The Call of the Spirit

In my new call as Congregational Organizer for an ecumenical social justice non-profit, I’ve been doing a lot of reading as I prepare to develop a congregation based affordable housing program.  I’ve been reading an assortment of books that are putting voice to what I’ve believed and envisioned Christ’s church was called to be.  It’s exciting and empowering and dangerous and overwhelming to find that the Church, in all its’ humanness is falling so far short of what it could be with the power of the Holy Spirit.

One of the most voice-giving, affirming books I’ve read is  Doing Justice: Congregations and Community Organizing, by Dennis A. Jacobsen. (Fortress Press: Minneapolis.  2001)   Jacobsen says that “the church has a responsibility to point the world as it is, to the world as it should be.” (pg 11)  He goes on to say that:

            “Biblically speaking, the preeminent activity of the church is in the public arena,

not in the sanctuary.  The Holy Spirit calls and gathers the church and sends the church into the world with the liberating gospel of Jesus Christ.   The Holy Spirit
takes the church into the public arena so that the church can be the church…..
To resist this summons to public life is to resist the Holy Spirit.

The church enters the public arena because it is mandated to do so by the Great Commission of Jesus…  The primary concern of the church in the public arena is not to find more members to fill the pews of the sanctuary.  The church is sent into the public arena with the ethical imperatives of Jesus.  The church is to proclaim the kingdom of God over against the kingdoms of the world.”

I resonate with Jacobsen because this is what I believe about the church and this is how I pastored a church.  The congregation believed the church existed for them; that it was about them.  The church was more of a social club; a time to get together.  A place to be comfortable.  The church died.  It closed. 

This is the kind of church I want to be a part of.  A church that gathers on Sundays to worship our Lord and Savior.  A church that gathers for fellowship and communion.  A church that gathers to refresh, to pray, to fill.  And then a church that disperses and spends its' time being the church in the community.  A church that gets its' hands dirty in the messiness of life.  A church that speaks up to right the injustices of society.  A church that is merciful.  A church that is hospitable to strangers.  A church that truly follows Jesus and heals and loves with compassion and truth.

 

Being a church that does justice; that’s out in the world uninterested in statistical growth is dangerous.  It’s counterintuitive.  It’s out-of-this-world.  It’s upside down.  But then, so is the kingdom of heaven.

What do you think?                                

A Kitchen Table

On Saturday I went to a super-sized flea market called "The Funky Junk Sisters."  Now I had never heard of them until I moved back here but a bunch of my friend Carol's friends  have gone to Funky Junk Sister flea markets before.  They drive 2 1/2 hours to Portland to their flea markets and I've seen some of the things they've bought and it's the kind of vintage/distressed/shabby-chic kind of furniture that I love.  So, when I heard the Funky Junk Sisters were coming here, Carol and I decided to tag along.

I found a kitchen table. My kitchen table didn't make it from Casper so I needed one.  The table I found at the flea market is exactly the kind I imagined.  It's the kind that has the sides that can be down so that the table is small or up so that the table is larger.  It's old so it has character.  It's painted mint green but is very distressed - a little too distressed for a kitchen table so I'm going to sand it down and repaint it.  I'm going to look for four mismatched chairs and paint them all mint green and make cushions for them.  But that's not the point.

The point is, I have a kitchen table for when I have my own place again.  I didn't realize how important a kitchen table really was until I didn't have a place to live or a kitchen table.  A kitchen table symbolizes you have a place to eat.  A kitchen table is where  family can gather around; where we can be together as family.  A table is someplace where you talk and share stories.  Laughter and tears are shared at kitchen tables. Friendships deepen around tables while food is eaten and stories are told.

My daughters and I have prepared many a meal centered around the table - using the table as if it's an extension of the counter.  Since the girls were toddlers, sugar cookie dough has been rolled out and cut into shapes at every Christmas. and then they are frosted and covered with sprinkles - often with more sprinkles on the table than on the cookies.  Cinnamon rolls have been made on our table that we give to friends to say thanks for being our friends.  Corn flake wreath cookies with little red candies for berries placed on top have been  placed on wax paper covering the kitchen table.

But, it's not just cooking that happens at our table.  Our table has been the place for crafts... lots and lots of crafts were created around the table.  Science projects were born on the kitchen table.  And, you can't come to the Cato's without playing games at the kitchen table.  Phase 10, Scrabble, Quibbler...  we are a game playing family.

You see, a kitchen table is a big deal.  A kitchen table is a place for belonging; for yourself, for family and for friends.  You sit at the table for nourishment; whether it's food for your physical needs or food for your soul. When you leave the table, you are full.

A kitchen table is important.  I have a kitchen table now. Once I find a place to live, I have a place for family and friends to gather. Having a kitchen table is big deal.

Mom

I've been thinking a lot about my Mom.  On Sunday it will be two years since she died.  I still have her phone number in my cellphone contacts and her e-mail address in my e-mail contacts.  I can't bring myself to delete her.  I sure miss her.

I called her every week to talk; to check-in, to see how she was and to let her know what was happening in my life.  Sometimes it seemed it was hard to think of things to talk about and I would even make up an excuse of why I needed to go after a while.  I had run out of things to talk about with Mom.  I regret that now.  I wish so much I could punch her button on my cellphone and hear her voice.  I guess that's why I can't delete her number.

There's so much I want to tell her now.  So much I want to ask her; share with her.  Sometimes I'll just see something and think, "I should call Mom and tell her.  She'd love that."  I've even picked up the phone and dialed without thinking.  I'll cook one of her recipes and just want to ask her a question about it or order a meal that she loved and want to tell her how good it tasted.  I think about how much Mom would love to hear about Tracy's new apartment or Jessica's trip to Washington Dc.  She would be excited to hear about my new job.  She would love that I was living back here in Tacoma.  She would understand how much I love being close to the girls.  I want to tell her that I love her.

I help people grieve all the time.  I'm a pastor.  I know a lot about grief.  But it's different when it's your grief and it's different when it's your Mom that you are missing.  I know she's always with me.  I see her when I look in the mirror.  She's there when I make family recipes.  I hear her in things that I say and the way that I say them.  I sense her in things that I do and the way that I do them (darn you, Mom!).  

I love you, Mom.  I sure miss you.  

Friends

If you're like me, you go through life not really appreciating the right things.  It's not something intentional, I think it just happens because you get busy with life.  You get into a rut of doing the same things in the same way; keeping a schedule; doing the things you have to do and before you know it the day is over and then the week and then the month....  Well, you know!  So often we think we don't have time to do the things we really want to do because we are busy doing the things we have to do.

So often, the things I want to do involve the people in my life that I really care about.   I confess that way too often, it's friends that I don't [have] time for.  I'm busy - lots of responsibilities, I say.  I will call them tomorrow.  I will invite them next week when I have time.  But tomorrow comes and goes and so does next week and the people I love fade in the background, but the work never goes away.

My greatest joy since being back in Washington is being close to my girls.  Close enough to spend time with them; to be part of their lives; to get to them if they need me.  The pain of being separated never left my heart while I was in Wyoming and that emptiness is gone.  My family is together - even if Jessica is across the State and Tracy is busy living her life.  We are close geographically and every night I thank God for that. 

But I'm also rejoicing in reconnecting with friends and valuing relationships.  What fun to renew old friendships and catch up after four years away (one on the Washington coast and 3 in Wyoming).  Just today I sat down with a dear clergy friend and we talked ministry and church and dreams and Jesus.  Ironically, just as I arrive back, he's leaving for Minnesota but the renewal of our relationship was good.  We will stay in touch.

And, what I miss about Casper is not the places but the dear friends I left behind.  It's the friendships I value about my time in Casper and it's the friendships I miss; the people I came to love.  You know who you are.  I miss you!  I love you!

God created us to be in relationship.  God created us to love one another and to care for another and to be companions with one another.  We need each other.  

My prayer is that I won't allow myself to get so busy that I forget that.  People..... I need people.    Didn't Barbra Streisand sing a song about that?

That First Step

I've noticed that sometimes I'm so intent on being faithful that I'm afraid to take that first step; afraid it might be the wrong step.  And so instead of stepping out in faith, I become paralyzed in fear and do nothing.  

I found myself in this familiar place of paralyzed fear and indecision in my recent journey from unemployment.  My plan was to pastor a church.  I sacrificed a lot to attend and graduate from seminary with a Master of Divinity and be ordained in the Presbyterian USA church.  God called me as a pastor and a pastor I was going to be.  When it was clear those doors closed - (more due to my decision that for now at least I needed to be here; in the Puget Sound area; home) - my limited vision told me that meant I wouldn't be a pastor anymore.  My call was over.  Time to find a "job."

I had a couple of interviews for "jobs."  Jobs I could do but jobs I wouldn't like.  I was a pastor, I told myself.  No, remember.  God ended that call.  Then I interviewed for a job with an Ecumenical social justice non-profit.  A job working organizing congregations around affordable housing for homeless families.   A job description that was my job.  A job I was passionate about.  A job I would love.   A job with a very low salary.  Too low.

It was the only job I was offered.  I knew I would love that job, I didn't know how I could live on the salary.  I didn't know what to do.  "It's your job!" people who knew me said.  "What do you want to do?" others asked.

I took the job.  I was scared to death.  I didn't know how I would be able to live; find a place to rent on such a small budget.  I couldn't see how it could work out.  But I needed a job.  I needed to work.  I took the first step.  I accepted the job.

A few days later, I got the phone call from Brooklyn.  My belongings were going to come from Casper.  God was answering a prayer that I had given up on.  An amazing miracle!  The next day, scholarship money was found so that I could do hospice CPE - another answered prayer because on my small salary I couldn't afford to pay for it.  I discovered benefits at the new job I didn't know I would have - like dental insurance after 9 years of not being able to go to the dentist.  God was answering prayer after prayer after prayer and all I did was take the first step.

I remembered then that that's all He asks of us.  We don't have to know where we are going and how it's all going to work out.  We don't need to understand or have all the answers.  We only have to take that first step and trust Him for the rest.  He is with us.  He knows what we need.   And He's there to catch us when we fall.

Hebrews 11:8  "By faith Abraham, when called to go to a place he would later receive as his inheritance, obeyed and went, even though he did not know where he was going." 

Gratitude

June 9, 2013

  Praise the LORD! Give thanks to the LORD, for he is good! His faithful love endures forever.  2 Who can list the glorious miracles of the LORD? Who can ever praise him enough? Psalm 106:1-2 (NLT)

I'm learning that there is a special kind of gratitude after you've been emptied of everything that you thought you were and everything that you thought you had.  I'm guessing that God already knew that and it was part of His plan that I should learn it, but then I'm getting ahead of myself.

Four things have always helped define me; given me purpose and meaning.  First is my faith; my relationship with Jesus Christ.    Second are my daughters and my role as their mother. Third is my home;  a shelter from the world; my safe haven.  And fourth, my work.  Most recently, my work - being a pastor, was not only my "job" but also "who" I was. Being a pastor was my identity.  I was a pastor.  

The past five months I have been jobless and homeless - half of the things that had always defined me were missing in my life.  50%.  And my definition as a pastor was in question, so I wasn't even sure who I was.  I was seriously disoriented, lost in a deep darkness; humbled into complete submission before God.  I had no control over my life or what my future might look like.  The only thing left was to trust God.

I just finished week 3 of a job that God clearly had in mind for me.  No, it's not pastoring a church.  It's working with congregations to develop affordable housing and organizing the faith community to advocate for changes in policies around housing and poverty.  God has found a place for me to use my passions to help the church be the church and bring transformation to our community.  Wow!  I'm so grateful.

I'm preaching periodically - filling the pulpit at different churches.   I love to preach and God is finding ways for that to happen.  I'm so grateful. 

July 10, I start hospice CPE.  Pastoral care is a third passion of mine and to journey with people at the end stage of their life is such a privilege.  I'm so grateful.

You see, I thought there was only one way to be a pastor but God is showing me another way.  Imagine!  God had a way that I never thought of where I can do the 3 things that I love best.  My box was small.  God doesn't have a box.  I guess that's why He's God and I'm not.  

Thanks to God's creativity and some amazing friends, my belongings are in storage in Tacoma and not Casper.  I'm still in complete awe over that one!   If God could figure that out I know He can work out housing.  I'm so confident I've even stopped trying to figure it out (mostly.  After all, I am still Debbie!).  My prayer is to have housing in August. Everything is coming together.   I am so grateful.

The last five months has been agonizingly difficult and yet I wouldn't trade it.  I'm a different person.  I've learned a lot about myself, about God, about my relationship with God, and about what it's like to be completely empty and then to be blessed beyond measure.  I know what's important and what's not.  I know what I really value and what's just stuff in my life. And I hope I know, just a little bit better, how to let go and trust God.  He really does know what's best.

Thank you Lord for gratitude.  It sure feels good.

Our Awesomely Creative God

As a good reformed Presbyterian, I believe in the importance of confession and the tremendous freedom we receive through God's gift of forgiveness.  And so it's with tremendous humbleness that I confess that I have a very small and limited way of looking at life.  I realize now that the deeper I go into the wilderness the smaller and more boxed in my thinking  gets.   Apparently I'm incapable of being creative in darkness.

Example:  I left Casper in December with my car packed as full as possible with clothes, Christmas gifts and my dog.  All my belongings were packed in storage in Casper with my expectation (take special note of "my") that they would be moved by the church that would be calling me to be their pastor in the near future.

After five months and all doors for church ministry closed, I had given up hope that I would ever get my belongings from Casper.  I had priced it out and it would cost about $3,000 which was just impossible.  Emotionally, I began the task of letting go of my stuff by asking my Casper friends to start selling some of my things that just weren't worth trying to get.  At least, I thought, I could try to narrow it down to just a small truck and then begin to think about no truck.

I accepted a job (another post, another time) and a couple of days later I got a phone call from some Tacoma friends.  My daughter Tracy lived with them while she was finishing up college and getting  on her feet.  They were calling from Brooklyn, NY where they were visiting their son.  They had just received a phone call from their neighbor in Tacoma who was buying a Nissan truck on line which just happened to be in Brooklyn, NY.  Would Jill and Craig be interested in driving it from Brooklyn (since you are there) to Tacoma instead of flying?  "Sure," Jill said.  "We have a friend who has all her belongings in Casper, Wyoming.  We'll stop there and pick them up for her!"  "So," Jill is wondering to me, "would I be able to rent a U-Haul trailer and get some friends in Casper to help them load up?  This is going to happen!"

Now, I ask you.  Who but God could be this creative?  Who lives in Tacoma and buys a pick-up in Brooklyn?  Really?!  Who is willing to take an extra week and drive across country?!  A week later, my belongings - enough to set up a home here and be comfortable, are in storage in Tacoma, Washington.  I am in awe of God's creativity, His faithfulness, and the people He used to make this happen.  Never would I have thought of this or imagined.  Thanks Be to God!

Psalm 145:6-7    They will tell of the power of your awesome works, and I will proclaim your great deeds. They will celebrate your abundant goodness and joyfully sing of your righteousness. 

Beginning

I decided to start a blog because there is so much in my heart I want to share.  The last five months have been incredibly hard and actually, if I'm completely honest, the last nine months has been a difficult period in my life.  It's been a time of isolation and wilderness and complete disorientation.  I've been jobless and homeless.  What I believed was a strong pastoral call remained empty.  Doors kept closing. I had no idea what God was up to nor could I understand what I was supposed to be learning or doing.  I had absolutely no control.  It was a time of darkness during which I really didn't see a way out.  I was scared and depressed.

And then, just as suddenly (or so it seems now), I've emerged from the darkness into a light and joy that I would not have imagined.  God has shown me that He is incredibly creative - both in leading me in a new way of being a pastor and in pulling pieces together that I could not see possible before.  As strange as it sounds, once I took one step of faith, other things very quickly started falling into place.  It was as if God was suddenly answering months of prayers all at once.  I am in total awe of God's faithfulness and creativity and grace.

This blog will be my way of putting my thoughts and emotions to pen and processing all that has happened and continues to happen in chapter of my story.  My prayer is that it helps others in their walk.  God really does know what He is doing!  He hears our prayers - our cries for help, our anguish and our fears.  God listens and cares and responds with love and compassion and creativity and imagination and a bigness that we don't expect.  

Keep reading and I'll fill you in.

Grace and peace
Debbie

Psalm 121 (NIV)   I lift up my eyes to the hills-- where does my help come from?   My help comes from the LORD, the Maker of heaven and earth.   He will not let your foot slip-- he who watches over you will not slumber;   indeed, he who watches over Israel will neither slumber nor sleep.   The LORD watches over you-- the LORD is your shade at your right hand;   the sun will not harm you by day, nor the moon by night.   The LORD will keep you from all harm-- he will watch over your life;   the LORD will watch over your coming and going both now and forevermore.