Waiting on the Third ...

I am 9 weeks pregnant. Yes, I am. Joy abounds and wonder fills my thoughts and I think how I will mother 3 children under the age of 4.

Chad and I had been discussing having another child. I found peace and direction and wanted to take the next step of finishing our family. I always wanted 3 children and I could see my life making room for one more as we minister in Ivor. This place is perfect for us and for our family as we seek to do ministry while caring for the needs of young children. I love working at the church, and Ivor allows me to do that. I am gathering experience and a greater understanding of my strengths and weaknesses. Chad comes home for lunch, we get to spend time together, and we minister together at Ivor ... regardless of whether I am officially a full-time staff member. But that isn't important to me right now. And that is the truth!

Chad and I have the long-term goal of co-pastoring one day. One that I am NOT ready for right now. I don't want to leave my children during the day - I love being with them!

This little new baby is so exciting. If I can get through this overly sick period we will be good. Chad is awesome at helping around the house. It seems like everything makes me sick. I go on Thursday to see the baby's heart beat and find out a more accurate due date. So exciting! :-)

I watched Julie & Julia last night and was reminded that I have a blog. Yes, I do.

So I visited, and once again was blown away by my writings. It was a good blown away. It's good to see how things have changed!

My concern about God's presence as I wipe butts, has all but disappeared. I do feel the occasional, "These kids are driving me crazy!" but overall, I find a lot of peace in where I am.

Surprisingly, I found the most peace from Lent, and then the Great Commission. I decided it would be great if our church embarked on a Lenten study. I chose "Forty-Days to a Closer Walk with God". It was focused on practicing centering prayer. I found prayer during those forty days.

I discovered my closet. Whenever life became too much I would enter my closet. Sit on the floor. Close the door, and allow the clothes to drape over face. And then I would speak. My voice would go right into the clothes and come right back at me. It was nice to hear myself speak my deepest worries and concerns. Most of the time it brought tears to my eyes to hear myself even say the words. I told God all the things I was feeling. Sadness. Embarrassment. Fear. All the emotionally vulnerable words that we never want to admit to anyone else. But for some reason I felt that God wanted to hear them from me.

In those moments the cheesy "God answers prayer" actually came true. As I told in honesty how I was feeling tingles would run through my body and peace would rise up within me. My tears were refreshing and cleansing, and I found new understanding. The direction that I found was often only, "Chill out Melissa. It will work out". Other times, by admitting my feelings, I gained greater understanding of others and they weren't as much of a threat or scary to me. The overwhelmingness of being a mom seemed to disappear and I realized, it wasn't that they were difficult, it was only that I wanted to maintain control in an uncontrollable situation and I was feeling inadequate.

Then came the Great Commission. I was preparing a Sunday School lesson for our kids at church. As I taught it, I began to hear the words directed at me. "Go into the world, making disciples of all nations" The lesson was to help the kids understand, that even though they are children, they have a job to do. No matter where they are, they have a job to do. They have God given gifts to use and they have no excuses. As I heard myself preach these words to the children I thought, "What is my excuse?" I thought of all the work that I do with the children at church. How I am making disciples of them. I thought of all the time I get to spend with my children and how I am able to train disciples of them. What a gift! I began to realize that I am exactly where I am supposed to be and I have nothing to feel ashamed of.

I love my children more than I can explain. I have found peace in relishing the time that I have with them. I have reconciled the "call" that I believe God gave me with being a mother. Many would think that choosing to be a mother over a full-time ministry position is a cop-out. I have heard these conversations before. But the truth is, I am not living their life. I am living my life. As long as I can hear the voice of God speaking to me, then I am ok.

In this newfound peace, new opportunities and lessons have abounded. Things happen and I am affirmed. Life is Good.

Just found my blog again.  It's only been 4 years.

I graduated from Candler with my MDiv a year ago.

Two babies later and a move to Virginia, and here I am!

As it has been and always will be, I am in deep thought about my current circumstances.  I am not longer a MDiv student contemplating the divine, but I am ministering to the people of Ivor in between diaper changes, preparing food, cleaning, and (still) trying to keep my mouth shut when it matters.

I enjoyed reading my earlier posts. How I long for the old days!

As with us all, when we are in the midst of life and our current circumstances, it is difficult to see the light at the end of the tunnel.  

I try to savor my daughters and their "special" age, but the frustrations get old and I long for a different form of engagement.  I am certain that I am not alone.  So between texting my best friend in Ivor (who is also a mom) I find comfort in knowing that I am not alone.

God seems distant.  Only because it is difficult for me to know that God is with me.  For one thing, I have no time to even think about God.  Secondly, I still struggle with God as no more than an old bearded man (so much for my $30,000+ education) who never physically took care of a 11 month old and 2 year old at the same time all by God's self - how can he know what I am going through?

Has God ever had to grocery shop with the two terrors?  One climbing out of the cart seat while the other stands in the cart basket (which is a big no-no according to the directions on the cart!).  Has God ever had to make dinner with a baby clawing and attempting to climb up God's leg while cooking with hot grease?  I don't think so.

The tasks are so basic, yet they are frustrating and scary and difficult and stressful and overwhelming!  And because they are so basic, I can't even imagine God being there, or even caring.

I know that God must care more about racial injustice, poverty, world wars, ... you know the big stuff ... not changing diapers.

So I feel alone.

Not that I need God so I can change a diaper - but at least I could feel as if I weren't alone.  That the person that I am, and used to be, still exists.  Even if I give all that I am to my girls, there is still something left because God is there reassuring me that I am still me.  Just a more well-rounded me (in more ways than one)!

Maybe that's the beauty of God.  God is there. In it all.  Even in the basic.

I have to believe it, even if only occasionally.

"A Day in My Mind"

gay rights, black voice, Jerry Falwell and Clayton King, women pastors, pregnant mothers, homeless shelters and hunger ...
politics, crucifix, worship music, fundamentalists ...
party hardy, raise money, smile, invite people to church ...
politically correct, innerrancy, greek philosophy, computer disks
write papers, print papers, take notes, and read.
do your homework, be open, learn from others, be understanding
feel overwhelmed, feel sad, be tired, be proud.
be humble, be respectful, keep your mouth shut, tell them what you think,
eat right, hurry up, walk fast, ask questions,
give a hug, disagree, work it out, pray.
ask forgiveness, keep it all balanced, be everything, offer answers,
look to God, stay on track, don't worry about your family, be in the moment,
don't look too far ahead, just get some sleep, take a break, things will work out in the end,
walk the dog, do the laundry, cook some dinner, call your mom,
vacuum the carpet, clean the toilet, and don't forget to brush your teeth.
make some coffee, don't fall asleep, check your email, don't forget that appointment ...
and oh yeah,
write a paper on your call to ministry and then explain why God asked Abraham to sacrifice his only son Isaac.

It's too much to handle at times, I don't believe it will ever stop,
I've got 2 1/2 more years of this ...
what was I thinking.

"I Can Admit It ... I'm Overwhelmed"

It is only the second week and I can feel my head swimming. It isn't much different than my personal decision to read Paul Tillich's "The Dynamics of Faith" for fun! It turned into a thought-provoking examination of the intangible and unexplainable. It would ask questions like, 'What is faith? What creates faith? What must you have to have faith? Where does faith originate? How can everyone who say they believe in the same God, believe so differently?' These types of questions are not answered by Webster's dictionary, and you can not count on finding the same answer from two "experts on faith".
Similar to with that book, my mind is swimming with questions and thoughts that are too much to take.
I just had a very fruitful conversation with a fellow student about the desire to just sit in front of the television and think about nothing. I just want to watch a sitcom that deals with life, but not "real life". I don't want any of that reality TV ... even if people really believe that it is reality.

Me 

How much is too much to give?

As I am sure that all of you have experienced the shock that I have as I watch the news and see the footage of the devastation in Louisiana and Mississippi. From amazement that US citizens have lived in sewage for the past week, to sadness of human and material losses, to anger at the responses from the government and fellow US citizens.
My sensitivity to the situation has been increased mostly because I went through orientation last week for theology school. We would discuss events, hear speakers and theologians from all over the world, and I would go home and watch the news with different eyes. I found myself in tears several times as I watched people look into the camera and cry for help. I thought about the suffering and pain, and the feeling that I must do something. Our school had come together, and many organizations have, to collect supplies and money to be sent to the victims and communities that have been so devastated. When I think about it I am overwelmed with feelings of sadness and frustrated with the situation.
I was overcome by a comment made to me, thus this blog.
A person very dear to my heart, frustrated with his appointment to work in the devastated area, said, "Yeah, all those people are really suffering!" (with sarcasm!) "It won't be long, and they will have their checks, and $250,000 homes." Normally, I would have responded to such an idiotic statement, but I was in such shock, that I just sat there. After I overcame the initial shock, I said as loud as I could, "I DO NOT LIKE THE DIRECTION THIS CONVERSATION IS GOING!" My blood began to boil and I felt as if I were going to burst. Words could not describe the feelings that were inside me, and I could not seem to begin to explain how stupid, ignorant, selfish, and abousolutely rediculous that statement was.
The more I began to think on it, the more bothered I became with the statement.
His statement did not come out of anger for the suffering people, but his own understanding of what those people deserved after losing everything. It seemed to him, that getting water, clothing, medicine, and other basic necessities were enough for people who had lost everything. He believed that now that they had lost everything, they must take responsibility for themselves to recover, and God forbid that they come out of the situation with more that he has ever had.
I think that we as a society have a limit on what we are willing to give, and what is more, what people deserve. We become angry when a 40 year old person who has lived of his parents his whole life, is unemployed, drinks, and is lazy wins a lottery ticket for $1 million. Or the person who brutally rapes and kills a young woman, and is sentenced to jail for life, but is able to have his own cell, a color TV, 3 meals a day, and an accessible fitness center for his own enjoyment. Or in this case, a young African-American family who lives off of welfare checks, scrapes by day-to-day, is "stupid" enough not to evacuate the oncoming storm, and who yells in front of the New Orleans convention center for food, water, and transportation out of their hell. The fear is that family will be cut a check by the Red Cross or our government, that will meet their needs, but exceed the amount to which we believe they are deserving of.
I am perplexed by this idea.
I have to admit, that my heart hurts for these people, but know that I would be a tiny bit bothered if those families became the wealthiest people in our nation. That really bothers me that I feel that way. The issue is not whether that will actually happen, because at this point I am really more concerned with getting these people to a safe place, but it did raise questions to me about the extent of my generosity.
This blog is for me to raise questions that I know sometimes do not have answers. It also gives me a place to admit that I am not perfect, and not too far from other people in this world.
I am bothered that I have a limit on my generosity. I am bothered that I would even think in those terms.
As a Christian theology student, I am constantly provoked with the teachings of Jesus. How did he approach the poor? How much was he willing to give? Many of the conservative Christian evangelists would be quick to say, "Well, he DID give is LIFE!" So does that mean that I must be willing to give mine for those who suffer in Lousiana and Mississippi? I know that is a bit extreme, but we all have our limits!

"Is it Chance or Divine Will?"

As the summer slowly passes, I am trying my best to enjoy the relaxation and not dwell too much on the fact that I don't have a job or an apartment yet. In the meantime, Chad and I are spending time with family and friends. Today, we just had each other which was a lot of fun!

This past weekend we took a trip to Chad's parent's house in rural Jacksonville, Alabama. I love going there. His family is great. The only thing that I don't like is attending their church.

Both of Chad's parents are heavily involved and have been members there for over 20 years. They are very conservative but are surprisingly fairly accepting of ideologies that are different from theirs. There are times when I bite my tongue out of respect, but other times it seems to flow uncontrollably. Chad's dad in particular seems to graciously put up with my comments. We are very alike, and it seems that we have a special connection. Chad says that his dad confides in me things that he would never tell anyone else, and I really appreciate that.

But this Sunday really got me thinking. Chad's uncle was asked to speak for the Sunday sermon because they are currently without a pastor. (That's another story.) The family is from Alabama and were share croppers. As you can imagine, they are the typical southern rednecks that are proud of their upbringin' and tend to say words that most of us in the US have never heard before. I say this not to make fun, but because they are proud of who they are. For instance, when Chad's dad is outside the Alabama state line he always makes a point to tell others that he is from Alabama.

So anyway, Sunday was interesting. The sermon would be titled, "Standin' in the Pea Patch" if it had been officially titled. (I call it that because he said the phrase over and over again.) It was about Christians uniting together to form a bond and a support system for each other by praying to God and channeling his power for their needs. I thought the idea was somewhat good. I liked the idea of coming together regardless of denomination, race, or any other kind of divisive criteria, but I had a problem with the "God power" thing. The speaker's premise was that miraculous things happen when Christians come together, stand for what is right, and pray. He gave several examples of instances where someone was dying, or sick and Christians united to pray and ask God for the healing. The speaker believed that if our hearts were right and if we prayed hard enough that healing would take place. He gave an example of a baby that had been ill and how the church asked the community to pray for this child by advertising on the church sign. Someone who had taken a picture of the sign developed the print and noticed, what seemed to be, and angel sitting on top of the sign. It was not long and the baby recovered from its illnesses. This speaker believed that those Christians in that community that "stood in the pea patch" channeled God power to bring healing upon this baby.

I am bothered by that.

Both mine and Chad's parents lost a baby. Just last month a friend of ours lost their baby after it had suffered four months from a heart defect.

Did we not pray hard enough?

Did we not have enough faith?

Were "God's people" not properly situated in "the pea patch"?

I don't have the answers for life's horrible events. But I do that some pea patch analogy is not the answer. I am perfectly at peace not knowing the answer to those types of questions. I would prefer NOT to view God and my life as a supernatural battle where I am a "prayer warrior" for the good of those in the world around me. I don't think that God expects that of me. That is way too much pressure!

To me it seems that seeing an angel on top of a church sign is what people feel that they need to see in order to confirm that there is a God. They need signs and miraculous events to make their faith real. For example most televangelists promote this type of mentality. Just believe and be healed! Send us financial support and you will be blessed beyond your wildest dreams!

They are looking for a sign. Offering God tests so that they can have the facts that God does indeed exist.

I was also drawn by the way the speaker spoke. He shouted, demanding action, and used guilt to persuade the congregation of their need to get serious about their faith and be active "warriors". It must have worked because almost half of the congregation went to the front of the church for the altar call which lasted about 5 minutes. After they had prayed on the front steps in front of everyone, they returned to their seats, face towards the floor, red-eyed and crying.

It bothered me.

Is that the kind of life that brings them fulfillment? They work, sweat, and struggle all week feeling as if the world is their enemy. They then come on Sunday to receive their weekly "spiritual jolt" to get them ready for the coming week where they can repeat the whole process all over again. Sundays for them have become God's time to give them their weekly "whippin'" for actions committed and deeds that should have been done. All the while they are looking for signs that God loves them and cares for them.

The speaker even made the comment that because the congregation had attended services that each person was "due" for a blessing from God.

What the hell is that all about?

It makes me sad that some of those congregates have lived their lives that way for some 70 or 80 years. No wonder they sing and preach about heaven so much. There's a mansion waiting for me!

I have a hard time living my life and viewing God as a wish granter and an overbearing father. And I sometimes even wonder if my image of God changes to fit my needs and ideals. I personally don't want to be the type of person that uses guilt and punishment to get my way. I don't ever want someone to feel that they must bribe me for something that is within my power to accomplish. And I definitely don't want people looking for bright lights or signs that I care for them. I want them just to know that I care for them because they have experienced my love for them in ways that can't necessarily be proven but just understood. But then again I'm not God.

In regards to my faith, I don't believe that I need a sign. I have not had "a sign" in about 7 years and I think that is just because I haven't been looking for one. I know that any test that I put God through will always turn out the way I want it to because I will look for it, rationalize it, and determine that God has spoken to me. On the other hand, I have had events in my life that have been thought provoking and have caused me to do a lot of soul searching, and I believe that they have shaped me into who I am. Those events do not fall in the traditional category of "signs" but they have been important moments in my life.

The movie "Magnolia" with Tom Cruise presents an interesting question. Does everything happen by chance or is there some greater force making it happen? I don't know. I know that there is a scientific study that shows how molecules randomly travel and eventually they will find themselves smashing into something else. (I was never good in science, so I apologize.) I kind of think that people are the same way. There is so many of us all moving around going about our lives, but eventually we have to bump into someone. To me that is an encouraging thought. I like the idea that I bumped into Chad who is now my husband. I like that I bumped into my home church, several very influential pastors in my life, some incredible church people, and even a waitress job at a restaurant where I met some very different but good people. I'm not too sure that I can say that God orchestrated all of those events even before I was born. I'm not too comfortable with that. But I do know that I can have an impact on those encounters. I can make them good or bad. I like the idea that I may eventually bump into someone that might have an impact on my life that is much greater than I can imagine. Furthermore, I like the idea that I might bump into someone that needs the love and encouragement that I want so badly want to offer.

Sometimes rationalizing God in ways that are human lead us to creating a figure that is made up of all the faults that plague the human race. We are so caught up in evidence, in proof, in the tangible, and the explainable. Now don't get me wrong, I am not saying that we shouldn't learn, continue to search, and grow, but we can't lose perspective either. Albert Einstein once said, "The worlds problems can not always be solved by those who created them."