Four today, and I was inspired to repost her birth story, since this is my last baby, and she's not a baby anymore ::sigh::. Oh, I miss the rush of pregnancy, birth, newborns, breastfeeding, holding, snuggling....

Commissioned

2010-12-05T20:18:00.000-05:00

I was approached by the Director of Lay Ministries and the Associate Minister at my home congregation in Rochester to become part of the Pastoral Care Team, along with many other people. A final group of about 9 of us went through training, and this weekend were commissioned by the congregation at all three services.

I cannot even tell you what an honor it was, and how humbling it was, to stand before the congregation that I love so much, that has supported every step of my ministerial preparation so far, and to enter into covenant with them to serve their pastoral needs the best way I can. My heart was full to overflowing and I am so grateful to be standing with such an amazing team of people.

My friend Michael, who I served my chaplaincy internship with last summer, came last evening to support me, which was such a wonderful gift. My son came today, and sat in the back, smiling, winking and mouthing "I love you" and blowing me kisses the whole time I was on stage. I'm sure the congregation must have wondered why I was grinning like an idiot, but that's why. My own son was so proud to have me up there. That's my mom! I was sad not to have my other family members there, but circumstances prevented it.

I am so grateful to be asked to continue my learning of pastoral ministry at Rochester Unitarian, and to serve my congregation in this way. It will also be a continuing asset to my internship at May Memorial UU, as I maintain and add to my pastoral care skills.

Honestly, the best I can say is that my heart was full. I wish my dad could have been there.

About 25%

2010-12-01T21:08:00.000-05:00

I am coming up on being about 1/4 of the way into my congregational internship. I did my mid-term evaluation with my teaching minister today, and have my second meeting with my lay committee on Monday. I'm feeling more serious about formation, as the real work of taking criticism and working through it begins. I'm also about 1/2 way through the whole seminary experience - more than 1/2 in terms of credits, or at least I will be, at the end of January.

I had a lengthy meeting with my minister today, which was a great conversation about theology and beliefs, which believe it or not, can be difficult to have with one's congregation. The faculty at Meadville Lombard asked us, at this point, to reflect on what we have learned about congregational life, and about ourselves as ministers, as well as what we use as theological resources.

I am still waffling back and forth about how much I loved chaplaincy, and what I should do with that desire. Should I go and do a one year residency after I graduate, and take that time to meet with the Ministerial Fellowship Committee? The difference between chaplaincy and congregational ministry for me is that I love the intensity of chaplaincy. I love what it is, I love being there, I love the intentionality of it. I love the diversity of congregational life, I love the long-term knowledge of people's lives and stories, I love preaching, I love small group ministry. If I could find a way to do both, I would. And maybe there is a way to do that, but I just don't know yet. And so...do I jump right into more training (though paid) as a resident chaplain in another 18 months? God, I'm waiting for a sign ;).

I'm also feeling just about 25% right now. I am so unmotivated to finish the three assignments I have left for my church history class that I can barely stand it. I have SO much prep to do for January and have not been able to do almost any of it. I have a lot going on in my personal life that is taking a lot of energy, yet I have been spending more time with the kids than ever, doing homeschooling, and fun stuff, and it is SO great! It is the one thing that is truly energizing right now.

Maybe if I can convince the girls to decorate for Christmas, it will cheer up the house and have a positive effect on me!

Preaching, Napping, Shopping

2010-11-28T23:00:00.000-05:00

I had the typical intern assignment (or so I hear) of preaching on the holiday weekend, but had a pretty full house! When I planned the service, I had no idea that it would be so pertinent to my life in the moment when I was standing up to preach it. It was on the darkness that some people face in this time of light and bustle of holiday time, and how we are called as people of faith to pay attention and be open to the needs of those around us, whether spoken or not. I'll post some of the readings at the end. The first reading I used mentions God several times - someone walked out during it, but whether it was in response to God, or a call to the restroom, I will never know, though that person didn't come back as far as I know.

I read through the service quite a bit yesterday, not sure if I could make it through it with my own grief so fresh and sharp, but once I got onto the stage, everything fell into place. One person told me today that I am perhaps an example of the "best kind of humanist," and I took that as a glowing compliment. Another told me that she couldn't say that she enjoyed the sermon, but it certainly gave her food for thought (I admit, there were dark parts to it, but life is not all goodness and light, now is it?).

I credit my success in large part to preparation, but also to the love and care of our music director, Glen, who was incredibly solicitous of me, empowered me to change the order of service as needed, and did a great job planning music while I was on personal leave. His quiet emanation of love and support from the piano was palpable to me as I led the service, and for the first time, I really felt like I owned it. It was mine. Start to finish, music, readings, my scarf falling off in the middle of my sermon, stumbling over a word here or there...it was mine to own. I also had the most gorgeous decor behind me on the sacred shelf; I wish I had a photo of it to show you, because it was so creative and soft and touching!

In any event, it was a good way to get "back on the horse" after a week of grief and mourning. A dear congregant came up to me and told me that when her husband died, she got herself to sleep that first night, and woke up in the morning only to open her eyes and think: "GodDAMN, he's still dead!" It made me laugh, but it was also so true. I have received so many cards, calls and emails from the congregants at my teaching site and my home congregation that I am overwhelmed with the love of it all. I feel incredibly blessed to be going through this loss while in ministerial formation. There is no other time in one's life probably when I will again have this kind of daily support and love from such a wide and diverse group of colleagues, professors, friends, family and congregants.

I continue to grieve. The thought of my father's hands - large, confident, firm, but gentle. The idea that those hands have doppelgangers on the person of my uncle is a comfort. I feel my father's spirit strongly. I see it in my son, where I had not noticed it before, but he has my father's wave of curl on the back of his head, his outgoing and laughing personality, his ability to make friends instantly and everywhere. I have been arranging photos and wrestling with the complexities of his life and its impact on my extended family, many of whom are estranged or barely known to me, often for reasons that are barely known.

I feel love, anger, loss, pain. I want to bargain, though I am glad he is finally at peace. I said everything I needed to say to him back in July when I went home during CPE training to be with him during his TIA. But there is always one more affirmation of love we can give.

So I came home, I tried to nap. And failed. And took my oldest daughter - just her and I - to the outlets for a new winter coat for her. She looks dashing in a navy blue pea coat and a black autumn trench coat. We bought a few small gifts for her siblings, and had fun at the grocery store after. My children have been seeking me out for this one on one time. A private chat here, a movie there; someone sprawled across the foot of my bed, telling me their frustrations, hopes, dreams and successes.

Sundays are my favorite days. Church and family. Work and ministry. School, learning, love, life. It's all of a piece on Sunday.

I think I'm ready to re-enter the world tomorrow. The first Monday of a new life without George. But with his memory and his spirit at hand.

Readings:

The holiday season is upon us, and as David Barry so sagely said,

In the old days, it was not called the

Holiday Season; the Christians called

it 'Christmas' and went to church; the

Jews called it 'Hanukka' and went to

synagogue; the atheists went to

parties and drank. People passing

each other on the street would say

'Merry Christmas!' or 'Happy

Hanukka!' or (to the atheists) 'Look

out for the wall!'

Rumi, the great Sufi mystic, says:

This being human is a guesthouse.

Every morning a new arrival.

A joy, a depression, a meanness,

some momentary awareness comes

as an unexpected visitor.

Welcome and entertain them all!

Even if they're a crowd of sorrows,

who violently sweep your house

empty of its furniture,

still, treat each guest honorably.

He may be clearing you out

for some new delight . . .

Be grateful for whoever comes,

because each has been sent

as a guide from beyond.

Living with Death

2010-11-25T10:20:00.000-05:00

My father, George Spahr, Jr. died last Friday. When I woke up this morning, I found it difficult to believe that it will be a week tomorrow. It has all been a blur of phone calls, emails, arrangements, and a flood of feelings that would make Kubler-Ross proud.

My dad had been in assisted living/senior apartments/nursing home dementia care for most of the last 20 years, and for more than 10 of those years, I was his guardian and power of attorney. The last five years, he was in a dementia unit, where he couldn't wander off and get hurt or lost, and yet, he was the most "with it" patient there, and spent a lot of time on the other floors, doing activities and entertaining the staff.

On this Thanksgiving Day, I am incredibly grateful for the staff at Centre Crest, in Bellefonte, PA. The nurses and recreational therapists kept my father active, his brain stimulated, and appreciated (for the most part) his humor and flirting. I was so relieved to have him in a safe environment, where he was loved. The staff even took him home for holiday dinners, and helped him pick out small presents for my children and I each Christmas. The last two years have been increasingly difficult, as his mobility was more compromised, and I couldn't take him out as much, while trying to manage my two young children at the same time. I missed taking him to the People's Choice Festival, and to Memorial Day festivities in Boalsburg, PA, where I grew up.

I have so much gratitude and a pile of thank you notes to send out. I have dozens of notes and emails that I have filed in a folder to be answered when I am feeling ready; I have phone calls to return. I am blessed to have friends in my home town who hosted my family, provided a luncheon after the service (Thank you to Jane and Anne, and my mom), my uncle and aunt who drove from Brooklyn, NY to support me and honor my father's life, and my former minister, Rev. Mark Hayes from the UUFCC, who provided a lovely Celebration of Life.

The Heintzelman Funeral Home in State College was outstanding in their compassion, kindness and professionalism. I know it was a small service, but it meant the world to me, and they treated me with the same respect I believe they would have showed to the wealthiest family in town. Jan took care of every single detail, including getting my father's veteran's records, planning the eventual burial of my father's ashes in Manchester, PA, and handling everything with grace and delicacy. I cannot recommend them highly enough to anyone local to central PA. My husband has born the brunt of childcare and cooking for days now. He gracefully took care of the children during the planning of, and the services themselves. He has been in the background of every moment, bringing me coffee and plates of food and letting me sleep when I can. He has respected my private grief, and I have watched his own on his tired and drawn face. He has been right there, as was my mother, my sister, my dearest friends. I may not have acknowledged them in the moment, but their love has allowed me to do what needed to be done, and it now allows me to take this quiet time before I must get back to course work, internship and parenting.

Rev. Hayes read something (I have the book somewhere around, as he kindly gave me a copy for my personal and ministerial use) about Why? That this is the unanswerable question of death. I have not been sleeping well, waking in the middle of the night for hours. My friend Jane counseled me to consider this time a gift - a time of quiet reflection away from the business of the day - and I've been trying to see it that way. These late night times have given me some space to grieve in the whirlwind of the last week. Our culture does not give us a lot of time, but I have had what I'm sure are the same feelings and thoughts of many people who have dealt with death and grief, as we all must.

This is getting long, so I will write more in another post - I process and learn through writing, and it's easier for me to deal with logistics and facts at first, and then make room for the feelings. I've had good advice from friends - make time to grieve now, while the world gives you space. Be prepared for it to be even worse in a year. One thing ministry has taught me is to take care of myself - all those people screaming self-care at me have been heard. I have turned off the phone, filed the notes and emails, and have gone into a private time.

I know my dad is gone, but I can't really believe it. I miss him.

Twelve

2010-11-18T15:31:00.000-05:00

On Saturday, my second daughter will be 12. Hard to believe really. But she is, and she is wonderful, intelligent, creative, artistic, FUN!, loving, thoughtful, and absolutely unique!

Happy birthday Soren! I love you all the way to the stars and back!

More on conflict resolution as a matter of faith

2010-11-10T15:18:00.000-05:00

For my congregational studies class, we are conferencing this week on conflict. We are reading Congregational Life Dynamics and Conflict Management: An Application of Family Systems Theory.

One section stood out to me in particular; how does our faith form our approach to conflict management?

The following premises are distinctive to our faith, and they matter. We Unitarian
Universalists seek
· Not just to affirm and promote in the abstract, but to respect one another’s dignity actively, in all our encounters.
o Thus, to engage each other caringly and carefully, and not to behave in ways that are intentionally hurtful.
o To rely on persuasion rather than coercion.
· To accept one another as growing persons, neither perfect nor “jerks.”
o Thus, to avoid blaming one another for problems.
o To take care not to engage in mind reading or in attributing unsavory motives to others.
· To believe that each of us has some part of the truth and rarely, if ever, does any one of us have the whole or sole truth.
o Thus, to speak our truth.
o To listen to the truth of our companions.
o To welcome, not fear, our diversity.
· To believe that a congregation exists to serve a greater good.
o Thus, not to insist only on our own way (my self trumps all others).
o To appreciate that there are many pathways and manners of ethical
human expression.

I think that one of the hardest ones for me - and in my experience with others in intentional conflict management situations, is the desire to assign blame, or to "mind read." As much as I hate it when people do these things to me, it is easy to fall into these methods of trying to make sense of a situation, especially when it is not clear that the other party is not playing by these same rules!

As part of Clinical Pastoral Education this summer, we studied systems theory for many hours. I expanded some of my learnings into a homily for my learning convocation in September, and distilled down four important points:

1. Make lots of room. There is room for the other and for difference. Life is both...and, not either...or.

2. Be curious. Don't make assumptions and try to make connections.

3. Stay in the moment. Everything is happening in the present. Let the past and future fend for themselves in a conflict.

4. Our own emotions are a barometer for what is happening in the larger group or conflict.

Going back to these basic points of faith, and of the reality of how systems work can help one to stay grounded in the moment, to avoid assumptions of intent, to make room for differences, and to stay open to possible connections.

The document goes on to say, with simple profundity:

"For that matter, this may be the core issue of conflict management: working to create a desired change without trying to force it on others. Somehow, we need to come to a shared desire, mutually respectful of our
divergent needs and wants, if we are to change the balance of forces in the relational system.

Conflict management, then, may have something to do with managing one’s self rather than others. Systems theory argues that if I change me within our relationship, it will change you. So here’s the ultimate paradox: When I am feeling conflicted with you, I don’t need to do anything to you. I need only to work on me and my own functioning."

This is also at the core of Wellspring. Letting the shy soul peek out, letting our own inner voice come into sacred space, where it is respected and able to be heard. Now, if only all of life was run like a Circle of Trust!

Wellspring

2010-11-10T14:53:00.000-05:00

Just like the past two years, Wellspring continues to be a source of spiritual deepening and a source for challenging me to think about how I live out my faith and my values. Today our topic was Our Question Mark faith, and we talked about theology, and the Seven Principles, and how our childhood experience of religion is something we carry with us, or discard, or change to meet our current needs.

The conversation with this group is amazing and insightful. I am continually awed at the power of circles, of listening with intentionality, and with no desire to fix or save, no setting each other straight, no advising. It's not easy to do - we are good people and we want to help. But the power that comes from being heard in a sacred and safe space - that is more important.

I haven't written much lately. I've been wrestling with a bunch of things. Surgery on my wrist last week, frustrating situations in my personal life, and feeling hurt by actions beyond my control that affect my children's relationships and wellbeing. I have found it easier to retreat into silence, here and elsewhere.

Recognizing others' inherent worth and dignity is not always an easy thing, and being in right relation with people who seem intent on doing hurtful things is definitely not easy. The balance between setting appropriate boundaries and having clear and positive communications is one I can't see my way through yet this week. That said, there is a time for advice, and I'm working on getting some, from a variety of sources, which will help me to move forward in accordance with my values I hope.

There is a balance between doing what is right and necessary, and doing that which is retributive - especially when others are pursuing an agenda of retaliation. It's hard to take the high road all the time, especially as I move into later stages of formation and discernment, and the ethical stakes are raised. It's a huge responsibility. It seems that the words I've swallowed so many times have become lodged in my throat and are causing actual physical symptoms.

Again, Wellspring encourages me to continue daily prayer and spiritual practice, to meet with a spiritual advisor, and to keep asking what my faith leads me to do in my life. These are good paths, and I feel blessed to be in good company.

One way I'm practicing ministry these days is through the Church of the Larger Fellowship's Prison Letter Writing Ministry. I have been paired with a young man out west, who is in prison for a long time. We have exchanged one letter each, and I find him fascinating. It's a good way to understand more about oppression and cultural systems of legality, of family, of society. And I hope it will teach me more about being open to the inherent worth and dignity of every person, in every person that I come into relationship with.

Dementia

2010-10-22T20:44:00.000-04:00

I was afraid to tell my father about the death of my brother, because I am afraid that he will forget. And then I'll have to tell him again. I talked to him today, and I think he has indeed forgotten about it. Now see, this is part of what informs my theology. Because really, what kind of God would allow almost 40 years of debilitating brain damage, then take away a son, and then let my dad have to find out over and over again?

Certainly not my God, but perhaps the God of my childhood.

And while someone is helping me to understand theodicy, perhaps they can explain why my 6 year old son is obsessed with this song, which he has heard perhaps twice, before I really paid attention to the lyrics.

Grace and forgiveness

2010-10-20T13:17:00.000-04:00

My paternal grandmother's name was Grace. My daughter Lucy is named after her - Lucy Grace Antoinette.

Grandma died when I was pretty young, but I remember her smile, and her white hair, and her diminutive height. She had five children, my father being the oldest. He then had three children to his first wife, the oldest of which just died.
http://www.legacy.com/obituaries/york/obituary-print.aspx?n=craig-s-spahr&pid=146067044

I remember going to the annual Christmas party at my aunt's house. It was my favorite time of year. My childish memories are of the swinging wicker chair that the kids all loved to sit in. Of the spiral staircase leading up to the roof and the hot tub. Of the bar, where all the adults congregated, drinking mixed drinks and eating delicious food. There were tons of cookies, and everyone dressed to the nines. My aunt Luella, with her bright red hair, loved me to pieces and always made me feel special.

My aunt's husband was an identical twin, and they got a kick out of confusing people. My oldest brother has a daughter, Jenny, who is about four years younger than me, so by the time I got around to being interested in her, my parents were divorced and I wasn't attending the party anymore, or she was maybe on to more interesting things as a young teen. I only met her little brother once or twice, but I remember my oldest brother always being kind to me, as was his wife.

I am the only child of my father's second marriage, and my mother has never been easy to get along with. The boys didn't get to see my dad much after he married my mom, and especially after I was born - and then 4 months later he became permanently disabled with a brain aneurism that left him institutionalized for almost 4 years.

There haven't been a lot of opportunities over the years to build relationships with my siblings, though my sister and I (from my mom's first marriage) are now close and have shared the trials and tribulations of marriage, moving, parenting, and now caring for an aging parent. And I don't think that my dad's family were given much of a chance to understand how changed he was by his brain damage. And I think that he left a lot of hurt in his wake up until that point, so it was easiest to just slip away and let my mom deal with the bulk of his care for years and years.

For the last 10 years or so, I have been my father's caretaker, which is a big job, especially emotionally, as he deteriorates into dementia, and has had to have increasing levels of nursing home care. My dad's family showed no interest in helping me with that, or even in staying in touch, which hurt my father very much - but I suppose they may have figured turnabout was fair play. I don't know, really.

I do know that he is our father. And it hurts to have been left out of my brother's obituary. I have never had much in the way of a close family and I cherish what I have, and build what I don't, out of whole cloth, and loving people in my life. It is almost amusing to me how much it hurts for my dad, and perhaps me, just by association, to be rejected again.

Regardless, I refuse to do that to others. I have joined the CLF's prison ministry, writing letters; and am going to be part of a pastoral care team at Rochester Unitarian, where I can continue to serve and reach out to congregants in need. Thankfully, I have what I need right now. Friends and a husband who understand my lifelong pain around my family's disassociation with each other, and who cherish me for who I am, not because of the sins of my parents.

Forgiveness is the art of building bridges across pain. It has been a difficult concept for me over the years, and one that I continue to wrestle with.

Grace is undeserved and unexpected. My sister often surprises me with moments of caring and grace. She did so this week. My mother often makes me laugh uncontrollably at her crazy sense of humor. My children lavish me with undeserved and expected hugs and kisses and affirmations of my mothering journey. My life is full. Grief and loss, joy and grace, are all steps on the daily travels of my heart. I am grateful for this fullness of my days - even the sorrows amidst the joys.

Church Mission and personal blessings

2010-10-19T23:33:00.000-04:00

Pathways Church - Sermon from 10-17-2010 - Standing For Grace from Pathways Church on Vimeo.

Thanks LE for the link. I just love watching David preach. I feel so blessed to have him as the chaplin at Meadville Lombard because boy can he rile me up. Yep, it's 34 minutes long. Watch it anyway.

I have had a long day. My father is grieving and cannot go to his son's funeral. I do not have throat cancer, but apparently have some sort of muscle "spasm" in my esophagus that is causing me to feel as if I have a golf ball in my throat for the last five months. I don't have answers but I have Xanax ;).

I have a beautiful teenager who is smart and kicking community college's ass. I have a wonderful home congregation and a wonderful teaching congregation. I spend my days doing the things I love - parenting and ministry.

I am truly blessed. I have friends checking in on me; colleagues honoring the work that I am doing. Family who supports my work. And a lovely dog who sleeps by my bedside and accompanies me on my morning walks, enjoying the deer who peek out at us, and the waves of our neighbors. Life is really good.

Connect & Breathe, Loss, and Family Stories

2010-10-16T22:13:00.002-04:00

It has been a full and varied week, that's for sure. First off, I need to let people know that my brother Craig, passed away quite suddenly this morning. Many of you do not know that I have a brother, but I actually have three. I have been estranged from Craig for at least 10 years, and am only now beginning to understand why.

They are my half-brothers, from my father's first marriage, and we didn't live together ever, as they were in their teens and 20s when I was born. My father was a totally different person prior to my birth, and his subsequent brain aneurism when I was 4 months old. He was, according to various reports, not a particularly nice person. So my brothers had a completely different father than the kind, involved, present, and stay-at-home (disabled) father that I grew up with. That has colored their relationship (or lack thereof) with him quite a bit, and my own mother's stories never filled in the blanks in ways that made sense.

My brother and I had a falling out over the care of our father, which I took over 10+ years ago, and although it is too late to go back and mend bridges, I think I am beginning to understand some of his thinking and reasons, based on his very different relationship with our father, but I am sad there was not a reconciliation. My father missed Craig and his other sons very much and with the dementia, has ceased to understand their estrangement. I am grateful and blessed to be slowly building bridges with the youngest of my three brothers.

The hardest part was telling my father, who suffers from dementia, that his oldest son had died. I'm so grateful, every day, for having done chaplaincy training. And I'm grateful for the RN who was compassionate and authoritative in helping me figure out how to best break this heartbreaking news to him. I am so sad for Craig's wife and children, for my surviving brothers, who were close to him, and to his many friends. It is a tragedy for any parent to lose their child, as my father has, and he died too young.

I found this news out right after the evening church service today, which came after a day of talkline training for Connect & Breathe where I will be volunteering as part of the sexual justice component of my internship. It is the east coast version of Exhale, and has been supported by Planned Parenthood and my home congregation, First Unitarian Church of Rochester (check out the sermon No Secrets).

I was conflicted about Connect at first - I have concerns about the assumption that all UUs are pro-choice, but this organization is careful to not be pro-choice or pro-life, or to use that language. It is a place for women who have undergone an abortion to call and talk, and the mission is to empower women to serve as their own moral agents around their reproductive health, and to trust themselves. I have personal and professional reasons for wanting to offer this support to women, and since it's going to be the only game in town on the East Coast, refer, refer, refer! Phone lines are set to open on 11/15. This is important work, people.

Tomorrow I will be participating in a wedding, which is exciting and joyful. Sorrow and joy, the hallmarks of ministry and of life, every single day.

Grace: Unexpected Gifts of Possibility and Hope

2010-10-07T09:52:00.000-04:00

I woke up this morning from a couple of very intense dreams, but they started to fade as soon as I rolled out of bed. The feeling I was left with though, was one of youthful expectancy. In my dreams, I was a young mom again, and then just a young woman. In my sleep, I went back in time and when I awoke, it was with that sense of excited suspense that doesn't occur nearly as often as I head towards middle age.

I wanted to badly to go back to sleep; to hold on to that moment of hope, of possibility! There was a young man reading to me in my dream - a passage from Rumi, or perhaps Hafiz, and he asked me what it meant. I said something youthfully profound, but then finished with what I preach nearly every day, to everyone around me. Choose Life! It means choose life - don't operate from a place of fear! Choose Life! And then I awoke, to my daughter's small feet digging into my ribs, to the dog crying to go out, to the life around me, rushing by so early in the morning, already.

Working in ministry is the place where I get to feel those sacred moments of hope and of possibility when I'm awake. Watching someone find out a truth about themselves in a small ministry group. Having someone hug me after the service, with tears in their eyes, moved by something that was maybe just a sentence for me - but was life changing for them. Sometimes it's me sitting in a service finding myself overflowing with joy and tears.

I'm still holding on to that feeling mid-morning, alongside the reality of the day before me, that is filled with yet unfulfilled possibilities. Anything could happen! And that is Grace.

A month of awesome!

2010-10-03T19:13:00.000-04:00

October is busy but with amazing opportunities. Yesterday I had the opportunity to attend the UU Leadershop Workout put on by the St. Lawrence District. There was an inspiring keynote by Connie Goodbread, the Interim District Executive for SLD. She talked about only having two years to work with us, and a LOT about systems theory, and Steinke's Healthy Congregations, which my Meadville class has been studying this semester. She studied with him for six years, and I'd love to talk more with her. She talked about how being an interim requires her to "enter the system lightly," yet how she is a blunt speaker, a do-er, and wants us to trust wading out into the deep waters with her. As an intern entering a two-year position, just about everything she said resonated with me. Nothing she said was new to me, in terms of thinking about growth, and hospitality, and systems. But it was a good reminder that our leaders are leading us in the right direction - and we have some great ministers blogging about their own journeys in this direction, that I have the privilege to read through UUpdates every day.

Today, I did the reflection in the worship service, on hospitality. I enjoyed it very much, and especially enjoyed having lunch with the congregation and meeting more people! I got to attend the RE Committee after that, which was comfortable and inpiring.

Next week, Rebecca Parker, president of Starr King, is preaching all three services at Rochester Unitarian, and doing a presentation and book signing Saturday evening, which I've been invited to help out with ::::beam::::. How awesome to get to hang out with Rev. Parker! Sunday, I'm helping out with the youth service, as all the rest of the staff will be gone from May Memorial.

The following weekend, I am attending a training for Connect & Breathe, an initiative spearheaded by Rochester Unitarian to provide non-judgmental post-abortion counseling, modeled on Exhale. This will be my sexual justice work for my internship agreement this year, and I am really jazzed about it, after listening to Rev. Kaaren Anderson's sermon yesterday. It's not posted yet, but it's called No Secrets. I had some reservations initially, but they have been cleared up, and I believe this is faith work that is imperative. More about this soon.

The following weekend is the NYSCU conference, where I will serve on a panel about internship, with my friend and Rochester Unitarian intern, Kathy Tew Rickey. UUA Moderator Gini Courter is speaking, which is not to miss.

October 30th, Kate Braestrup is speaking at the Social Justice Conference, and I just read her book today, and cried the whole way through it. Then there is the Halloween Party at First UU of Syracuse!

So a month of awesome! Not enough time left for studying, but I'm hoping that after this month of committee meetings and getting my feet under me, a more normal schedule will emerge.

November 1st is my first internship committee meeting. So that month will start off with a bang as well.

Morning Thoughts

2010-09-25T10:37:00.000-04:00

I've been reflecting on my daily spiritual practice a lot lately, thanks to Wellspring starting up again. It has gone through some changes over the last several years, and I find it oddly amusing that it is currently working best in its original incarnation - walking, letting thoughts go, intentionally listening to the world. I find that right now, in this time, morning meditation, if I can stop making lists in my head long enough, allows for some of my best and most introspective thinking.

I have several sermons to compose soon, and I often come home from walking inspired to write, and with a clear head.

The last three weeks have left me, like Josephine March, with a rumpled mind. The start of the school year for myself and even for my homeschooled kids, is always a time of transition. New schedules, new studies, new demands on our time, all create good and bad stress on the family system. The last six months, my morning meditation has been more regimented, with specific guided meditations using prayer beads. But I found myself no longer feeling filled up by it; all the noise of my life has left me aching for silence. I cannot wait until the end of the day when everyone goes to bed and I can be alone, just for a little while, with nothing but silence.

So silence is what I create on my morning walks. Silence to reflect, and mostly to just be. I find myself filled with curiosity about what the next incarnation of my practice will become.

Best friends

2010-09-23T20:29:00.000-04:00

Today, I put aside studying for the afternoon so that my 11 year old could spend that time with her best friend, and I could do the same with my best friend, the mom of said 11 year old's best friend. Confused yet?

I find that in ministry, it is so important to have a spiritual director, and a therapist isn't a bad idea. But having a best friend to vent to, to keep you straight, to tell you where you screwed up, and let you know where you didn't? That is a true necessity.

When I screw up, I always think, WWLS? (What would L say?). She doesn't pull any punches with me. She's kind, but direct. I have a lot of people I love in my home congregation and am finding more lovelies in my teaching congregation, but there are boundaries as you move further into the process. (For a great read on this topic, check this out.) It's imperative to have a friend you can trust. Not that we haven't had our moments of frustration with each other; after six years of weekly plus contact, that's bound to happen. But I'm so grateful that our friendship has survived all this time.

In Wellspring this week, we were talking about Parker Palmer's thoughts on living undivided lives. Living your faith, your values, while remaining open to dialogue and being non-judgmental is a hard row to hoe sometimes. How do we live out who we are and what we believe, and have prophetic voices, not just in our ministry role, but in our lives, without being seen as preachy, or goody-two-shoes, or inauthentic?

It's a balancing act. I am so glad that I have a few good friends who I can bounce these things off of and who give me honest feedback - who see my whole self - not just one aspect of me. Student, intern, student minister, mom, friend, wife, adversary, teacher, board member, employee - I am all of these things, but there are few that see the whole person and love me for that, warts and all.

Taking off the different hats that we wear and being our true, whole selves, is important for everyone. Having a friend who will empower you do that, listen to your hopes and fears, successes and challenges? It's like that credit card commercial. Priceless.

Bears and Pirates and Kayaks, Oh My!

2010-09-19T18:58:00.000-04:00

My family has survived their first trip to Unirondack!

On the way there, a young black bear sprinted across the street in front of us about 20 miles outside of camp. It was quite exciting! I got to kayak for the first time ever, and went out three times. This afternoon, we saw a loon as we were getting ready to head out. Lucy and I went out in a two-person kayak, which was a lot more work than the single. My 11 yo kicked my butt in paddling.

When Tom took Jude and Lucy out in the rowboat, Lucy saw a sailboat, and said, "Jude, oh no! Pirates!"

Jude calmly took stock of the situation and said, "Lucy, those aren't pirates."

"How do you know," posits Lucy.

"Pirates don't wear lifejackets!"

Indeed.

As a student minister, I felt this was such a great opportunity to get to know some of the congregation in a more informal setting. And there's nothing that builds humility like having your 3 and 5 year old in the dining hall, right? I got to hang out with teens, littles, and adults. I got to play Crypto with my teaching pastor (she kicked my butt). I got to go to a talent show, a bonfire where the teens ran a reflective listening circle, and light the chalice for a sweet and short worship service this morning.

My teen got swept right up with the other teens and my 3 yo fell in love, over and over again. I know this must be an awesome congregation, because we felt just like family by the end. Everyone pitched in to cook, clean, and watch kids. There was guitar playing, and drumming, and piano, and singing. It was everything I had heard of Unirondack. My older kids now want to switch summer camps from the YMCA after years!

I have a lot to think about for my gratitude sermon at Thanksgiving, that's for sure. I can't wait to see everyone again next Sunday!

The new year

2010-09-08T20:21:00.000-04:00

I don't know why a new year starts in January. Everyone knows it starts in September!

Whilst my family one by one falls to the flu that I started out with two weeks ago, life continues apace. My oldest started "school" for the first time since 2nd grade, with 3 classes at the community college. She seems to be enjoying the reading; we'll see what happens when the writing starts.

My son is ready to delve into the world of sports a bit more this year it seems. We are also planning weekly library days, which I am excited about. Free wifi! Near Starbucks!

I participated in my Wellspring retreat today and am very excited about the opportunity to co-facilitate this group. We had a wonderful kick-off, and there are just so many joys to small group ministry. This is a special group as well because it is made up of congregants from two different congregations, so there is a great border-crossing (in Meadville language) opportunity afoot!

It was also my first full day in my internship site, and it was really wonderful to meet with my supervising minister and talk about the topic of the week at seminary - multiculturalism and institutional change. I left with two more books to add to my reading list, one a history of my internship site, which will be very helpful in contextualizing the systems at work there. We talked more about the social location of congregations and how balancing growth, multiculturalism, systems, etc. is a ministerial balancing act. It's so much to think about, and I keep mentally stepping back more and more to try to encompass the whole picture; it becomes a bit overwhelming and underscores the need for good futures planning!

I am starting to get the lay of land for the different committees at the church and when they meet so I can start to float through and shadow them. Now, off to finish work and the several hundred pages of reading to do, plus that 3 page essay on church history.

How joyous!

2010-09-05T16:49:00.001-04:00

Today was my first Sunday at my new internship congregation, and I preached. I think we had a decent turnout; I even heard rumors that some people ventured out just to quench their curiosity about the new student minister!

It was such an incredible joy to get to meet so many congregants, to share coffee hour with them, and to start to listen to their stories. It was wonderful to be in the pulpit and to get feedback. It was amazing to have my two oldest children with me.

Chaplaincy is short-term ministry, and the challenge of a two-year placement, where I really have an opportunity to partner with the staff, and to know more deeply the lives of the congregation.

Joy, joy, joy!

and so it begins...

2010-09-04T14:10:00.000-04:00

I am sitting in the airport in Detroit, waiting for my flight to Buffalo to board. I wish I was home already, but I am actually enjoying my last hours of silence and intentionality before re-entry into the chaos of my household. My family is Noisy, as I discover when I take my rare trips away and come back. And ministry is often not. It is filled with lots of silence, and listening, and creation of sacred space, and the loudness of joyous song and celebration. It's a different kind of noise, and I always need a little time to adjust.

I am returning from the start of my second year at Meadville, and the beginning Convocation for congregational studies. I am returning home tired from too little sleep, but absolutely invigorated with the joy of spending time with my colleagues, friends and the ML faculty. I am rejuvenated by vision, passion, and excitement for the upcoming year of congregational internship. I'm thrilled about the things we will be studying, a little apprehensive about the amount of reading I need to complete for my church history course and my three intensives in January, and absolutely filled with love for my fellow seminarians.

It was so great to spend time with some new-to-me faculty, and to spend hours talking about clinical pastoral education, different kinds of ministry and the intersection of life and ministry. I feel so incredibly blessed by my family, who supports me in the insane demands of seminary. I have endless gratitude for the sacrifices they have all made in the last year, and I hope this year will be a little easier.

I woke up this morning with "We Go Marching in the Light of God" ringing in my ears. It ended my CPE, and it starts the beginning of this new journey.

Blessings on my friend Karen, who hosted me at her home, to Tina Porter and the entire Student Services staff, who make things easy for me, and the God of on-time air travel, who so far, has made travel seamless and pleasant, which is rare for me.

I am ready to start. Ready to step out into the next piece of this journey. And I'm preaching tomorrow morning at May Memorial UU Society, if you want to feel the love!

Mom to the Screaming Masses: Onions, Parfaits and People Have Layers in Common

2010-08-29T10:01:00.000-04:00

Mom to the Screaming Masses: Onions, Parfaits and People Have Layers in Common

I totally identify with Carmen's post. I don't usually do memes anymore, but I thought this one was kind of fun. I have come a looong way in overcoming my judgmentalism, and in trying to figure out people's intentions, and the more I work on it, the more it drives me batty when people do it to me. (Yes, dear, I am aware that I will be dealing with a lot of transference as a minister, and countertransference, and all that good stuff!)

Anyway, Carmen's meme is kind of fun. I won't reproduce it here, but it reminds me that we're all working on becoming more authentically ourselves, and that helps us to be in right relation with others.

Odds and Ends

2010-08-22T11:37:00.000-04:00

I seldom comment on political topics, because others are so much more eloquent than I, but I am increasingly frustrated with the political furor over the Mosque "on" Ground Zero, and even on Obama's comments. I am constantly amazed at disinformation and how easily "herd" mentality takes over, as Dowd says. When are Americans going to stop being so narrow-minded and gullible? When are they going to act like educated adults instead of the boys in Lord of the Flies?

I am also really enjoying the 12 part (so far) conversation over at East of Midnight on RE for kids and adults. I added a few comments, fwiw.

I am struggling to finish some reading and writing for the start of school's convocation. Whoever thought it would be a good idea to give summer homework while were all in CPE?

Our last week of vacation is starting with rain, which is putting a crimp in my plans to go to the Finger Lakes, as is the falling through of a house sitter, which I had hoped would buy us a few days at Lake George, or even the Eastern Shore. :::sigh::: I guess that buys me extra time to do the aforementioned homework.

I have been slowly getting the house uncluttered from the summer, and trying to figure out how to manage 6 people's schedules in the measly amount of hours allotted to a day. Seminary + work + community college for the teen + homeschooling programs and academia for the other 2 + plus keeping the preschooler alive seems like a gargantuan task. Thank the heavens for Google Calendar!

I also need to plan the Boy's birthday party. How did that happen so fast? Ideas for cheap and fun presents for a six year old would be appreciated. So far he's getting a plasma car, which he's super excited about.

Adventures in Parenting

2010-08-17T20:47:00.000-04:00

I have enjoyed being with my children as they have grown up. I have made choices I thought were caring and sustainable - homebirth, cloth diapering, breastfeeding, homeschooling, encouraging feelings and closeness.

This has all been well and good but now my youngest child has punished me, but good ;). She weaned from breastfeeding quite some time ago, and at the same time, took up "rubbing" our skin as a form of connection. She has kept up with this habit for quite a long time and even likes to fall asleep while rubbing my tummy or my arm.

Yesterday we went to a friend's to play and at the end of the day, I picked up Lucy and she, true to form, rubbed my bare back (I was wearing a tank top). I now am sporting a lovely case of poison ivy, right where she rubbed my back. I can't reach it, I can't see it, and I can't put lotion on it without help. Thankfully, my family and friends have been willing to help put cortisone cream on it but ow!

Who knew that all this loving parenting would end up like this ;) . One gratitude is that neither child developed poison ivy. I myself was immune to it until I had my own children.

Thank goodness for a spiritual practice. Meditation actually helps a bit. de

Why Live?

2010-08-15T10:23:00.001-04:00

UU Salon's question of the month is Why Live?

This is one of those deep existential questions, along with "Why are we here?" that I always kind of scoff at, because it doesn't have a clear answer. I also have dealt with my own and others' severe depression, both organic and situational, which puts this question into stark relief.

There are a lot of facets to this question - biological, existential, purpose, and more.

In working with ill and dying people this summer, I saw that we live out of a biological need to exist. There are those who are clear about how far they want technology to extend this biological imperative. Some want a no-holds-barred, claws dug in, approach to sustaining life. Others define life by function and ability. Living while hooked up to tubes and medicines is not how they would define "life," so it's about quality. So they live for that quality - the time they can enjoy with family and friends, doing things they love. Others live because they are afraid of what's on the other side.

For me, I think I live because, as I have been described several times now, I am a force of nature. I am a more diplomatic force of nature than I was 20 years ago, but still, I can be a sort of forceful tide, that is impelled towards my call, and pulls people along in my wake. I never thought much about my own life force until this summer. I like what Rachel Naomi Remen says in Kitchen Table Wisdom. She says that life is not fragile, but rather impermanent. At times during CPE, I thought that life was fragile, when I considered my own mortality, but I think that Remen is right. Our bodies try to live within their abilities; they are not fragile, but they can only withstand so much abuse from the world we have created.

So I live because my biology compels me to. As I get older, I continue to be in tune with my own physical processes. My ebbing fertility makes me want more children before it's too late. My shifting weight and strength makes me aware of the need to exercise and care for the temple my consciousness resides in. My spiritual awareness grows and accepts the known and unknown that lay before me.

I live because I have overcome great emotional and spiritual pain. I feel called to use those experiences to serve my greater community of fellow humans and the universe. We all have forks in the road, but I have never felt that the choice to not serve was an option. That fork was short and dark. Every step, every job, every choice, has been a step on the road to acknowledging the call to serve. Looking back, it's amazing to me that it took me so long to become aware of it. I don't believe in predestination, except in my most superstitious moments, but I do feel that I have been imbued with purpose, perhaps accidentally.

I don't know why I live, in the existential sense. I am not a theist, but I am religious. I sense that there is more to this life than we know and I have experienced the deep and unseen connections that bind us to each other and to the cosmos. As a humanist, I feel a responsibility to live in a certain way, and in a certain type of relationship to everything that my life touches.

I live because I am called to live; physically, emotionally, and spiritually. I hope that when it is time for my physical body to let go, that I will be ready to embrace whatever comes next.

Saying Goodbyes

2010-08-12T21:37:00.000-04:00

Today was our last CPE (Clinical Pastoral Education) group. We present our final service tomorrow and then we are off to new destinations. We had an amazing group of interns. I never doubted we would, but the reality, after 11 weeks together, is stunning.

I feel so blessed to have an interfaith group of ministerial colleagues to have as friends going forward. We may head in different directions, theologically and geographically, but we have sat in the presence of grief, joy, and God together.

I am filled with gratitude, loss, and excitement as we move forward in our lives and ministries. We are standing together, at the edge of the unknown, and we are ready to fly.

The feminist voice

2010-08-10T21:01:00.000-04:00

I presented my final evaluation for CPE today. It was very affirming, and I feel gratitude for the experiences I have shared with my internship group this summer. I bid farewell to the staff on my floors and a few patients that have been long term in the hospital. I did my final paperwork. Tomorrow night I work my final on-call shift.

I cannot imagine what next week will be like without chaplaincy in my life. This is somewhat how I felt when my internship at the shelter was over in May, except that this has been all-consuming ministry. I am also excited to dive into my congregational internship in just three weeks, but it will be a very different experience than this.

It is interesting to me how entering ministry has changed my discernment process. I foresee it being much longer and more deliberate than I had thought, and this growth and maturity is a wonderful thing.

In any event, one thing that I was surprised to find myself focusing on in my final evaluation was my voice as a woman. My group has 5 men and 2 women, and it has been shocking to discover things about myself in that experience - how I inadvertently defer to men - checking in, for one. I have worked on these observations over the last three months, and have been fascinated to be a participant of and observer of my experience.

One of my questions for feedback was about my direct style. I have been labeled "aggressive," and a "bitch" for being direct and clear in my communications. But this was not the perception of the men in my group. I didn't get much feedback from the woman today, but at mid-unit, there was a desire to see some of my softer side. (Some would assert that I don't have one ). My supervisor was delighted to find out that I am an 8 on the Ennegram, which healthily integrates to a 2, which has become obvious to me as I work to attain a balance of diplomacy and prophetic voice.

I am anxious to see how this plays out in a congregration. I think a strong prophetic voice is an asset in preaching and justice work; it might be perceived as challenging in a board meeting, but it remains to be seen. I'd be interested to hear about other women's experience with their ministerial presence and voice.

End of Life Issues

2010-07-31T15:08:00.000-04:00

I just found this article linked on Facebook by a friend of mine. It was in response to an article I had read earlier article that I got from Episcopal Chaplain at the Bedside. Go read all 3. I'll wait.

This is really the most profound thing I have taken away from a summer of CPE. This issue of life, and quality of life is something that came up in my Loss and Grief pastoral care class, but it's at the heart of illness, and how we live, and most importantly, how we die.

After watching patients go through awful things, I went home and did an advance directive. I"m filing it with my doctor and putting a copy in my safe and on my fridge, should the EMTs ever come to my house. I implore you, go do the same. And think about, and talk about, what life and death mean to you with your friends and family.

Back to the Grind

2010-07-23T19:37:00.000-04:00

My daddy (my mother calls her dad, daddy too) is back at the nursing home. He was discharged from the hospital today. The doctor said he remembered my name this morning! That is progress and makes me happy. I bet he will be less confused when back home too. He was worried about his roommate, Merv, who is blind.

I went back to work yesterday and it was good. It was hard to go to one of my units, because Monday, a long-time patient of mine died there. But I did it. I have a whole new bunch of patients there that I am coming to know and love.

Today we had a full day of patient visits and I got to see 9. We also had a workshop on gang violence. Whew.

Tomorrow I rest and practice my...

Sermon! That I am preaching at my home church on Sunday! I am excited and nervous. It means a lot to me to be asked to preach there, my home, my support, where my church family is. I did opening words as a worship associate last summer and knew that I was in the right place.

It is good to be home, I miss my daddy, and am grateful for all your prayers and good thoughts. I have felt lifted up by them and they have helped me to get through this week.

Shalom.

Home again

2010-07-21T23:55:00.000-04:00

In a whirlwind of travel, intensive CPE, and family illness, I have been to PA and back to NY in 24 hours, while spending just as much, and possibly more time in a hospital room then I would have in NY.

My father is medically stable. They are continuing to do tests. He had an EKG today, and will have a follow up CT scan tomorrow. He is terribly confused and has no recognition of anyone but me (and he doesn't remember my name), or even his distant past and childhood, which worries me.

I hated to leave, I hated to stay. I feel torn in two between my two homes. I was horribly homesick for both places in transit, both ways. I can't wait to go back, I dread going back.

The full-time chaplain, an Episcopalian priest, came and met with my dad and I, and I am much reassured. She promised me she would see him every day while he's there, and understood dementia and confusion and was patient and loving with him. He even oriented enough to ask her a Bible joke! (What 3 nuns are mentioned in the Bible?)

It was so hard to say goodbye to my dad. I told him how much I love him, and that he is a great dad. He got all teared up, which I have never seen him do. I didn't quite know what to make of it, but it was very moving.

He became agitated this afternoon and required a lot of redirection and supervision as he refused to wear his oxygen and kept trying to leave to "go home." They assigned him a 1:1 aide today but now he's sleeping and they just have the bed alarm on. Hopefully the Seroquel will keep him out for the night.

I now know what all that free floating anxiety I was feeling on Tuesday (yesterday?!) was about. My family has a history of being slightly psychic with each other (weird, and unbelievable and magical I know). But there you have it.

I wonder what tomorrow will bring? I know one thing is a run in the morning, a chance to see patients, and juggling phone calls with the hospital in PA. Being in the sandwich generation is no picnic (pun intended).

Walking in those shoes

2010-07-21T11:05:00.000-04:00

I got a all at the end of the workday yesterday that my dad was having some sort of mini-stroke at his nursing home. I had them call the ambulance, and then called the hospital to give them my contact info, and set up some local people to come to the hospital and be with him.

He did indeed have a TIA and is still pretty confused, and getting a bit agitated. For those that know his history, he already has brain damage from an aneurism, and has age-brain-damage-related dementia, and lives in a nursing home.

I talked to his doctor this morning who was encouraging, but I didn't see the improvement I was led to believe I would from talking to the doctor. Things are better, incrementally, than last night, but certainly not back to baseline.

As a chaplaincy intern, I did request a chaplain visit, something I've never done before. A volunteer chaplain came to visit and I learned a whole lot about what not to do ever again (if I ever did any of these things):

1. Do ask if you can stay and visit - don't just come in, get the name wrong, and then attempt to flee
2. Do ask about religious preference, don't tell me about yours, unless I ask
3. Do ask if the patient would like another visit
4. Do ask if the patient/family would like to pray (I fail to do this all the time, but sure would have been comforted by the offer this morning, even as a non-Christian).
5. Don't be intimidated by patients who are confused. They still like visitors and like to talk, even if they don't make sense to you.
6. Oh, and introduce yourself FIRST thing - don't make me guess who you are and what you want.

All that said, I'm glad she came, and hope she sends the full time chaplain up, as she promised. I'd really like someone to be able to sit with my dad, even for 10 minutes, after I can't be here.

The doctor said that if things stay stable, it would be fair for me to head home and monitor events from there. As I said, I'm not entirely encouraged by 'progress' from last night, but the next 5 hours should show a lot - 24 hours is supposed to show how things are going. I'm still waiting on results from his carotid artery ultrasound, and he'll have another CT scan tomorrow.

Thanks for all the prayers and good wishes on facebook. They mean everything. I miss my family like crazy, and owe a huge thank you to my daughter Emma, who packed my overnight bag and put everything I needed in it. She really is a mini-clone of me sometimes :). Love you girl.

All About Me

2010-07-15T20:07:00.002-04:00

I had an interesting (yet exhausting) day.

We had group consultation and self care, which is where all the interns get together and work in a specific process to work through difficult cases, interactions, role play, or just get to share something. I got angry at something someone said. I noted that I had a strong reaction and shared it (not a join, a difference, says the process), and let the rest of the interaction play out. I had to leave the room at the end. I was in tears, and couldn't bring myself to move to the next part of the group.

I spent some time in the chapel crying, and then called my husband, and questioned my whole calling, then I went to lunch, had an interesting phone call (more on that later), and then met with my supervisor after I visited my floors.

He said, quite astutely , "Do you feel like you're doing CPE?"

Um, yep, I feel it.

He said, "Good, because you are really doing it."

I am discovering so many gender complications coming up this summer, working in a group of 5 men and 2 women. Finding a way to be angry and not feel guilty (or like a bitch) is hard as a woman (and for me specifically). I didn't have good role models for anger. However, my supervisor affirmed that I handled it appropriately, but allowed my own discomfort to "boomerang" and called it - I spent my afternoon feeling depressed and exhausted. My, he's a smart human being!

I did indeed spend my afternoon feeling depressed and exhausted, and he encouraged me to leave a little early and to do something nice for myself - to avoid even further boomerang activity feeling guilty and down about letting myself be depressed and exhausted all afternoon. Really, he is a smart guy.

I did handle my anger appropriately. We are encouraged to get out of our "person" system - or in lay terms, to not get caught up in our own emotions only when in an interaction - and to be in an "observer system" where we can have some transparency between what we're thinking and what we're feeling, and can both observe, note, and interact with awareness about how our own past experience is informing the current interaction. Fascinating, exhausting, and vital for ministry.

I'm pretty good at it, actually, but that doesn't make it easy all the time. As a matter of fact, it has a way of making me question my own authenticity, when I am feeling one way and noting it, and yet able to stay in a pastoral role (which is authentic, but it just feels weird afterwards).

In any event I realized that when I do the loving-kindness part of my meditation each day, I have never once started out with L-K for myself (?)! I find it difficult to do it even now that I'm aware of it. I have a decent self-image, yet I have a hard time even figuring out how I feel about this. I find it quite bizarre actually. And uncomfortable to send my own self L-K. But I have to. I see that.

So lots of good growth and such, but yeah, I'm exhausted.

My phone call that I mentioned earlier was good .It was unexpected - someone checking in with me to close a loop that made them uncomfortable. There was an attempt by that person to triangulate, which I was able to deflect, and it was all really positive. And I realize that it's all about me.

That person I got angry at? Not what they said, or how they said it. It was my past experience that created an authentic reaction to it. My ability to honor someone reaching out to me and also deflect some negative behaviors is about me too.

I'm growing, becoming, and well....seeking. Yes, I'm doing CPE.

Life experience

2010-07-11T13:29:00.000-04:00

A large part of CPE is understanding and being open to how our personal life experience informs our interactions with patients. My supervisor asks us to think about Who Am I? Who is the Patient? Who are we together?

When I walk into a room, I bring not just my role, but my life with me, whether I share it or not. The patient's interaction with me is based on their experience with religion, spirituality, authority, illness, prayer, etc. And those two people create a whole new experience that will inform future interactions.

This is true outside of CPE too, of course. My interactions with people in my life which have included abuse, violence, alcoholism, love, support, etc. all play into my day to day life. CPE has pointed this out to me in a variety of ways. I have had stories from other chaplains move me to tears because they touched my own story in some way. I have met with patients and family, and have felt protective and even angry on their behalf - or at them due to my own past.

An awareness of how our experiences moves inside of us at all times is vital. It doesn't have to define us any longer, but it certainly informs us. Recently, I had a family member that I spent about an hour with, and they drove me crazy. They were misinformed about a number of things that I am familiar with, they were sexist, uncouth, and immature. For some time, I warred inside myself with my desire to find some way to gracefully exit the room, but knew that the people in the room needed me. At one point, I was feeling pretty useless, but still holding the energy, holding as much love and peace as I could, and the person turned to me (they weren't sure they wanted me there initially), and said with great warmth, "It really does help to have you here."

Well, that's why I am doing this work. Because despite my own history and reactions to people, my intention is to be pastoral and loving - it felt like a real win to have been able to acknowledge my feelings in the moment, face head on my desire to leave, and to stick it out with intention and love, and to have it validated! How powerful.

In non-CPE life, I am having a lot of these same reactions to a variety of people, and I'm trying to hold that same intention. i keep reminding myself, that just as I don't get paid to put up with stuff in real life, I don't get paid for my internship either ;) (that's a joke!) Intentionality in life is a daily practice - it's easier sometimes in the specific atmosphere of chaplaincy work, but it's good training for the rest of life.

Sleepless in Strong

2010-07-10T18:57:00.000-04:00

Wow, what a night. I find that on-call shifts are so intense when they are busy. I had 10 pages between 4:30pm and 8:30 a.m., only to sleep between 6 and 8a.m. By the time I left, I was totally drained. I had 4 traumas, including two violent incidents, one which was quite disturbing. I had a tragic fetal death - my first infant death, which I have been dreading. The baby was so tiny - 2 lbs - and perfectly formed. It broke my heart and I was grateful that the mother was sedated - at least there was a short delay in her grief. She woke up briefly and asked, "Where?" and I filled with sorrow for her.

The NICU and trauma staff are amazing. I have found such wonderful relationships with the medical staff. The social work staff is a bit more ambiguous at times. Especially in the emergency department, I often feel unwelcome, or at the very least, drastically misunderstood. We are often seen as walking with death, something I don't feel at all. Often my role is to simply hold the energy in a space - to provide presence and silent affirmation of the important work and emotions at play there.

I also had 3 deaths, at which I sat with families, prayed, and even cried with them. I had a family member agonizing over treatment of their sick spouse.

"What should I do?" was the question of the night, straight from raw grief. "What comes next?" "This sucks." "How do I go on?"

I don't have good answers for these questions. I know that grief is overwhelming, that it can only be dealt with a day, an hour, a minute at a time. Sometimes it threatens to drown you.

On-call shifts leave me feeling vulnerable and raw myself. No sleep plus giving every ounce of my spirit to room after room - 20 patients and families in 24 hours - leaves me filled with gratitude for my own health, my family, and my inner resources. It also leaves me depleted and too tired to figure out how to do more than weep sometimes. I am generally good at leaving it at the hospital, but I agonized a bit this morning before finally falling asleep at home, safe in my own bed.

Even before the night, we had a long morning of reflection and mid-unit evaluations. It got a bit heated at the end, which was difficult for me to witness. But I continue to feel blessed at having a great group of interns to work with. It is easy to be authentic with them.

I'm useless today - worked online for a bit, ate some cereal, and am going to veg out with some 24 episodes. Self care after all, comes in many forms!

Silence

2010-07-08T20:40:00.000-04:00

I haven't been posting much. Burning the candle at both ends, but I'm still here. I think of all the things I'd like to write, but my brain is on overload with CPE didactics, and all my patients that I see, plus my part-time job in the evenings, plus parenting. (Which is So Much Fun, because Jude is learning to READ! So exciting!)

Anyway, I've passed the halfway mark of CPE. It seems like I've been there forever, and also like no time at all has passed and I can't believe it will be over before I know it. In some ways, I wish I could continue on and do a full year residency now, but I'm also very much looking forward to my congregational internship.

I just can't say enough about how thoughtful and intentional the CPE program is at URMC Strong Hospital. I'm learning so much, being challenged by my supervisors and peers, and growing in many ways. I now have some patients I've been following for over a month and those connections are deep.

I am finding my passion again, after the exhaustion of the first year of seminary - my excitement and joy at serving. It's just that it's also taking up all my energy. I will be ready for a vacation before traveling to Chicago again in September!

The kids are surviving remarkably well, and actually have a better routine now then when I was in school. I hope to keep the momentum up in the fall!

Anyway, I'm brain dead, but maybe I can focus again over the weekend!

On becoming

2010-06-23T13:47:00.001-04:00

I remember when I first went to visit a spiritual director as part of small group ministry that I was involved in two years ago, and I told her, "I have done so much growing already...it's sometimes frustrating when I get glimpses of how much more I have to do." Chaplaincy training is another place where you face that realization just about every day.

Another conversation that ended up being very true was when the student chaplain at Meadville Lombard told my triad group (my triad met weekly for course work, and met with the chaplain monthly) that seminary was in a lot of ways a way of breaking us down into small pieces so we could put them all back together again - theologically, emotionally, sometimes even physically, due to the intense need for self care.

When I was a child, I was Catholic, and I had transcendent experiences of God. I had faith in a supernatural Father, and I prayed to Him, and felt His presence in my life. At some point though, existential questions of suffering in my life, and perhaps even a biology of atheism, took away that personal relationship with a Christian God (and it was always a relationship with God, not with Jesus, or even Mary, which is perhaps why it was so natural to become a Unitarian Universalist).

I continued to have transcendental experiences in my life - moments of becoming, of growing, of mystical connection with other people, with nature, with something more - and those experiences are what keep me an agnostic, that make me a person who is aware of the unknown, and of possibility, while still subscribing to Occam's Razor. In a recent post about prayer, I explored some of my thoughts about prayer as a person of non-traditional faith, and I refound this quote that spoke to me. As a religious humanist, I am a cosmic theist, in that I believe in the transcendent immanence of God, which some might call panentheism. However, I have not felt that personal transcendent experience of God (and I realize that is a loaded word) very often as an adult.

I remember being about 10, during the Cold War, and thinking about how infinitely stupid adults were, as a I lay awake, fearful of bombs falling on my house or my school. And I remember an image of physically tucking that thought away into the back of my 10 year old mind, and telling myself that I would never forget to realize that adults were stupid. That we complicate things unnecessarily for ourselves, which results in all sorts of negative consequences in our lives, our social networks, our world. More on this later.

This morning, when I was meditating, I felt God (again, that loaded word, especially for me, as an agnostic) as a presence. I believe in connections, in something greater than the sum our our living, aware parts. And that not only showed up for me this morning but has been with me, as a presence, in the room, all day. It's kind of frightening actually - I mean, I actually thought, perhaps I am having a mental breakdown of some sort ;).But, I am a levelheaded kind of gal, and I am pretty sure I know how this actual feeling of presence has come back into my life.

For some time now, I have been wrestling with prayer, my love of Catholic tradition from my childhood, and with how to make my daily spiritual practice more meaningful, which I have, through ritualistic meditation each day. But it hasn't been until the last 4 weeks of chaplaincy that I have prayed, really prayed with people. And the part where being as a child (as Jesus himself would remind us) comes in, is that it doesn't have to be complicated. I don't have to get caught up in the words God, or Jesus, or Christ, or heaven, or sin. My role as a chaplain is to be present with people, to help them be, to serve with humility. It doesn't really matter what I believe in that moment - it matters that I can connect with that person, and that we create something through our relationship in that moment. If I can let go of my baggage about semantics (and as a writer and editor for many years, many that know me well will know that's a difficult task), and just be in the moment of wonder and (God) and creation, then that has the potential to become transcendent.

This prayer that I have been engaged in and wrestled with, and felt awkward in and powerful in - that has changed my spiritual practice. Again:
"When I pray, the humanist in me is patient but nonplussed, asking who I think I am talking to, and I reply that I don't know, but I do it anyway, my breath casting words into the seemingly unanswering air. Perhaps it is only my need to make the universe personal and intimate. I know myself to be a personal and intimate being, and it seems not totally impossible that the powers which cast me with these qualities, which enables me to be both rational and poetic, may be the same as I, writ large." -- Frances E. West

Humanism is a based on reason and compassion - but that religious piece of humanism does not have to exclude God (or at least I take the liberty as a UU to say so).

And the question is so what? Why do I do this ministry? Now that I can catch my breath in week four, when I can think again about congregational work, community work, and chaplaincy, it becomes very clear that my moral authority as a minister is in not only becoming more authentically myself, but in journeying with others in their own journey of becoming. It's about right relation as a position of moral authority, and about radical hospitality. As a ministry, radical hospitality is breaking down that sin of disconnection that is the root of so much human pain and suffering. Ministry is about finding a theology that makes sense of that sin - not in the sense of predestination, or bargaining with some higher power, or even understanding it - but making sense of it and figuring out how to live our lives that we have the best we can.

One day, I dropped my son off at his Waldorf program and one of the church staff (where we meet) was being (in my mind) quite rude to a new mom who had parked in the wrong place. I was pretty ticked off about his behavior, and my son's teacher, Lynne, who is just a gentle saint of a woman, put her hand on my arm and gently said, "He's doing the best he can." In the moment, that answer didn't feel like enough, but now it does. Ministry is about helping people do the best they can, without judgment and with humility. And that includes me. Sometimes the best I can do doesn't feel like very much, but that's OK sometimes.

Systems of privilege

2010-06-21T21:38:00.000-04:00

I completed my first 24-hour on-call yesterday, and my friend David did his on Saturday. Between the two of us, and our colleague Mike, it was a violent weekend. I read with interest the local blog about riding with an ambulance as well.

I was driving my daughter's friend to our house today (we've got two friends spending the next day or two, which is amazing fun), and she was interested in what I am doing. She asked me, astutely (and desperate not to sound racist), if a lot of the patients who were victims of violence were people of color. And that is astute, because as we talked, we explored the interconnected systems of privilege that create a situation of violence and inequality.

There is of course, race. And perhaps more importantly, class. Access to education. Income. Access to jobs. Affordable housing. Trust (or lack thereof) in law enforcement. Jaded social workers. And the frustration that comes with all of these issues, creating hair trigger tempers based on a lifetime of living with less - and being looked down on all the while. This is one of those conversations that is inherently depressing, because it becomes difficult, if not impossible, to see a solution. It reminds me of the need to lower our expectations - yes, lower them, as Sharon Welch tells us in A Feminist Ethic of Risk. Because each small success is so important. And it's vital not to get burned out.

Today, in didactics, we had an interesting discussion about the NYTimes article regarding pacemakers as well. It occurs to me as I travel the hospital, that our technology, meant to save lives, sometimes creates ethical situations that turn a culture of healing into a culture of life with questionable quality.

I love ministry so much. Walking next to someone as they become. That is the gift. Midwifing families not through birth, but through death. That is a privilege. It's a hard choice - being called. This process of discernment about my path will be at least another 3 years in the making. But I can feel myself becoming. I am 10 times the minister I was 3 weeks ago.

Now if I could just get some inspiration for the 3 sermons I have to write to preach this summer. Time is running out and my brain is mush. One would think that I would feel passionately about so many things that I could write about them to share with congregations. But honestly, I'm just tired. A good tired though.

Prayer

2010-06-14T20:38:00.000-04:00

This morning, I led the morning prayer on... prayer. I had a section from one of Anthony Bloom's books, which I now seem to have misplaced, on the importance of prayer coming from within. The importance of authenticity. These are things I have been reflecting on quite a bit, as I am called to pray with and for others on a regular basis. At first, I felt intimidated by the seemingly easy, and well-known prayers of my more traditional Christian colleagues.

I have also found solace and comfort in sharing the prayers of my Catholic childhood with patients. The woman I visit who can barely speak but works so hard to ask me for the "Our Father." How could I not see the joy it brings her to hear it. Or the Psalms. There are so many of them that offer comfort in our darkest hour.

What of our own readings that our faith has claimed? Or our own heartfelt prayers? I am trying to collect a little book of them, and it's so helpful to those in times of need, and to me as I minister to them. It is amazing to me how powerful prayer is. It's not something I've used as a spiritual practice often over the last 25 years, but it's fascinating to reclaim it as a tool of ministry.

Prayer has layers and depths that I never wrestled with theologically until now. It's a fascinating journey.

A Theology of Wonder

2010-06-11T13:38:00.001-04:00

In the morning light
I am sometimes offered a moment of grace
A moment when I become aware
of how very small I am
in the expanse of sky above me

I become aware of God
in the arc of the universe that I can sense
but not see
I feel a cellular response within my very body
as if my physical, most primordial self
can sense its microcosm too
in the face of my inner universe

Sometimes I see the mother and her spotted fawn
lift their heads in alarm
as I walk by in that morning light
Feel that they are closer to God
in their connection to the grass, the earth, their trails through the woods
than I will ever be
With my intellect, my complicated emotion, my desire for understanding

Simple grace is standing in that moment of awe
Knowing that death is around any corner
but that life is right here
waiting for me to take that next step
into it

Walking with Life and Death

2010-06-09T21:09:00.000-04:00

Everyone told me that Clinical Pastoral Education (CPE here on out) would transform me. I have only begun to touch the surface of that I think. I had my first on-call shift last night and was up most of the night with families. My daylight hours were mostly spent bolstering hope, praying with families, and finding supports and answers, even in the face of dreaded news.

The nighttime is when I walked with death though. Most of the night was spent honoring those that had passed on to the next part of their journey, comforting their grieving families and being present to the losses that we face in the darkest hours before dawn.

After an exhausting night, we presented verbatims, and I am so grateful to our amazing and subtle supervisor. He has a gift for bringing out the gifts that are inherent in our growing edges. The opportunities that we have are what he sees in every interaction, not to dwell on what could have been, but how to become more present, honor the sacred, and enhance our self awareness in every interaction.

On my way home, I had more time to reflect on my relationship with death, which has up till now been one of awareness but avoidant fascination. Last night I walked with that personification of death, felt its breath, watched its hand fall on three people, felt the awesome fragility of the veil between living and dying, between breathing, and the cessation of breath. I witnessed the awesome power of our human technology and its ability to bar death from entering, but only temporarily. I also felt the simple and profound power of prayer - something that I do not formally do very often, but what was what was needed in many moments. Prayer brought comfort and peace, hope and faith, to those whose path I journeyed with for a time yesterday.

CPE is transforming, mostly in the sense that it forces me to tear down the very last walls that protect me from the reality of the fragility of life, and the distances we go to hold on as hard and long as we can. It is really a gift of gratitude and humility. Death is good at teaching humility. It is indifferent, but not cold. I will learn to walk with her, so that when she touches me more closely, I can hopefully understand her a little better. And when I walk with healing and light, I can respect her decision to wait, just a little longer.

Loss and Grief

2010-05-31T22:11:00.000-04:00

In less than 12 hours, I begin my intensive CPE, Clinical Pastoral Education, at a large hospital in Rochester.

Less than an hour ago, a woman I have known for almost 15 years lost her 18 year old son to drug abuse and violence. Please, read Henry's story. Share it with your teens. Hug them tight in gratitude for their grace and beauty. And light a candle for Katie and her family. Katie's wisdom and wit led me through the difficult early years of parenting. Let our love lift her up during this time where words can never suffice.

Sandwiched

2010-05-30T14:20:00.000-04:00

Like many of my contemporaries, I am part of a sandwich generation, simultaneously parenting young (and not-so-young) children while caring for the needs of aging parents.

I went home to central PA this week to visit with my family for the first time since Christmas. My little kids adore visiting their grandparents, and I look forward to stealing some hours to visit a couple of dear friends and their children.

It struck me, really struck me, how time is passing. I am no longer a young adult (duh). My parents are aging and struggling with illness. Balancing the needs of my children while visiting with them was enlightening.

My mother has always been (and considered ) a handsome woman. But the last 10 years have not been easy on her body. I really saw her with fresh eyes this week, as she needed to be helped out of the shower. This woman, whom I spent years hating, and still avoid at times, and who has defined so much of what I have become in spite of her, is old. She has mellowed a bit. She is overweight and on oxygen 100 percent of the time. I helped her put lotion on her back, and then her legs. She had beautiful legs, in her day. Due to Bowen's Disease (which is not usually malignant, but is in her case), she has sores all over her legs, as a result of too much sun, and arsenic poisoning. She also has developed an autoimmune disease, which has left her legs and arms covered in other sores and rough patches. She has severe diabetes, and cares greatly for her feet. I rubbed lotion into her feet, taking the time to massage them for her.

My father is adored by my 5 year old son. He never let go of "Papa George's hand and prattled on and on. My father is in the process of being tested for prostate cancer, and has moderate to severe dementia. He has survived aneurisms, accidents, heart attacks. Jude and him are a good pair. They talk to each other, but don't really care about the response, just needing a warm hand and a listening ear. Lucy climbed on his lap, and it brought tears to my eyes to see how much they love him and accept him as he is. That's not an easy task for the older girls, who dislike the dementia unit at the nursing home and are made a bit uneasy by the overly friendly overtures of the women patients. We took my dad out to Red Lobster, because Jude remembered how much Papa George loves it. It was a fun meal, and my dad had a great time.

It was hard to come home. My 14 year old was ready, after 4 days. She told me, "I know this is your home mom, but it's not mine anymore." That about broke my heart - I would move back in a heartbeat. I am homesick for the mountains for weeks after a visit. Happy Valley is a charmed little place, privileged, growing, transforming. I miss my house there, my friends, Spring Creek, bike riding. I miss my friends still. But there are things I love about the Finger Lakes.

Being sandwiched means that when I took a vote on whether to stay another night or not, and I was the deciding vote, I put my own love for home aside and put my children's love for their home first. So here we are, back at the ranch, so to speak.

Next week starts a new chapter in my life, and I am a little anxious, but ready. The joys and sorrows of being in the sandwich generation will inform my compassion and love for those who share this journey.

Attending Church

2010-05-30T14:05:00.000-04:00

Today I went to church, not as RE assistant, but just as me. It was the last day for our ministerial intern, David Messner, and he gave a hell of a sermon. I felt inadequate afterward ;). What a gifted speaker he is!

The sermon was about taking those liminal moments - thresholds - where you are in a time out of time and can see into the windows of your life. About taking risks and living the life that calls you. And you know what, I felt really good after that. Not a day goes by (with gratitude) that the hard work of my own transformational experiences and callings is on my radar. I am following my calling, I am parenting with love and intention, I am attempting to be in right relation with the people in my life despite the daily challenges of that. I am a work in progress, but I'm aware of it, and in it.

I hope that I can maintain this ability to step outside my life and see the opportunities and growing edges. One place is in finding the joy in each day. It's easy to get caught up in daily living and chores and necessities. But in some ways, my children are such a gift because they make me laugh right out loud every day. They bring tears to my eyes with their kindnesses, honesty, and deep loving humanity.

Every day I pray that I can live into a theology of joy. It's harder than I would have thought, but it has so many little gifts that enable even more joy to enter into my life.

Listen, Open, Serve

2010-05-30T13:49:00.000-04:00

That's the mission of my congregation. I've done a lot of personal transformation on listening - both to myself and others. I'm getting really interested in the Serve part, and we had an interesting conversation in Wellspring about it a couple of sessions ago.

What does "Serve" mean to you? Is it a burden? A gift? Fulfilling? Martyrdom?

How do you serve in your life and why do you do it?

How is it a part of how you live into your faith?

Libertarianism

2010-05-21T17:34:00.000-04:00

I have always been a bit of a nonconformist. I think that's why people who knew me as a child (but not as an adult) are surprised that I am going into ministry, though I think becoming a UU minister is pretty nonconformist!

Lately, I have been feeling constrained by a preponderance of rules in the world. Often, this is the speed limit ;). But some of it is just how one has to get "special" permission for so many things. And so many rules are made to deal with common sense issues, that are not always black and white.

Currently my town code enforcement is driving me crazy. They want me to get rid of my chickens because we technically live in residential zoning, not residential-agricultural. However, RA zoning says that you can have chickens if they are more than 200 ft. away from another residence. Even though we're R, our chickens are WAY more than 200 ft. from another residence, because we have 2 acres. The zoning officer told me I could file a variance and promised to send me the specific code so I could use it to fill out the paperwork, but he didn't.

Then yesterday, I got a letter saying that we had to get rid of the chickens and he wouldn't ALLOW a variance. And, he said it would cost $75, but there is no list of variance costs, let alone the codes themselves online. I think he just made it up, as there is a blank line on the form to fill in the variance fee. Shouldn't there be a specific amount for variances? I mean, the FINE is only $25 but they want $75 to file the variance?

I am feeling ridiculously up in arms about this, but am doing my best to remain super-polite to the code officer. It seems that he is on a bender in our neighborhood and other neighbors have felt his wrath as well. One of the joys in living in small town America I guess.

Anyway, this is the kind of thing that makes me want to be a Libertarian. And things like making kids wear shoes at the Museum of Play. Or in the archeological dig at RMSC, where your shoes immediately get filled with recycled tire bits, which is supposed to be dirt. Or having to park facing the "correct" way on the street (I got a warning about this on my very rural street in front of my house two weeks ago!). Or random age discrimination, like not allowing minors to volunteer at lots of places. I could go on but I'll stop.

Gratitude for Vitamin D

2010-05-20T20:35:00.000-04:00

Now folks, this was the perfect first summery day. 80F, sunny, clear, and I got to sit on a blanket and soak up some fabulous Vitamin D with some dear homeschool mama friends at the park. I feel like I have so little time for friends this past year. I am missing having a tight girlfriend that I can just be myself with, and laugh, and drink a little wine, and whine, and unwind. If some of my fellow students were closer, then that would be a given, but alas, we are spread across the continent.

I am finally able to work in my summer office, and am sprawled across the futon, pug snoring by my side. Kids are fed and bathed and ready for bed. Laundry is folded and dishes are done.

I will have a busy weekend ahead, all filled with sun and warmth. My last day of work at First Unitarian of Rochester is Sunday. Bittersweet, that. I am also grateful to go back to being "just" a congregant. It has been a journey of strange, this last couple of years, what with seminary and work and church. I am in many ways happy to be going back to a single role where I can be a member and attend services. I hope to continue with small group at some point, but I will have to see what my fall schedule looks like.

In 10 days, I start CPE, and my days of soaking up the sun are mostly over, but for weekends, for this summer. But it will be worth it! Summer reading schedules are being posted, so with CPE, work, and fall prep, I wonder if I will have time to breathe? Regardless, I will soak up every second of family time and be grateful for it.

For all my colleagues going through these transitions, I send a massive group hug!

Ebb and Flow

2010-05-19T13:44:00.000-04:00

Yesterday, I got a migraine. I have been having a really hard time managing them; the last few months, they have lasted for several days at least once a month, and the medication has had some really unpleasant side effects, aside from not working really well.

For the first time, I got a combination of meds to work, with the only side effect being that I needed to sleep them off. Today, I am feeling hopeful that I broke it, and it won't come back this month! So I woke up happy to shower with the light on (no aura!), and took the kids to a play, which was really cute and they all behaved themselves.

I came home to find out that one of my FA forms went missing and I didn't get FA - I have a call in to find out wth happened. Then I found out that I had two unauthorized charges on my checking account for iTunes - for which I don't even have an account. Had to go to the bank, fill out forms to maybe get my money back, cancel my debit card...UGH. I am so used to the ease of having a bank card and not dealing with cash or checks. This sucks.

I came home from the bank and cried. So frustrated!

I am hopeful that the rest of the day will improve. Tomorrow's supposed to be awesome weather and I plan on spending it at the park or something nice with the littles.

Now work, then more chauffering. Hoping the sunshine cheers me up.

UU Salon: May - The Soul

2010-05-15T22:35:00.000-04:00

Over at UU Salon, they want to know: Does it exist before we are born? Does it disappear when we die? It is unchangeable, or capable of growing/shrinking/strengthening? Can you lose your soul, or gain one?

I have refrained from reading other posts on this topic until I had time to mull over my own thoughts and get around to posting something. I really like this idea of posing questions to the blogosphere and then compiling them. Nice use of technology and community!

So onward. Does it exist prior/after life as we know it? An interesting story: When I was exploring neopaganism, I loved the story in Circle Round (or at least I think that's where I read it, but I'm too lazy to get up and look) about how our souls all get mixed into this great cauldron and each time a new baby is born, we get a little bit of everyone in our new soul. During this time, my mother was driven to distraction by my "atheism," refusing to come to my wedding a few years before, etc. due to my lack of religious beliefs. I remember telling this story to my kids when they were little and loving it. Anyway, my mother is now in her last years. Her health is very poor and we've been talking about death and dying. I have always seen her as this pretty traditional but non-churchgoing Christian until the last few year, since I entered the journey to the ministry. Since then, my grandmother's Irish pagan roots seem to be coming out. My mom tells me stories of celebrating the wheel of the year, etc. But she blew my mind last month when she basically, word for word, said that the cauldron is what she thinks happens to souls when you die. Could have knocked me over with a feather. She just laughed and said her mother's beliefs are catching up with her (her mother was a seemingly devout Protestant, FWIW).

Basically, the whole notion of matter and science and energy is why I am not a full-blown atheist, but rather an agnostic with a theistic bent. I like Deitrich's cosmic humanism - I believe that God, or what I would call Soul, is immanent in everything, and I have a hard time letting go of my faith that there is some intrinsic part of us that remains as some sort of energy and is passed on into other things - perhaps mingling with the very stardust of which we are made. It's probably just some unlikely concoction I've dreamed up in my limited understanding of physics and such, but I love the idea, and it brings me a lot of comfort.

I think that your soul can change because it's energy, according to my theological view of the soul. I think that what we do impacts the energy that we emit and contain, and if we do things that are evil, that will change our very essence. It's where my moral authority comes from lacking the presence of God.

Lilac Festival

2010-05-14T22:09:00.000-04:00

I don't have pics off my phone yet, but we had such a great day. I took the morning off of work and took the three youngest kids to the Science Museum. Jude (5.5) has decided that this place is more fun than the Strong Museum of Play, because there are dinosaurs there. He wants to be a paleontologist this week. We dropped off some clothes for a friend, and off to the museum!

They had a great time and enjoyed watching the new Brain exhibit going up for May 22nd. We can't wait to go back and see it live! We had a picnic lunch out on the lawn, and then went to pick up my oldest at her science lab at the University of Rochester (science Friday for all!). Oddly enough, her lab was also on the brain - they got to work with cat brain matter (can you say ewww?) and did some diagnoses from real case studies.

Then we were off to the Lilac Festival. Honestly, it was a perfect opening day. The lilacs are still out though are starting to fade, but it was sunny and around 70F after a rainy, cool morning. We met up with a friend and her kids, and then the teens met up with some other teens and wandered off for awhile. Much tree climbing was done by all, and I am exhausted from pushing 70lbs of kids in the double stroller. We went on the little train and the carousel; smelled the flowers, and then were off to the final performance of the girls' Waldorf program plays!

Soren was in a performance of Prometheus. Disaster! We got to the school, and realized that her costume, in a shopping bag, had been passed on with the other clothes we dropped off earlier! Many tears - but Emma to the rescue! She had a toga and tunic for her role in Antony and Cleopatra (turns out Soren like it better than her original one!). BUT, Emma forgot to give her dad the video camera, so no video of the performance. Oh well! Another dad took vid, so I'll try to get a copy.

I had already seen the oldest class perform Antony and Cleopatra on Tuesday and WOW. Emma was Octavius Caesar. I can't believe this is her last performance there. I am so sad that she is graduating :(. Off to community college next year for her first college classes, and we are going to start taking Zumba together!

Anyway, both performances were awesome. Lucy and I left early to get her to bed and now I am supposed to be working but wanted to give a quick update as I've been absent. I'm enjoying my time off from school and am doing mad spring cleaning.

Hallelujah!

2010-05-07T15:23:00.000-04:00

Last paper turned in. Last assignment turned in. I am waiting for one final evaluation to be turned in and one final class phone call (tomorrow) and I am FREE for 3 weeks! Three weeks! I am going to read and clean and read and watch back episodes of Bones and 24, and read, and sort clothes and garden...

I have 3 weeks left at my job as RE assistant and then I intend to spend the summer attending services and preparing my first sermon at MMUUS while I do CPE.

Celebrate!

Waking up with Jude

2010-05-05T10:07:00.000-04:00

Jude climbed into bed with us in the middle of the night after a bad dream. He always pushes me half out of the bed, so between him and the dog, it was a bad night. But this morning, we woke up and looked at each other. I was NOT awake yet, but Jude was ready to talk.

Jude: Know what's weird?
Me: You?
Jude: Weirder than THAT!
Me: What?
Jude: Snow White lived with seven little men! And then eight! That's weird. Seven little men.

How am I supposed to wrap my head around this pre-coffee?

In other news, one final project is done. One to go. One that I am totally unmotivated to write and is due in two days. Urgh.

Good grief

2010-04-28T17:25:00.000-04:00

First of all, a mother and writer I have known via parenting lists for years, and with whom I did one of my favorite journalistic interviews with ever in my writing career needs prayers. Her teenage son is in critical condition in ICU. Prayers are welcome.

Also the young kitty that adopted us/has been hanging around on my front porch the last week also appears to be quite ill. She's got very little color - I suspect yet another case of feline leukemia, though she must have come to us like that. NO MORE CATS for 6 months! She is quietly enjoying the warm sidewalk in the son and is very quiet and weak. I can't afford to take her to the vet, and don't want to drop her off at the shelter, so plan to keep her as comfy as possible over the next few days and see what happens. She's eating, but is very thin and lets me examine her with no fuss (not a good sign).

At they gym doing a final project for school while the kids are in class. Feeling grateful for my babies and hugging them tight.

Full Moon

2010-04-28T09:36:00.000-04:00

I do not understand the full moon phenomenon around here. We lost a chicken several months ago during the full moon because she wouldn't go into the coop. Then we lost 2 last month during the full moon. Two nights ago, a weasel got in to the coop and killed two chickens (our bad, the coop wasn't shut tight). Last night, the stupidist chicken wouldn't go into the coop but roosted someplace else. Thankfully, we found her safe in the yard this morning. However, our last remaining cat got hit by a car last night and I found him dead in the yard this morning. We have a little white cat who has adopted us, that Emma calls Mary, and she still is hanging around. But geez, we are having bad animal karma lately. It wasn't so long ago that our other cat crawled under the porch and died.

Our new puppy has to go to Cornell next week to have her back leg checked out. She seems to have some sort of neurological problem and is using it only intermittently. GAH!

The good news is that the board of trustees at May Memorial voted last night to bring me on as their student intern minister from Fall 2010 to Spring 2012. I couldn't be more thrilled :).

The faces of ministry

2010-04-26T09:14:00.000-04:00

Ministry takes many forms. Yesterday, I got to experience some of them all wrapped into one day.

In the morning, I filled in for our DRE and ran children's worship at both services. It was SO much fun. We read Henry Builds a Cabin and I had the kids play the roles. We built a wonderful cabin, and meditated on the simplicity of spring flowers and their needs, and what we would have to give up to live in a simple and small cabin like Henry built.

I ran up and down the stairs and elevator with all the RE stuff so that our RAIHN guests could use our regular space, and it felt good to do that extra step - to be part of the behind-the-scenes work that helps that ministry run smoothly and create safe space for families. I got to check in on all the classes and see what the elementary teachers were doing and it looked like so much fun! My two oldest daughters volunteered their time and energy. Emma has been teaching the 3 year olds every week for about a month now and loves it! Soren helped me run the first children's worship, and my friend's daughter helped for the 2nd service. To see their enjoyment in helping was a wonderful feeling.

After cleanup and tallying attendance for the office, I rushed off to the teen shelter. I spent some time watching a movie with about half the kids. They all identified with it in some ways and it opened up conversation with kids and staff about gang activity and bad neighborhoods in our own city. I did some behavior management with some kids who have not been taught boundaries - challenging, but it offered some opportunities for peer leadership. I spent some time processing the year with my supervisor, and processing another client's issues with staff. A client came in after dealing with extreme violence, and it was striking to me to compare my work of the morning and the cheerful faces of my church kids (not that there aren't issues at work there too), with this kid who is facing more medical care and a lifetime of recovery from the emotional trauma of her experience.

Home again to the bosom of my family - popcorn and snuggles and bedtime and time with my husband. It was a nice end to the day. I feel so blessed to have my supportive family to come back to.

SLD Assembly

2010-04-24T22:01:00.000-04:00

So I'm home now and winding down from the St. Lawrence District Assembly. Last night, I drove into Syracuse and attended the Josephine Gould Discourse: “Twittered, Tweeted and Still Lonely — Choosing the On-Line Church” by Rev. Linda Hoddy of the UU Congregation of Saratoga Springs. I really enjoyed the thoughtful discourse on technology and ministry. There were three responses - one from my friend, Rev. Kelly Weisman Asprooth-Jackson, one from Rev. Richard Gilbert (who as minister at my congregation forever, but I started attending right after he retired, so I have never actually met him, though I aspire to take his UU Polity course at CRCDS one of these days) and one from the DRE from the Albany UU, Leah Purcell, who I had a lovely talk with today.

This morning's keynote speaker was Rev. Robert Latham, and that was the highlight. He spoke convincingly and passionately about the importance of mission and the need to prioritize it over things that act on our mission. He made me want to become that evangelistic UU minister that I am probably too nervous to become ;). His intro by Rev. Tom Chulak was absolutely hilarious, and was a spoof on the song Davey Crockett.

I didn't get either of my first choices for the two workshops, but I enjoyed the second one, which was by a fellow Meadville student, Andrew Mertz. I hadn't met him in January but made sure to introduce myself after the workshop. He was an engaging speaker and the topic was pertinent to my interest in youth, and looking ahead to starting some campus ministry at Syracuse University (anyone who as resources for this should feel freely invited to send them to me!). The first workshop was a watered down repeat of a class I took in January, but with a focus on RE. I have no idea why I signed up for it as a choice at all, but I should have snuck into my first choice. Only because I had already been over the material, so it wasn't a good use of my time. Certainly was a good topic for others though!

Our District Executive, Rev. Chulak, is retiring, and his closing words were quite moving. He seems to have done a great job during a difficult transitional time nine years ago, and the District board is obviously vibrant. My former boss/current friend Jan Gartner is newly elected, and I know she'll be a fabulous addition. She's got great energy and I heard firsthand how happy some of the members at First Universalist are to have her as their DRE this year!

Tomorrow, I"m leading Children's Worship since my boss is on the Coming of Age trip to Boston (lucky!). I'm reading a story called Henry Builds a Cabin (Thoreau, ya know). It should be fun. I have to think of a fun thing to do for the greeting! Unfortunately, Jude won't be there again :(. Tom's work van broke down totally yesterday (losing a day of work too), and it looks like we will be van shopping on Monday (with what money, I have no idea - perhaps the tax return will magically appear? Or my long overdue paycheck from corporate America?)

This coming week I am very focused on my two final papers. I need to write a sermon based on Mark 1:9-13 - the baptism and appearance of the Holy Spirit. Inspiration/ ideas for a UU spin are more than welcome.

Cute note of the day. Jude said, "Tell me something funny. I appreciate a good joke!"

SLD Assembly

2010-04-23T22:53:00.000-04:00

I am attending my first district assembly! There was a relative who's who of ministers from the area, which was fun to see. My colleague and friend, Rev. Kelly Weisman Asprooth-Jackson gave a response to the lecture on technology and ministry which I thought was brilliant.

Prior to the evening's events, I went out to dinner with two ministers and talked shop, which was excellent. Tomorrow will be two sessions - one on multiculturalism and one on technology. Then a business meeting and I'm serving as a delegate. So far, that means that I get to wear an extra badge on my name tag ;).

Off to bed - it's an early drive to Syracuse tomorrow. If anyone is going, look me up!

Update on Internship

2010-04-20T20:57:00.000-04:00

I spoke to all the appropriate people and it seems like all will be well :::whew::::

I have been feeling like a Margaret Wise Brown story lately. Any guesses which one? And brittle to boot.

But finally am feeling centered again, and ready to finish this semester and move ahead.

Things have been running smoothly at home lately too, which helps. Onward!

Form, Formative, Former

2010-04-15T23:26:00.000-04:00

My year long internship at my community site is drawing to a close. I am already grieving and plotting ways to stay on as a relief worker, though I don't know when I would possibly have time.

I have come to love so many of the teens I've met and talked with; they return over and over because their needs are often not met right away because of our bizarre system that seems to fail kids over and over despite the best of intentions. One of my favorite kids was sent back home this week. It is breaking my heart. I really wish I could bring him home with me for the rest of his high school years. He has touched me and my life so deeply. I am afraid I will never find out if he succeeds in finding a better life before he becomes jaded and chooses worse coping skills. Last week he was practically sitting on my lap, needing love and a mama, even though he's bigger than me and pretends to be a tough guy.

Another of my favorite teens is back this week. It seems like things are moving in the right direction, but who really knows? I would bring him home with me in a heartbeat too. He would drive me crazy but I would love him anyway. What's different about that than my own kids?

I talked to a beautiful young woman who wants to be a doctor, but who will be lucky to finish high school at this point. She has a lot of challenges ahead of her. Her baby daddy isn't interested and her mama chose a man over her.

I am so in love with this work, with the staff, the kids, everything. I will be lost without "my" kids. I have tried not to get too attached, but my heart tricked me in the end. I am broken up about leaving.

I know CPE is next, and then internship at church - those will fill me up and teach me and form me in other ways. but I will will always carry these other people's babies with me. I have nothing but hope and love for them.

Still Healing

2010-04-12T18:08:00.000-04:00

I think the best piece of advice I got from all of this RSCC stuff is from my friend Amy, who took the time out of her own current struggles to remind me that it's about the call, and the rest is just work to be done.

That, and the humor, love, prayers, and support of friends, family and colleagues has been amazing. Now that I am over the "shame" of being postponed for candidacy, I have found many other brilliant seminarians who have had a similar experience, with similar questions, and I feel lifted up by our shared journeys.

I continue to process, pray, and move ahead. I met with a psychodynamic therapist last week and we got along fine. I have an appointment with a financial planner in May, and it looks like my job is secure for the rest of this year, which is good news financially, as I am taking a hit someplace else.

After a period of pulling back, I am re-engaging with email, phone conversations, church, and friendship. My facilitation work at church has truly been a lifesaver for me, as have my classmates who have reached out over and over to make sure to connect and offer love. One of the questions in my RSCC interview was "what have you given up?" in this journey that is all-encompassing. I realized that the main thing is time with friends. Time to have coffee and talk about kids, and homeschooling and husbands and gossip. I am meeting one of my best friends in a few minutes and I can't wait! It has been months since we got together and that is a loss.

Our new puppy is doing well; still having an accident or two each day, but she is snuggly and sweet and great with the kids. I'm adjusting to very early walks that are necessitated by her tiny bladder, and to sharing my bed with a tiny creature who cries if left behind. She takes up less room than the kids do though!

My hand is healing slowly. I have a lot more mobility today for the first time but am struggling with some scarring that is limiting. It is wonderful to shower without a plastic bag though!!

I am getting ready to delve into the final month of this academic year. I have two final projects to do, and a learning plan to present to the board of directors at my proposed internship site on the 27th. I am attending the SLD conference next weekend which should be excellent. I am also serving as a delegate for my church.

The flowers are blooming, I'm getting an itch to start my garden, and I am looking forward to my two weeks off in May to spring clean and rest before CPE. I am dreading being away from the kids full time but am holding on to the idea that next summer will be quieter, with perhaps a couple of weeks in Chicago.

Back to Galatians and Philomen!

Authenticity

2010-04-02T23:01:00.000-04:00

It's been duly noted that I've been absent from my regular journaling for awhile. Perhaps not writing, but certainly not mentally absent. Just not really sure how authentic I should be, in an ironic twist.

The last 2 weeks have been a time of inner and external turmoil; probably some of the most frustrating and reflective days I've had in recent times, and that's saying a lot, considering that I do a lot of reflection!

Last Monday I met with the RSCC, who determine whether I get the go-ahead to the next step - from ministry aspirant to candidate.The upshot is that they postponed my candidacy for a year, which was very disappointing. Two main issues that stand out for me are:

1. I was not perceived as being authentic until near the end of the 30 minute interview, at which point they saw the person they were looking for. I was trying to portray the professional and capable side of myself during the questioning, which was intensely personal, and at times felt invasive. It is ironic because this was my first real interaction with the professional side of the denomination, and at the end of the day, I did not feel supported in my journey to ministry. Even though there was no indication that the committee felt the need to deny me candidacy, but just to postpone it, I left that building not knowing who the heck they saw, if not me. I have been given strong recommendations, excelled in academics, and pushed myself to take on leadership opportunities. Somehow, that group of people saw someone else that was not well represented by the paperwork they reviewed.

Unfortunately, my career assessment paperwork took 4+ months to be processed, not giving me enough time to comment on it before I had to approve it due to the deadline for paperwork. The very thing that concerned them is the very thing that I would have asked the center to edit had I had time. My relationship with my mother continues to haunt me, though it no longer defines me, just informs who I am.

The ironic part is that I now find myself feeling less able to be vulnerable, and am not even sure that this is the right path to be on. That is not what the committee said, but how I feel. Once I work through my Kubler-Ross stages of grief, I"m sure I'll make lemonade out of lemons.

2. My finances were a huge issue, which I was blindsided by. And the upshot is that I left there angry that the very denomination that is talking the talk of economic, gender, racial, etc. diversity does not seem to be walking the walk. Postponing my candidacy will cost me thousands of dollars in grants and scholarships that are not available to me this year as an aspirant. I will also be held back a year and may not be able to get into the MFC in my final year of school. That will cost me a year of job searching. There didn't seem to be any recognition of this fact, or even forethought, that some of the recommendations they made, and the postponement will put me in a longer term, more precarious financial situation. I feel quite personally hurt by this, in terms of the faith I have put into our denomination spiritually, and also have some crushed idealism about whether we are capable of changing.

Regardless, the recommendations - CPE, counseling, financial planning, etc., are all good things that will help my ministerial formation; however, I could have done all the same things as a candidate, and have ended up in better financial shape at the end of the whole process. I already have an appointment with a new therapist, and a financial planner. I'm a can-do kind of gal.

I wasn't sure how transparent to be about all of this but you know, it seems like a good idea. I'm not perfect, and feedback is good, even if I don't agree all of it. Maybe another example of my ambivalence toward authority, but it's something I have to deal with, and they are good people who want to make good ministers. Nobody I've talked to really seems to be able to understand it, so maybe I just had a bad interview. The next one will be better. Though I have no idea when or how to set that up, since the whole system is changing in about 6 weeks. :::sigh:::

The interview came on the tail end of two of the worst migraines I have ever had, one of which I drove to Boston with. My physical health has been an issue lately. After that difficult experience, I had to have extensive hand surgery a few days later, which has kept me mostly off the computer except for school and work. I still have a mid-term in process that is a week overdue and spring chores are calling my name. I am in a cast and already ripped half the stitches out of my finger, and am not dealing well with the whole healing process.

I saw the doctor (again) about the migraines and am on a new daily medication plus an acute migraine med. I spent 3 days after my surgery intentionally allowing myself to mope and rest. I watched a lot of 24. I did a lot of nothing and I am better for it, but now I'm ready to move on and my hand won't let me. I'm still having a lot of post-op bruising, swelling and pain (despite my attempts to do very little), and I'm out of patience. I have to wear this cast for another week.

My dad, who I am guardian for, has been having increasing health issues, and I am getting several calls a week from the nursing home lately. I'm trying to finish this semester, prepare for 11 weeks of full time CPE starting June 1, and be present and available to jumpstart my fall internship, should it be approved next month.

In the midst of all this, my independent contract job is causing me additional headaches. I was hired in January and have not yet gotten paid. Legal is holding everything up with contracts, but my bills aren't getting paid, and I just found out I am looking at a $300/month shortfall in another area. I feel utterly defeated tonight. we are already stretched so thin that I can't really imagine how to make that work and I already anticipate all the fun pushback I will get from my older kids about sacrificing more. They may say they understand, but that doesn't mean that I won't pay the price for it in other ways both intentional and not.

So, that's where I've been. I'm tired, and depressed, and not feeling very good about my path, my body, or my ability to function like a responsible grown-up today. I know it will all work out, but man, I am really tired.

So I want to write, I want to connect, but my soul needs to hibernate. Catch up. Rest. And there's just no time for that. I try to be pretty PollyAnna, but I'm feeling like it's OK to feel like crap right now. Everyone will just have to put up with me for a couple of weeks .

That said, I have a lot of people in my thoughts and prayers. Breathe in peace. Breathe out love. I am grateful for spring days, fresh eggs, smiling children, a loving husband, and a comfy bed.

Spring, spring, spring

2010-03-13T10:05:00.000-05:00

I started shopping for a new pair of sneakers a couple of weeks ago and couldn't find anything I liked. I last bought a pair of good Nike sneakers about 7 years ago, and they are shot. The backs are all broken down (this is why I tell my kids to untie their shoes!), and they are all stretched out and squished down and ewww!

But all the sneakers I looked at looked enormous on my feet, and I hated the colors (pink and purple are apparently the colors women like currently). So I decided I would have to spend a little more since I couldn't find anything reasonable that I would wear for the next 7 years. I finally, after a hideous shopping trip with four kids, one of whom desperately need a nap, came home with these:

When I put them on my feet, I literally said, "aaaaahhhhh!" They felt sooo good. I can't believe how much lighter technology has made shoes since I last bought sneakers. Even the New Balance ones I tried on felt good, but these were like heaven. So I came home with a new pair of sneakers that I love. Now, if it would stop being wet and muddy outside, I could wear them a little more!

In other news, we had a series of days a couple of weeks ago where we didn't get any eggs from our chickens. I searched all the usual places, but no dice. Yesterday my husband discovered about 15 eggs in the old kitchen cabinet we keep on our front porch for our cats during the winter months. Yuck! Then we found one in the front yard! These chickens are weird. That reminds me though, I have 2 fresh eggs in my jacket pocket that I need to go put in the fridge.

Speaking of cats, I noticed the other day that our very old cat, Angus, who lives outside because he likes to pee on the bath mat, was very, very thin. He has long hair so I hadn't noticed until I picked him up. I got him some tuna fish and he went to town on it - I wondered if he had been having trouble eating hard food, though it seems as if he were eating regularly, according to my daughter, who feeds him every day. He had had major dental issues and doesn't have very many teeth, but he didn't seem to have any major issues when I checked him out the other day, other than the thinness. We bought some soft food and he ate a tiny bit the day before yesterday, but then yesterday he was gone. I've looked everywhere for him. Under the porch, in the chicken coop, in the garage, under the trailer...nada.

I am afraid he was sick and went somewhere to die. If the rain slows down, I"m going to go look for him again. Poor kitty :(.

It is a rainy, April-ish sort of day. I overslept - when I woke up, Lucy was watching a video, and Tom was long gone for work! Couldn't believe I slept through all that. I guess I'm making up for that hour I will lose tonight. I keep expecting it to get cold again, but weather reports call for high 40s and 50s all through next week. Awesome! I am disgusted when I look outside though - everything is so muddy, and the yard is a mess, and there is junk everywhere. I am in spring cleaning mode and can't do anything about it! I seriously want to rent a dumpster and get rid of TONS of stuff!

The next couple of weeks are going to continue to be busy, to wit: pre-op appointment, two scholarship essays, one mid-term paper, RSCC interview in Boston, meeting with my teaching pastor, and hand surgery for a bone spur on the 26th. Then it's spring break, haha! I'll be finishing financial aid info, working, and preparing some info for my church's board so I can apply for sponsorship (assuming I get candidacy from the RSCC).

I am holding on to the picture of the last two weeks of May before CPE starts full time plus for 11 weeks ;).