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Life on the Road

Posted on November 27, 2012Leave a comment

When I accepted the position as a coordinator of Imagine No Malaria, someone asked what it was like to no longer be serving a church. My response back was that I’m not serving one church… I’m serving nearly 800 of them!

It is exciting to be working with so many new people and communities of faith. I am learning a lot about how different churches operate and what they expect of the conference… both as far as what they can give and what they receive. I am finding creative new possibilities, folks who are eager to serve and who have profoud stories to share. I hear those familiar, tired, overworked and burnt out voices, too… the ones who are hungry for a new injection of life and/or for fresh blood to come in and lend a hand. I’m witnessing the church with all of its glory and warts. It is beautiful.

But I am also spending a lot of time on Interstates 80 and 35 and Hwy 20. My butt is carving out a dent in the driver’s seat of my car. My trunk is full of flyers and training materials and my backseat is littered with McDonald’s bags. (I really need to work on finding more out of the way, hometown, local places to eat). In three days, I’ll be in five different cities doing the work of Imagine No Malaria. It is exciting, but as I type up this post, I’m sitting in a hotel room far from home. I found myself last week fully expecting to see my cat sitting on the edge of the bed, only to remember I was all by myself.

The trainings I have been leading have been good. I’m learning a lot even as we are building some connections and support in each district. The more we do, the more I realize how far we have to go. There is a lot of road left in front of us!

Time flies when you are surrounded by cardboard

Posted on October 15, 20121 Comment

Six weeeks ago: I said yes to my Bishop and began hunting for a place to live.

Five weeks ago: I announced to my congregation that I was accepting the invitation to a new adventure in ministry.

Four weeks ago: we began to pack and say goodbye and let things go one by one.

Three weeks ago: I found myself in Nashville for training for my new position with Imagine No Malaria at UMCom.

Two weeks ago: Frantically handing over ministries and leaving instructions, I find myself down for the count with the worst sinus infection I’ve ever had and I start my new job.

One week ago: I said good-bye to my church family and began to transition to the next with new colleagues and new phone numbers and new emails and new everything.

Today: I’m sitting in our new home, directing conference calls, settling in, and starting a very different life for a short stretch of time.

I tried blogging through some of the chaos near the beginning, but then I didn’t have the time I needed to really process all of the change. I knew I needed to, but I kind of bottled it all up and have bits and pieces of thoughts saved as private posts here and there. As I get the time to look back through them, I’ll see if there is anything “salveageable” in them.

I think for today, however, the best metaphor for what my life has been in the past few weeks is to think about my kitty cats.

My cats Tiki and Turbo are shy. They are extremely loveable and very nice, but they are introverts. They don’t do well around people and would prefer to hide under the bed… at least for a few hours or until people have left.

They have traveled and spent time in other houses before. Mostly my brother-in-laws house, where they spent most of our two week vacation hiding behind a chair where they thought no one could see them.

As soon as we arrived in the new place, we put them in the laundry room where they could have some space, but wouldn’t have to see all of the people moving all of the stuff.

The problem was, they didn’t want to come out when the chaos was over. We found them hiding behind the dryer, huddled together, just hoping that no one would see them.

As my husband and I eventually dragged them out of their little cozy corner (who am I kidding, it wasn’t cozy – it was dark and dusty and a little dank, too), they were tramautized. Hearts pounding, heads bobbing back and forth, not sure of what to do or where to run and hide.

I carefully cradled one cat, Brandon the other, and we showed them the house. We took them through every room and set them lovingly on their familiar pieces of furniture. And the whole time, their heads bobbed and weaved, sniffing and smelling, trying to take it all in, overwhelmed by the differences and yet the familiarity. It was dizzying to watch them… and yet I knew how they felt.

So many things have changed in the last few weeks, and yet so many things have remained the same. It’s like the world is upside down, but it’s the same world. It’s not better… it’s definitely not worse… it’s just disorienting. I’m still craning my neck and peeking around corners and “sniffing” out what all this new life entails. I’m still unsure, and yet starting to get situated, excited, full of anticipation.

I knew the cats would be fine when Turbo hopped into bed with us last night and found “his spot” right between our pillows. And even though Tiki never made it up the stairs to our master suite the night before, he found his own way and pounced on our feet… right on schedule as the sun started to rise. They seem to be enjoying new places to run and hide, new adventures around every corner… and yet they also seem to be a little bit more cuddly and cozy – wanting to be closer than before.

Change makes you think about what is really necessary and what is really important. It brings your life into focus. It makes you want to be cozier with the ones you love and cherish the home you have. It has been a whirlwind of a month, and we are still surrounded by cardboard… but everything is finally starting to settle into place. Tiki just used all of the boxes as an opportunity to leapfrog from one pile to the next and perch a top the highest one so he could survey his new territory. I feel like even in the chaos, I’m on top of the world, enjoying the view, and ready to tackle anything.

Making Room

Posted on July 14, 2012Leave a comment

Funeral Meditation based on Luke 2:1-7

As Christmas approaches, we are reminded that a very pregnant young woman and her patient fiancé were once left out in the cold. They made their way to the town ofBethlehemhoping and praying that someone would have a place for them to stay… but there was no room.

As Luke tells us:

Joseph went to be enrolled together with Mary, who was promised to him in marriage and who was pregnant. While they were there, the time came for Mary to have her baby. She gave birth to her firstborn son, wrapped him snugly, and laid him in a manger, because there was no place for them in the guestroom.

There was no place for them in the guestroom.

Notice… it doesn’t say that they were full. It doesn’t say that there wasn’t room. It says that there was no place for them.

Your mother and grandmother was someone who always had a place in her heart for others. She took great care to make sure that everything was just right for people and that they knew how loved they were.

Wilma was born in 1925 here in Marengo to John and Carrie Ehrman, she graduated from the Marengo High School. She worked in the office of Byron Goldthwaite and also as a Deputy Clergy for the county… but you know best that her true love and her true vocation was to be a homemaker. She greatly enjoyed cooking for her family and you enjoyed eating her fried chicken and other wonderful meals. She made many of her own clothes with her skills as a seamstress… and some for you too, although Jean, you would have preferred to wear the store bought clothes =) She kept an exceptionally clean house and cared about the details. And she did it all for you.

She made a place for each of you in her lives and made sure that you were taken care of and that you were loved. She made a place for you.

Luke reminds us as we approach Christmas that the Lord of Lords crept into this world on a quiet evening and that there was no place for him. There was no place for his unmarried mother. There was no place for the man who would be his earthly father. There was no place.

I hear in that statement that there was no welcome for them.

Who wants to take in a pregnant girl in the middle of the night?

Who wants to deal with these strangers who didn’t have enough sense to plan ahead?

Who wants to give up their spot?

In some Mexican and Latin American communities, the tradition of Las Posadas reminds folks of the absence of hospitality Mary and Joseph recieved. In the days before Christmas, processions go from house to house and request lodging. The host for each evening turns the people away… until the final night, Christmas Eve, when Mary and Joseph are finally allowed to enter and the people gather around the nativity to pray.

So many times in our actions, we too, can tell other people: There is no place for you here.

But I imagine your mother and your grandmother would have loved being the host for the last night of LasPosadas… That she would have opened up her home and said – yes, there is a place for you. I will make room.

The God that your mother and grandmother believed in, crept into this world to make sure that we all had a place. He came as a child to make us children of God. He came and was rejected so that we might never be rejected again. He died so that we might live.

Before he died, Christ reminded his disciples and reminded us:

Don’t be troubled. Trust in God. Trust also in me. My Father’s house has room to spare. If that weren’t the case, would I have told you that I’m going to prepare a place for you? When I go to prepare a place for you, I will return and take you to be with me so that where I am you will be too.

There is a place for you. That is what Christ tells us. That is what Christ shows us. That is what Christ gives us.

Wilma knew that her job was to make a place for you in this world. May you let her life and her memory live on by carrying in your hearts the desire to serve others… to love others… more than yourself.

Amen. And Amen.

tea and danish

Posted on September 29, 20101 Comment

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I’ve blogged before about how church visitation makes my skin crawl. It gets me all weirded out for no good reason at all. It is one of two places that my “introverted” side really shines through – the other being the sheer exhaustion that comes over me when I finally get back home after a morning spent at church on a Sunday.

I think part of the reason visitation is so awkward for me (and not the actual visits… and not hospital visits or nursing home visits… its working up to the visit and actually arriving on the doorstep that is hard) is that I don’t want to intrude on people’s lives. I don’t want to show up unannounced. I don’t want to butt in. I know lots of people who would prefer to simply be left alone. Frankly, when someone shows up on my doorstep – even if I’m kind of expecting them – and I’m wearing my fuzzy red pajama pants and my glasses are on and my hair is hastily in a ponytail – I would rather not answer the door. And I’m certainly not going to invite them in.

SO.

big problem if you want to be a pastor who tends the flock.

Big problem that I think I have solved.

I now invite folks to invite me over. Or invite them to stop by. Or invite them to let me know where/when we can meet for coffee.

I’m sending out these little postcards to folks, one chunk of the alphabet at the time. And they have the chance to mail them back or drop them in the offering plate and give me some feedback:

Sure- come on over to my house, and here are the times that are good for me.

How about we meet for coffee or lunch somewhere?

I would love to come into the church and visit with you in your office.

Thanks for the offer, but I am not interested in a personal visit at this time.

Just making that decision, to put the ball in my members court, was liberating.

Today, I had my first visit in someone’s home as a result of using these cards. And it was awesome. I got the grand tour of her house. We had danish and cups of tea in the kitchen. She sent me home with some apples from the tree in her backyard. We talked about her family and the ways that she had served the church and she had the opportunity to ask me questions about a new position she was taking on for the next year. And it was because she knew I was coming, and I knew she was expecting me, and because we both wanted to get to know one another better that we had such a wonderful time.

In some ways, I felt like by using this new method I was cheating just a little bit, but after talking with my superintendent, he helped me to realize a few things.

First – this allows my congregation members to respond as they feel comfortable. This is a german community and folks are pretty private. They don’t let you into their personal lives easily. We would rather put on a proud face than admit we have problems and while we are quick to help out, we resist help from anyone else. This method allows those who want to visit the opportunity to do so – in their own way.

Second – it takes the pressure off the cold calls. It allows me to be more comfortable, because I already know that this particular person or family is expecting me. They aren’t worried about what their home looks like, because they invited me to come over. They aren’t rushing out the door for a soccer game, because this is a time that is good for them. They are prepared for me to show up. Or we are meeting somewhere at a specific time and have the chance to grab a cup of coffee and we both know that this time is set aside for a conversation.

Third – It lets folks know that I really do care about them, that I’m willing to make the effort to get out and see them… even if they are people that haven’t been to church in ages. Most of those folks are not going to return the cards. And so the question that I’m struck with is – do I call and follow up? Or do I respect their decision not to reach out? I think the sentiment we ended on was that if I continue to make these kinds of efforts – not right away – but every once and a while – they’ll know I really do care. That I’m not pestering. And that when they are ready – I will be too.

absent

Posted on May 18, 2009Leave a comment

I’ve been away… yes, I realize this.

life has been far too busy to blog. But tonight I cleaned my desk off in my home office and I might actually have a place to blog in comfort again =)

FF: HGTV

Posted on January 30, 20091 Comment

From Rev Gals:

As some of you may know I am in the midst of my first home purchase. It is a new-build and so some of the fun was picking out upgrades and major decor items to my taste rather than walking into a previously owned home that needed to be upgraded room by room (pink and teal tiles in the bathroom, anyone?). As much as decorating is not my thing, I did try to embrace the moment because just how many times do you get to have a do-over on kitchen cabinets/floors/countertops?

And so, my questions to you this fine Friday involve your home past, present or future…

1) If you could, what room in the place you are currently living would you redo first?

I think the first room I would want to play with would be our family room downstairs. It is kind of empty and needs some love. We currently have a sectional couch from my parents basement, a microwave cart, a college tv stand, a dvd bookshelf and a small kitchen table with my husbands computer on it down there. It’s sad.

I would start by painting the walls (I’m thinking red) and getting some great black and white posters to hang. I also have a number of black and white photos the we have taken and of family to put up. (right now the walls are bare)

I’d buy a larger game table for playing cards and board games and I would get a larger corner unit for the television. And then some storage items – like one of those great big square coffee tables with all the storage underneath.

2) What is the most hideous feature/color/decor item you have ever seen in a home?

I actually haven’t lived in that many hideous houses… but the pastel, 80’s era, geometric designed curtains in my in-laws dining room is probably the most hideous I can think of.

3) What feature do you most covet? Do you have it? If not, is it within reach?

A fireplace. Hands down. I was actually thinking about wanting a fireplace a few days ago, and then this week, we were looking through the history book that our church historian just completed, and in the article on the opening of this parsonage – there was a FIREPLACE in the living room. WHY was that taken out?

4) Your kitchen – love it or hate it? Why?

I really like my kitchen in the parsonage. All the cabinetry was done by a former pastor. It is HUGE and has lots of storage space. I might update the appliances a bit, but they are really just fine.

I think the only thing I would add would be shelves or a counter top in one corner. It is a dividing wall between the dining room/living room and an odd little corner. A breakfast nook wouldn’t quite fit. We had a small kitchen table there for a while (see #1) but we really need a place to put recycling items and hide the litter box underneath. We never ate at the table while it was there, because the dining room is literally two steps away.

5) Here is $10,000 and you HAVE to spend it on the place you are living now. What do you do?

First, buy a bedroom suite. We currently have no headboard, and a scrappily put together suite a an endtable, a twin size headboard/shelving unit, and a dresser we got off of a curb at one point. I would love to have a matching set and two dressers – my husband just has too many t-shirts and could fill up our current one on his own.

Second, buy a game table for the basement. And a nice entertainment center/stereo system.

Third, redo the countertops in the kitchen to something that isn’t white. I think that we have already stained at least one section from kool-aid. They look just fine, but soak up stains like you wouldn’t believe.

Fourth, put new tile down in the basement laundry/bath room. It’s like a 1970’s orangish tan that really isn’t that cheery.

BONUS: Why do you think there was such a surplus of ugly bathroom tile colors showcased in all homes built from the 1950’s right through the early 80’s?

lol… I forgot this was the bonus when I listed my final $10,000 makeover wish. Of course the bathroom tile is ugly… it had to match the advacado green toilets and sinks they were putting in.

Ironically, I really like advacado green. I painted my church office that color when I moved into it. And all the older women looked at me like I was crazy – but it looks really nice!

Take Me Home.

Posted on January 15, 20091 Comment

Today was bitterly cold outside. So cold in fact that they cancelled school. And I cancelled church activities. You just didn’t want to go outside unless you had to. I’m not being a wuss – I’m talking record setting all time lows here – you would get frostbite in 7 minutes in this weather.

I have never been in weather that was quite this cold before. And I didn’t really feel all that prepared for it. At least not footware wise.

The one trip I did make out of doors was to the nursing home for my monthly worship service there. And of course, I wore my cute little ankle boots with the pointed toe and heel…. but with fuzzy warm hot pink socks on underneath. I need a pair of uggs, or at least really warm boots, or something.

I really enjoy worshipping at the nursing home. I almost always share communion with them, and found that I am the only one who brings communion to their community worship. The Catholics have a separate mass, and the other denominations are more exclusive about who is welcome at the table. So, it is a joy to be able to walk around the room and share the bread of heave and the cup of salvation with these dear old folk.

Today, however, I largely used the service from the previous Sunday in church, and so we remembered our baptisms. I had a basin of water and invited them to dip their fingers in and remember that God loves them and has called them each by name. As I came to one woman, she said with joy, “I was baptized in the Iowa River!” Of course, there was the other woman who had fallen asleep and was gently nudged by her neighbor when I showed up with the bowl, but that is pretty typical with this group.

This congregation is largely women – in fact, I think there was only one man in worship today. His name is Bill and he is a beloved old member of my congregation. He was a farmer and milked cows by hand for 60+ years, which has caused his fingers to literally freeze up all curled together from the arthritis. I think about my dad and what he will be like at the age of 97 if he lives that long, and I see much the same type of body. A hard worker whose body has long ago worn out.

There was one woman in particular that I sat with after worship today. Her name is grace and all throughout the service, she asked who was going to take her home. At the end I had a chance to chat and she really wanted to know why she had gone outside in this weather and who was going to come and get her and take her home. I told her gently that this is her home now, this is where she belongs and there are wonderful people who are here to take care of her.

Partly it was her dementia, but partly, don’t we all want someone to take us home? To take us back to that place of comfort and rest and belonging that we know so dear? And aren’t there all of those songs that tell us we are just waiting to be rescued and taken to our eternal home?

We sing a lot of those songs in worship at the nursing home. “I’ll Fly Away.” “In the Garden.” And I think what is hard for even us to understand is that THIS is our home. This is where we are meant to be right now. And we too, have to get used to this place, to find our place here, and figure out how we can be at home among one another.

gone

Posted on August 4, 20084 Comments

I found out yesterday that the house I grew up in burned to the ground.

It was a beautifully constructed old farmhouse. The woodwork was beautiful throughout the entire house, with built-in cabinetry throughout the house – stuff that you just don’t see made any more. Some of the walls had been painted years and years ago and were practically frescos. When I was born, there still wasn’t running water in the house (according to my baby book) and the entire time we lived there, there was no electricity in the upstairs bathroom. It had a beautiful cast iron clawfoot tub and I grew up taking baths in candlelight. We had a woodburning furnace in the house and as kids we would help dad chop wood and toss it into the basement through one of the windows.

My family still owns the property, although no one has lived in the house for eight years. We decided to build a new house and as we moved on with our lives, that house remained as a part of our past. There were no plans to sell the house and so we gradually moved out stuff into our new house – and what we didn’t move, was just left.

We moved right after my senior year of high school, and the new house didn’t quite feel like home yet, so as I prepared to go to college, many of the things that I just didn’t have room to take with me, things from my childhood remained. Books that I had read as a child and then a teenager, scraps of memorobelia, clothes that I had grown out of, but didn’t take the time to sort through and donate.

A few years ago, as I moved into my first apartment in divinity school I went back and got a table and chairs and an old writing desk to take with me. I keep trying to remember if there were other things in the house that were left behind and are now gone.

I always have had so many dreams for that house. While it was beautiful and had so much history, it was a sort of embarassment to me growing up… it always was in the need of repair and more love than we had the time or energy to give it… but I had dreams of someday restoring that house to its original beauty and either living there or turning it into a bed and breakfast or something. It would probably cost a half a million dollars to do so… but still, it was a dream.

I had so many plans this summer, now that we are back in the state, to head over there and sort through things. Throw out what we never intended to keep, find those treasures all over again and give things away. I even had a dream right after we had the tornados north of us that this same house had been completely wiped out by a tornado – and I woke up with the same regret and emptiness that I have today. I think I might have done something about that feeling, but with all of the flooding that hit a week later, there just wasn’t time. I needed to be in other places, with other people.

All of that is now gone. My husband and I stopped by to see what remains. The charred ruins smouldered still. All that was recognizeable was the stone foundation and the porch that was right below my window. I sometimes used to sit on the roof of the porch – careful to avoid the weak spots. But not anymore.