The Rest of the Story

I'll give you the details later in this post, but I'll get to the bottom line first: I decided to take the appointment. Beginning July 1, I will once again be a pastor.

After I talked to both District Superintendents, Harry and I spent the weekend praying and talking and discerning. I spoke with a few close clergy friends (poor Mac and Helen; they bore the brunt of my angst and questions. I think I called Mac about four times over the weekend) who offered comfort and wisdom. By Monday morning, Harry and I had decided to move forward with the appointment. I called Essie, and she scheduled a "Meet Your Pastor" meeting for the next week.

Then, on Monday night, Harry looked at me and said, "I can't do this." Meaning move to the Eastern Shore, live in a parsonage, and possibly subject ourselves to what we had experienced before. He changed his mind, but seeing his anguish made me question whether or not I should take this appointment or not. I spent a couple hours with Mac the next day, venting and processing, and he said something that made a huge difference: "before you call Essie and cancel the meeting, make a plan for how you will spend the next year." So, I began thinking and planning. I didn't really want to stay at BTUMC if Mac wasn't going to be there, and didn't know how the next pastor would feel about me. Mac's new church was still an unknown, so he couldn't promise me any sort of significant role there (plus, since it's the church I attended for a year, I knew that he probably wouldn't need me). My friend Prisca said that I could be an unpaid staff member at her church, and she even had a ministry opportunity for me. I also looked at a few part-time ministry positions on my current district.

But...in doing all of that, I felt somewhat depressed. I felt like I was back where I had been two years ago, when I was still discerning what God wanted me to do for the rest of my life. However, I knew what God wanted me to do; I knew what I wanted to do: be a pastor. And since Harry was willing to move with me and support me, I didn't feel like I had a really valid reason to turn down the appointment...besides fear. This was the first roadblock I had encountered in my process of returning to full-time ministry. Except for this one issue, I was getting green lights everywhere else.

So, with Harry's support and my sense that this was God's will, I met with the Pastor Parish Relations Committee of my new appointment. There are two churches, which I'll call Cherry UMC and Bayside UMC (C and B to be short). The meeting went really well...I think this is a really good match for my gifts, and the people seem very gracious. I like Essie (my new DS) and also like Daisy (my code name for my PPR chair).

We've seen the parsonage (it's OK, but we'll miss our home) and we're hoping to be able to rent our house to a friend who is moving to this area. We can't sell it, and really don't want to rent it to total strangers, in case they trash it. I have the kids enrolled in a local daycare/preschool, and they start on July 2.

I'm going to be a pastor again. While it is very scary, it also feels very RIGHT.

What Kind of Church Do We Want to Be?

At every Finance and Church Council meeting over the past few months, Mac has asked us, "what kind of church do we want to be?" As in, "what kind of church is God calling BT to be?" All of the issues we are dealing with revolve around vision ("it's all about vision, Patti. Vision leaks."**) and the finances are simply a good excuse to change the vision ("we can't afford a worship leader...or band members...or videos...or the community dinner that serves 100+ people every week...or the videos that wonderfully illustrate the theme of the sermon, etc, etc"). The real reason people don't want those things is because they differ from the vision THEY have for BT, and they are unhappy that BT is moving in a direction they're not comfortable with.

It doesn't matter that we've had a 20% increase in attendance over the past year. Or that we had the largest confirmation class in the history of the church. Or that our congregation is looking more and more diverse. Or that we had at least 20 visitors last week. Or that the vast majority of new members join by "profession of faith". Or that our pastor is one of the most incredible and visionary leaders I've ever encountered.

What matters to this group appears to be that they're happy with the status quo, with traditional worship and a homogenous congregation. They'd rather be financially stable and have things their way than be stepping out in faith, reaching out to the world, embracing different people and situations, and growing in love of God and neighbor. They'd rather be safe.

When I think about the question, "what kind of church is God calling BT to be?" I think of the song below. I posted the video and also the lyrics. Truth be told, I think it describes what every church needs to be...

**Mac and I have had a number of discussions about vision and leadership and what God is doing at BT. I've also noticed some things on my own, but I wanted to give credit where credit is due.

Title: All Are Welcome


Author: Marty Haugen

Copyright: 1994 GIA Publications

Verse 1

Let us build a house
where love can dwell
And all can safely live,
A place where
saints and children tell
How hearts learn to forgive.

Verse 2

Built of hopes and dreams and visions,
Rock of faith and vault of grace;
Here the love of Christ shall end divisions;

Verse 3

Let us build a house where prophets speak,
And words are strong and true,
Where all God's children dare to seek
To dream God's reign anew.

Verse 4

Here the cross shall stand as witness
And a symbol of God's grace;
Here as one we claim the faith of Jesus:

Verse 5

Let us build a house where love is found
In water, wine and wheat:
A banquet hall on holy ground,
Where peace and justice meet.

Verse 6

Here the love of God, through Jesus,
Is revealed in time and space;
As we share in Christ the feast that frees us:

Chorus

All are welcome, all are welcome,
All are welcome in this place.

All Things New

I changed the name of this blog. And the design. And the focus. Because you know what? I'm different. I'm not the same Patti who started this blog two and a half years ago.

I'm no longer angry at God.
I'm no longer angry at myself.
I'm no longer angry at the church.
I'm no longer figuring out what to do with the rest of my life.

I will always be healing from my experiences...and there will be others in the future. But I'm now at the point where my experience at SJ will only "inform" my future ministry...instead of "form" it.

I'm falling back in love with God.
I'm rediscovering my gifts and passions for ministry.
I have once again embraced the local church (warts and all) and am active in ministry.
I know what God is calling me to do and who God is calling me to be, and I am passionately pursuing that.

I am doing wild and crazy things that I've never done before, like a small group study on Harry Potter and agreeing to attend an awesome conference with three weeks' notice.

So, it only made sense for me to change things around here. I hope you'll remain on the journey with me.

Free Falling and Defying Gravity

 

I've always been a "safe" person. The sort of person who likes guarantees, whose actions are often based on the hope (and expectation) of positive outcomes, who does things so people will like her. I thrive on feedback, especially the positive sort. I don't like taking risks. And for someone whose chief spiritual gift is "Faith", I'm really lousy about stepping out in faith in my own life. 

In the past crazy eight months, that has been, slowly but surely, changing. First there was the decision to accept Mac's offer to preach. Then there was the exploration to return to being a pastor. Next, slowly but surely, getting more involved at BT and doing things without knowing what would happen: initiating relationships instead of merely responding to the invitations of others, becoming a part of ministries (like the Endowment Fund) without knowing if I'd be good at them or not. Finally, the biggest leap is coming up in about four months: when I will look in the face of my District Superintendent and tell him, "send me". 

Through all of this, I've come to rely more and more on my own intuition, my own authority, and my own faith in myself. Most importantly, I have come to rely upon God, upon my faith in God, and upon God's faith in Patti. It's wonderful and freeing while also being terrifying and agonizing. 

A huge part of this is my growing ability and willingness to listen to my "heart" rather than my "head". I am a feeling person, a relational person. My heart tends to lead me to be in relationship with people, to reach out to others, to use the gifts God has given me. Of course, following my heart occasionally leads me to put my not-very-big (6 Narrow) foot in my mouth, so my head does come in handy from time to time. I just need to allow my heart to lead and be informed by my head, rather than allow my head to call the shots. Because, when I let my head lead, I tend to over-analyze and be anxious, which creates distance between myself and others and causes me to second-guess my gifts, my abilities, and my instincts.

In so many ways, I feel like I'm free-falling. Like I'm defying gravity. Because I'm stepping out of my self-imposed safety zones. For the first time in almost 35 years of life, I am (mostly) basing my actions not on what I "should" do, what others think I "should" do, or how other people might react to what I do. Instead, my actions are based on what I hear God telling me to do, and my confidence in my own intuition and authority (and my ability to discern God's voice).

As I said, both wonderful and terrifying. Especially when it comes to relationships, which as we all know, are at the heart of ministry. Isn't it amazing to watch God work in our lives?

TRAIN PARACHUTE with LYRICS

This song and video, which Mac showed in church this morning, had me nearly sobbing. Watch it and you'll understand why...

Open Heart Surgery...Without the Anesthesia

When I was in seminary, a lot of people referred to the process of major spiritual change as "open heart surgery without the anesthesia." As in, God replacing our old heart with a new one, without the benefit of pain medication. It's a hard and painful process, but very worth it in the end.

That's what I'm going through right now...for the first time since seminary. It's part of my healing process, and it's gratifying to know that by embracing the pain and following God's will for my life, I am speeding the healing process along.

I met with Mac this morning, and it went really well. I told him the gist of my parish experience and the struggles and healing I've experienced since then. He listened, offered some helpful feedback, and prayed with me. No miraculous sense of peace, but a strong sense that I am where I need to be and am doing what I need to be doing. And also a strong sense of gratitude that God led me to this church, and to have Mac as my pastor, whether that be for the next four months or 16 months. He doesn't know if he's moving or not, but should know in the next few weeks. For my sake, I hope he doesn't (a new pastor might be a wild card where I am concerned: he/she could be very supportive or be threatened by my presence), but of course most of all I want God's will to be done, and that would be what is best for the congregation, for Mac and his family, and for the annual conference. We shall see what happens.

I don't think that the God 2 x 4's that I've been receiving via Mac's sermons will end anytime soon. That's OK. I'm willing to endure 4-16 months of 2x4's if they will lead me to full healing.

Re-Entering

I've been...out-of-sorts lately. Up in the air. Feeling tossed about. Yet, at the same time, feeling a spiritual peace and confidence that I haven't felt in years.

I know what God wants me to do, is calling me to do. I know that I want to do it. The "it", of course, is returning to the local church as a pastor. This is pretty amazing given that even three months ago I was actively looking for chaplain jobs and feeling pretty sure that I was going to make a career out of extension ministry.

Of course, three months ago I was still essentially giving God the cold shoulder and my spiritual antennae were fairly dull. These days, it seems that everywhere I go and everything I hear is pointing in the same direction: back to the local church, back to Pride Rock (see previous post). Even my pastor's sermons seem directed towards this, although I'm fairly certain that he's not preparing them going, "let's see, what pep talk can I give Patti this week? Screw the other 300+ people who'll be there, what does Patti need to hear?" But it FEELS that way sometimes.

Part 1 of my plan for becoming ready to be Pastor Patti again is to really and fully re-enter the church, specifically the congregation of which I am a part. We've sort of been pew-warmers for the past two-and-a-half years, and sometimes not even that (I can't tell you how many Sundays we missed when I was pregnant and Walter was a newborn). We haven't been part of a Sunday School class, we haven't been involved in ministries, we haven't really done anything beyond attending Sunday worship. I know, it's sad. I'm CLERGY, for crying out loud. It's just...sad.

So, this Sunday I'm bound and determined that we will make it to Sunday School and we will find a class to attend. It may take several weeks, but we will find a class/small group that we like. And we will attend it every week, along with worship. (Except, of course, on the Sundays when I have had a really rough night or receive a page after 7:00 a.m. Because, of course, I'm on call every Saturday night, from 9:00 pm to 10:30 am.)

Harry is gaining himself the reputation as Mr. Computer Fix-it in the church office. I'm sure he will find another niche for his (many) gifts. Our pastor (I don't know if I've mentioned this, but the more I get to know the guy, the more I like him. Not that I ever disliked him, but he's one of those people who's kind of hard to get to know. But he's an excellent preacher, apparently a good leader since he's been at this church for 11 years, and lest we forget HE LET ME PREACH.) has apparently put my name on several committees, including the Administrative Council. I may begin attending them in the near future, just for the opportunity to be a "fly on the wall" and learn from observation.

But first, before I attend any meetings, I'm going to do what I should have done months and months ago, perhaps even over a year ago: I am going to make an appointment with my pastor, sit down with him, and tell him my story in the most succinct manner possible. I will do that this week (you know, the week of the 9th). Or, at least MAKE the appointment, even if it winds up being next week.

And maybe after I spill my guts to him, he'll tell me if he's moving or not. Or, at least what the possibility is. (:

Can someone hold me accountable to the "meet with pastor" thing? Bug me until I say I've done it? Thanks.

Well, Now I Feel Better...

I made up with God today. After two-and-a-half years. It's not like I had stopped believing in Him (sorry, gender-neutral purists, I just feel more comfortable using the traditional language), or that I wasn't speaking to Him at all. It was more like I was giving him the cold shoulder, only speaking to say things like, "pass the salt" (or the theological equivalent).

About a year ago, I mentioned that I was angry with God. I thought admitting that would help me begin to work through the issues, but it really didn't. There were certainly moments when I felt God's presence and thanked Him (such as when Walter was born) and of course I prayed, both as a result of my vocation and for personal requests. But I was still keeping God on the outside (although that's pretty difficult to do, since God is omniscient and everything). My mom's cancer returning might have had something to do with my ambivalence, or maybe I was suffering from a "hard heart".

But things didn't get better. In fact, they seemed to get worse. I've felt like I've been in a fog since Nora was born, and it's gotten worse recently. I've been fairly snappish towards Harry and the kids, excessively anxious about things, and just generally depressed (and since I've been on antidepressants and ADD meds for nine years, that's something). I've been trying to figure out what to do with my vocation/family (I have to be ordained by 2015 or re-apply for provisional membership all. over. again) and wondering if I should try and be a pastor again or pursue chaplaincy full-time.

This preaching gig was probably what sent me over the edge. I'm excited, but anxious at the same time. I kept dealing with flashbacks to St. John's and struggling with those memories. I then got mad at myself that I'm still dealing with it over two years later. Shouldn't I be "over it" by now?

This morning, it was like a thunderbolt hit me out of the blue: I needed God back as more than a fair-weather friend, as more than a fixture on the mantle. So, I got home, put Walter down for his nap, and began looking for a Bible (of course, I have one on my iPhone and can access it on my laptop, but I wanted a hard copy in my hands). It took me 20 minutes to find a (non KJV) Bible, which is saying something about my level of spiritual vitality these days. Anywho, I found a Bible, opened it, and spent the next half hour or so in some QT with God. We talked, I apologized for ignoring Him, and I admitted that it's very possible that the Saint John's situation might have turned out better (or at least been less scarring for me) if I had indeed been having regular devotions/cultivating our Relationship.

It's amazing how well the rest of the day went. Nora did some of her same, annoying, three-year-old stuff, but it didn't bother me nearly as much. I was able to be patient and respond to her lovingly and (when necessary) firmly. When Harry walked through the door, I didn't feel like throwing the kids at him and running for the hills. We didn't snap at each other all evening. Finally, I'm feeling much more in control and less anxious about this preaching gig in 2 1/2 weeks. I'm still nervous, but I keep reminding myself that God has my back, and as long as I rely on His strength and not my own, I will be fine.

This probably sounds very unsophisticated and shallow, but it's heartfelt and since Harry is wanting to go to bed (the alarm goes off at 5:30am), I don't have much time.

One parting thought: all the time I was struggling, both during the SJ debacle and afterwards, not one of my clergy friends, lay Christian friends, or family members asked me, "how goes it with your soul?" Why is that? Why do we not ask each other the hard questions? True, I may have simply said, "Oh, it's fine." But, I may have been forced to look inward and make these realizations a lot sooner.

Liberal or Conservative? It's All Relative...

About a year into my tenure at SJ, I was in the middle of a conversation with my treasurer when he said, "Now ____, you're very liberal, which I guess is expected..." and then continued with the conversation. I was sort of shocked, and as soon as I hung up the phone, I burst into laughter. Me, being referred to as LIBERAL! Obviously this man did not know what seminary I attended or that some (misinformed, jump-to-conclusions) people think that because I am a graduate of the above-named seminary I am a raging conservative who worships the memory of Jerry Falwell (I am not and do not, by the way).

In reality, I consider myself a theological moderate, at least in the spectrum of the entire Christian tradition. I lean slightly towards the left on some areas (violence, death penalty, homosexuality, womens' roles in the church, etc) and slightly to the right in some other areas (abortion, sexual ethics, medical ethics, Biblical interpretation, etc). I'm fairly orthodox in my core beliefs but have a strong commitment to social justice, bringing Christ's kingdom to earth, being his hands and feet through the power of the Holy Spirit, etc.

What I've realized over the years is that theological perception is very much a relative thing. I know many liberal Christians who consider me to be "socially and theologically conservative" and will not hear an argument against it. However, I have also known several people who perceive me as liberal because I am a woman in ministry, am open to the possibility of homosexuals in ministry, am against the death penalty, and have a passion for those on the margins of society.

However, rather than be defensive when someone mislabels me as very conservative or very liberal, I've learned to just take it in stride and remember that a) I know who I am, what I believe, and where I stand and b) that perception is all relative, dependent on where you are standing.

So go ahead, call me a liberal, call me a conservative, call me late for dinner. I know however, that I am a MODERATE.

Well, THAT Only Took Me 18 Months to Realize...

It's amazing the realizations that come to us in the middle of the night, or the wee hours of the morning. Today, I had one of those realizations and amazingly enough, I still remember it and can blog about it.

I'm angry at God.

I've struggled with lots of anger over the past 18 months. I was angry at myself, then at SJ, then at my District Superintendents (both of them), then at my Board of Ordained Ministry, the Annual Conference, and even Harry (although that's not the case anymore-and since he reads this blog, I know we'll be having a conversation when he gets back from his overnight trip). But I had never even felt or even contemplated that I might be angry at God.

I think that the catalyst for this realization is Harry's trip up to his undergraduate alma mater to give a presentation on some fun math topic. See, in our original Grand Plan, Harry was supposed to be teaching at Alma Mater University after he received his PhD. He was one of the bright stars of the department; his former professor, mentor, and friend described him as the best student he's ever had. Every time Harry would visit during graduate school, key people in the department would do this "wink, wink, nudge, nudge" thing and ask him when he was graduating (with the understanding that they wanted him to come and teach). So, he would teach at Alma Mater and I'd serve a church in the area, and life would be Great.

The year Harry received his PhD (2006), there were three (3) full-time faculty positions available in the department. He applied for all of them, as well as at least five or six other faculty positions at various colleges/universities within the boundaries of my annual conference. To be "on the safe side", he also applied to three or four schools outside the conference. His grades were PERFECT, he was already published, had presented several papers, had excellent recommendations, etc. I expected schools to be fighting over him. Who wouldn't want my brilliant, gifted, hard-working husband on their faculty??

But that's not what happened. He went to a huge math conference in January and only got about five or so "mini-interviews" and of those interviews, he only got invited for TWO on-campus interviews, neither of which were in our annual conference. Alma Mater University never contacted him for an on-campus interview, and when he made some inquiries, he found out they were drooling over a bunch of people who had done post-doctoral research and seemed to care less about Harry (his former professor was quite incensed about this, by the way. Jim wanted Harry to come to Alma Mater as much as Harry did, maybe more).

So...he got a job offer at a small university about 70 miles from the border of our annual conference, and accepted the position. Then I had to make a request for an appointment as close to the VA/NC border as possible. Then I got appointed to SJ, and I now know that they had specifically asked for a pastor who was OLDER and EXPERIENCED (the opposite of me, in other words), and no one saw fit to tell me this until 18 months into my time there. My two years at SJ were probably the worst in my life so far (and it wasn't all about the church-my FIL died, my dog died, my mother got breast cancer, Harry and I were separated for six months while we had a newborn) and did severe damage to my reputation, my family, and my emotional health. I'm still in "recovery/healing" mode from all that and am scared to death to return to the local church because of those two years.

It really just feels that from January 2006 to May 2008, Harry and myself were the unwilling subjects of a massive amount of human and natural screw-ups. So much seemed like it was out of our control. And I'm just now realizing/willing to admit that I sort of blame God for that, and am just slightly angry at God for that. That awareness is both freeing and terrifying. It's freeing because I know it's a step towards complete healing. It's terrifying because I don't want to be mad at God and, as much as I tell others (and believe that) "it's OK to be angry at God. God can handle your anger. Let it out", the truth is that it just feels wrong to me...like lightning is going to strike me at any moment.

I could write more, but Nora is calling "Mama, Mama" and banging on the baby gate to her room, so I'd better go liberate her. We're planning a "Girls' Afternoon/Evening Out", complete with a trip to a local mall that has a CAROUSEL and a cool play area.

All Saints and Illness

On Friday night, we returned from a five-day trip to Disney World. I'll write more on the trip, but suffice to say that it was slightly marred by illness. Harry was recovering from a sinus infection and then came down with a stomach bug on our second full day. I came down with a cold on Thursday, our final full day. By the time we returned home, I was pretty miserable and by Saturday morning it had moved into my chest. Harry is still feeling under the weather and apparently has a virus of some kind. We're both feeling rather rotten. On the bright side, Nora appears to be feeling fine.

Anyway, it wasn't until about halfway through yesterday that I realized that it was All Saints' Day. This year, I've had three people in my life die. The first was Jack, a lovely man I went to Licensing School with and served on the same District for two years. The second was my friend Jim, another clergy friend. He and his wife (who is serving my former parish) were good mentors to me during my time at SJ. The third person was my grandmother, who died in July at the age of 92. This past weekend, my mother and her three sisters were down in Florida to inter and scatter my grandmother's ashes. Her wish was the half of her ashes be interred in her church's memorial garden, and the other half be scattered over the Gulf of Mexico. I don't know if they (meaning my mom and aunts) intentionally planned to do this over All Saints' weekend, but they did.

I am thankful for Jack, Jim, and Nani, and the way they touched and enriched my life, and the lives of others while they were on this earth.

Shock, grief, and a prayer request.

Please keep my friend, S, and her family in your prayers. Her husband, J, died very suddenly on Friday. He was only 55 and appeared to be in great health. I just found out this afternoon. S and J were a clergy couple and were a great source of support to me during my time in Danville. In fact, my former church, SJ, became a "cooperative parish" with S's church, Whitmell, so S is now the pastor of my former church.

This is one of those times when I'm reminded that our lives can end at any time and for any reason. I'm thanking God that J has claimed the promise of the resurrection and is in heaven, but I'm grieving that I and so many others have lost a friend. Most importantly, I'm feeling sad for S who has lost a husband, four grown children who have lost a father, and a church who has lost its pastor.

Pray that they will feel God's presence surrounding them, and that God will give them comfort, peace, and strength. Also pray for S's congregations, that God will show them how to support her and her family in this time of intense grief.

I am currently deciding if I am going to attend the funeral, which is Tuesday morning. It's a five-hour trip, but I could do it in one day if necessary. And since I'm on-call the night before, I have the next day off. Part of me really wants to go, as a gesture of love and support for S...and to say goodbye to J.

But--and here's where the selfishness comes in--part of me shudders and writhes in agony at the thought of going back to that area again. It was a source of so much pain, and I know I'd see lots of members of SJ at the funeral (or I'd expect to, anyway. If your pastor's husband dies, you'd damn well better go to the funeral if at all possible). There's the potential for re-opening of old wounds, both on my side and theirs. Do I really want to/need to deal with that?

Another aspect to this is: what would my presence at the funeral mean to S herself? I haven't heard from her in a few months (she may have been busy, what with two churches and a goat farm) and I'm wondering if the W-2 episode (see March's archives) might have caused her to be irritated/fed up with me. Of course, her father died in March and her daughter just got married, so I imagine that life has been fairly chaotic this spring/summer.

I have to make a decision by tomorrow morning, so I can make the arrangements to be gone if necessary.

If you were me, what would you do in this situation? Understand, I'm not asking you to TELL me what to do. I'm simply asking for your thoughts.

Thought-Provoking Reading

I was doing some "blog surfing" yesterday and came across a blog (and a post from that blog) that very much intrigued me. I've included the link below so you can read it if you so desire.

http://locustsandhoney.blogspot.com/2009/01/on-abnormality-of-church.html

I found the post very thought-provoking. It also had a lot of truth in it. Sure, it's a little one-sided and I disagreed with parts of it (or saw it from another perspective), but I found myself agreeing with a lot of it.

I am currently committed to remaining in the United Methodist Church and in the ordination process. The denomination would have to do something really major for me to leave. The UMC is my theological home; where I feel most comfortable. I am also very committed to remaining in the local church in some sort of role. However, I am fully aware of the many major flaws in both my denomination and in the local church (regardless of denomination). There are many times when I get so frustrated and angry with either or both of the above institutions and the people in them. That's why I found myself agreeing with some of what John said. I've been hurt by the church, also. However, I still stick with the UMC/local church because I believe in God's redeeming power working through individuals and groups. No one and nothing is beyond God's redemption, but it takes faithful and receptive individuals for that redemption to occur. Simply put, I feel called to be one of those agents of God's redemption, even if I have to wait until heaven to see the fruits of my labor. Is it painful? Yes. May I change my mind later (and leave the denomination and local church altogether? Possibly, although I hope not. Is it worth the pain and frustration? Yes, and that's why I'll keep working for and praying for redemption and transformation. The day when I say, "it's not worth it" is the day that I'll turn in my credentials and start a house church. However, I sincerely hope that day never arrives.

Clinging to the Rock in the Midst of a Storm

Above is a picture (that I now know is by an artist named Jean Guichard) that my husband and I have been drooling over for some eight years now. We keep seeing it at Christian bookstores, framed very nicely and fairly expensive (which is why we haven't bought it yet) At the bottom of the picture is a verse from Psalm 27: "The Lord is my light and my salvation; whom shall I fear?" Of course, the next verse in that Psalm is, "the Lord is the stronghold of my life, of whom shall I be afraid?"

I give God all the credit for getting me through my parish experience, and for bringing me to this place of healing. In the darkest times, when I felt so very alone and couldn't reach any of my clergy friends (for I had several who really encouraged and strengthened me), I imagined God holding me and keeping me safe in the midst of the storm. The thought of God being the Light who would show me the way, and the Rock on whom I could cling when all else failed, kept me going.

I'm very blessed in that I haven't experienced a crisis of faith as a result of my parish experience. I supposed I should clarify and say that my faith in God has not suffered. My faith in God's children certainly has...and I'm sure I'll talk about that at some point. However, I seem to have been gifted with a strong faith that is not easily tested. I am supremely grateful for that gift, because it has gotten me through many a tough time. Since I am only 32, I imagine that I will experience more difficulties in life, and my faith may be tested in new and different ways. I hope that the images I've mentioned here will continue to sustain me in my faith journey.