Just sit

Job^* took a potsherd with which to scrape himself, and sat among the ashes...When [Job's friends] saw him from a distance, they did not recognize him, and they raised their voices and wept aloud; they tore their robes and threw dust in the air upon their heads. They sat with him on the ground for seven days and seven nights, and no one spoke a word to him, for they saw that his suffering was very great. [Job 2:8, 12-13]

I have some dear friends who are struggling with significant pain right now, mostly due to loss of a loved one. Some are faring better than others, but pain is pain and grief is grief.

In the book of Job, a man has everything taken from him. His livestock die, his land is ruined, his health is shattered, and his children are killed. His wife tells him to curse God and die, just to end all of the suffering. But instead, Job takes a potsherd (literally a shard of pottery), scrapes off the sores that have plagued him, and sits in the midst of the ashes. In his grief, he can do nothing but sit.

His friends come along shortly thereafter, and while they will prove to be unhelpful later on, in that moment when Job can do nothing but sit, they in turn sit with him. For seven days and for seven nights they sit. Not because they were good at sitting or only desired to sit, or even because they thought that's what God was telling them to do. They sat for they saw his suffering was very great.

I'm not a sitter by nature. I'm a talker or a sympathizer or a fixer. But I'm learning to be a sitter. I've been blessed in the past by those who sit, when my suffering was very great. To have someone join me in the heap of ashes and practice the ministry of presence has brought healing to my soul without a single word uttered. So now, when it is my turn to comfort a friend in need, I am reminded that it is not always in the loving words we say or the sage advice we offer, but in the being with the ones we love.

Learn to sit. Let others sit with you. And start to be healed by the knowledge that you are loved and cherished and worthy of the time spent just sitting.

StuffChristiansLike Scorecard!

One of my favorite blogs is StuffChristiansLike.net. As if the blog weren't hilarious enough, there's also a book, and I'm just going to let you go ahead and read the blog/buy the book so you can split your sides and never forget to give a good Christian side hug.

Today, those of us who read SCL and also blog are putting together an incredibly important and helpful post today. It is something that every Christian needs to read and take to heart, because it the topic will have resounding impact on our culture for all time. The question you have all been asking: Is that contestant on American Idol a Christian?

John Acuff, the brains behind SCL, has linked back to all of these posts today, as we are each posting a different piece of the scorecard. Check them all out and and evaluate your favorite American Idol  contestant for how devout a Christian he or she may be ;]

67. They wear a promise keepers t-shirt that says “I love my wife” just to make sure everyone knows they’re taken = +2 points

To add up your score with over a 130 other ideas on this scorecard, visit stuffchristianslike.net!

One More Time With Feeling

I may or may not have mentioned that one of my favorite musicians is Regina Spektor. I saw her in concert many many moons ago (okay, in 2005) when she opened for the Killers and Keane, and I was less than impressed. Then Begin to Hope came out, and Fidelity is just so darn catchy and Samson so clever and gorgeous, I couldn't resist buying the whole album and falling in love. Begin to Hope is really a gateway Regina album: it's mainstream enough to have wide appeal, but once you've acclimated yourself to her sound, you start to love the quirkiness of Mary Ann Meets the Gravediggers and Soviet Kitsch and then you're on a slippery slope of looking for all of her unreleased concert tracks that are kinda weird but completely ingenious. I saw Regina in concert at Messiah in 2007, and it. was. increds. One of the best shows I've seen. If you can catch her live, DO IT.

So anyway, this summer, Far was released, and it's even better than Begin to Hope. It's more accessible and insanely catchy and good Lord I cannot stop listening to it. Go out and buy it right now and import it into your iTunes and watch the play count eclipse the play counts of all other albums. Except for Wicked, let's be honest. But anyway, I'm not getting paid to endorse this (I wish), I just want to spread the love. Especially the love for Human of the Year, which I would put on my top ten favorite songs of all time (and that is a hard list to break into). Here's a lyrical sampling:

Outside the cars are beeping
out a song just in your honor,
and though they do not know it
all mankind are now your brothers


And thus the cathedral had spoken
wishing well to all us sinners,
then with a sigh grew silent
'til next year's big human winner

Go get your life changed by the musical stylings of Miss Regina Spektor, resident antifolk goddess.

I love you, so I won't steal your Tristan Prettyman thunder with the title of this post

Today is a special, special day.

Exactly twenty-three years ago, the second mom that I didn't even know I had at the time (I was only 34 days old, you know) gave birth to one of the most fantastic and beautiful people I've ever met.

Mom & Dad #2 named her Lindsay.

I met Lindsay in first grade, and we hated each other. Don't worry, there's a happy ending, and it gives us a good story to tell now. You see, we were in different first grade classes, but we were both in a group of students who were pulled out of the milieu of seven-year olds for Gifted & Talented. Because we were excessively both (I'm so modest), we were arch-enemies. But we realized that we could join forces and obliterate the competition (it is fierce in grade school), so we decided to be best friends.

Then, the cosmos aligned on the first day of second grade, and we showed up to school looking like this (completely unplanned):

The rest is history.

To go through our entire friendship, even at the speed of light, would take weeks. Maybe even months. But this, this I can say in the space of a blog post:

My dear Lindsay, I love you so very much. Thanks for being the first sister I ever had, and my mom's favorite 1.5. Thank you for decorating Barbie cars with me in art class, and helping me learn how to ride a bike, and getting in trouble with me for taking the long way around the block, and saving my sister's life that one time, and prank calling boys at my birthday party, and always being my favorite softball teammate, and giving me the tajas, and being there for every crush and subsequent crash, and coming to visit me at the Mess, and letting me come visit you in North Carolina and Annapolis, and learning so much about yourself in Australia, and having the best New Year's Eve parties, and entertaining me via gchat at the most opportune times, and a billion other things that have absorbed into my subconscious over the past sixteen years.

Oh, right, and thank you for being my best friend.

Happy birthday, beautiful. I hope it's the best one ever.

Processing the process

In order to gain admittance to many of the degree programs offered by ELCA seminaries, you are required to be in the Candidacy process. Those of us who are immersed in it often roll our eyes or groan when someone unfamiliar with the process asks what it is. So here is the brief version (and I promise I neither groaned nor rolled my eyes; I am in a library after all):

Candidacy is the process through which synods (regional groupings of ELCA congregations) evaluate a candidate's readiness for ministry. There are three steps in the process: entrance, endorsement, and approval. At each step, there is a reflective essay and panel interview. At times, the interview will be with the entire candidacy committee of the synod (my committee is composed of about 15 members, if I recall correctly), which is made up of the bishop, synod staff, pastors, seminary professors, and lay members; or it may be with just a few members of the committee (but the final approval process involves evaluation from both the seminary faculty and the entire committee).

At each step, the committee has three options, one of which they will bestow upon the candidate: approval (different from final approval...confusing, I know), postponement or denial. Every candidate strives for approval. That means that your essay met their requirements, or if it fell a little short, your interview made up for it, and you are ready to continue in the process. Postponement can mean many things, but it often means the candidate has some things to work on before completing the next step; it does not always mean that the candidate is not qualified for ministry, but that they need a bit more time. From what I understand, denial is rare, but it can happen, and it can sideline a candidate for an indefinite period of time. I'm not clear on whether you can enter the process again after time and growth, or if you are finished with candidacy altogether, but I've found that most candidates avoid thinking about it at all.

My entrance went well. I had months to prepare, and I was ready for the interview, as it mostly assesses where you are at this first step of theological education and preparation for ministry. I was approved for entrance without difficulty, and I have been riding on the coattails of my entrance for the past few months. But now, it is time for endorsement, and I am scared out of my mind. Most candidates wait until the beginning of their second year, after their Clinical Pastoral Education, to seek endorsement. But because I am in a two year program, rather than four, I need to be endorsed before other parts of my academic program can move forward, so this is all happening very quickly.

Very quickly as in April 16th.

With the essay due April 1st.

By my (read: my Dashboard countdown clock's) calculations, I have a mere 6 days, 7 hours and approximately 53 minutes to finish this essay.

I took over seven months to write the last one.

And now, I have to show growth.


Writing the essay is the hardest part. They want me to think theologically about my vocation as it is as it is grounded in baptism, in contexts such as family, confirmation, friendships, work settings, school and community. In one page. I barely know what it is asking in the first place, much less how to address all of those topics in 23 double-spaced lines. And then there are eight more questions beyond that! When do I get to stop writing about myself?
As far as the interview, I'm intimidated. I'm afraid that my committee will ask questions to which I haven't learned the answers, or want to know why I still don't feel called to be a pastor. I cried in my last interview, and my number one goal for this interview is to not repeat those tears. But I am afraid it will happen.

I hope this doesn't sound as if I'm degrading the Candidacy process; I actually think it is necessary and well-developed to raise up qualified leaders in the Church who can clearly articulate theological groundings and a sense of call. But in the midst, it seems like I'm drowning in an ocean of essays, interviews and decisions that keep me up at night worrying. And all I wanted to do was help young people encounter Christ.

I'm not sure if there's a greater purpose for this blog entry. Maybe it was just to vent in the middle of the process, or maybe it was to encourage someone who feels he or she is the only one with anxiety about the process. But I do know one thing for absolute certain: I now have 6 days, 7 hours and 42 minutes to put the last seven months of learning and living down on paper, and I still feel as strongly about my call as I did eight years ago.* If my committee knows that, I think I'm doing just fine.



*Interestingly enough, I just realized that today is exactly eight years since I felt called to youth ministry, to the day. I wasn't sure exactly what it was at first, but I quickly identified it, and I remember it like it was yesterday. Funny how these things work out, eh?

In loving, loving memory

It's funny; my grandfather's favorite holiday was St. Patrick's day. He was Irish to his core. I vividly remember his excitement when he and my grandmother traveled to Ireland (for what I doubt was his first visit) and he was able to kiss the Blarney Stone and survey the land of his ancestors. In 2008, he passed away on Friday, March 14th, and the process of laying him to rest began on Monday, March 17th.

The day he loved.

It was appropriate and touching and painful and beautiful.

Today makes two years since we began to say our last goodbyes and cried what were far from our last tears and continued to thank God for giving us so many years with one of the kindest and most loving men I've ever known.

One of the hymns we sang at his funeral was I Am the Bread of Life. Today, we sang that hymn in chapel. I joined in when I could, but mostly I just wept. It was a poignant and unexpected moment of remembrance for my dear Pop-Pop, and it was a fitting tribute: the hymn that always brings him to the front of my mind on the day that does the same.

For everything there is a season, and a time for every matter under heaven:
a time to be born, and a time to die;
a time to plant, and a time to pluck up what is planted;
a time to kill, and a time to heal;
a time to break down, and a time to build up;
a time to weep, and a time to laugh;
a time to mourn, and a time to dance;
a time to throw away stones, and a time to gather stones together;
a time to embrace, and a time to refrain from embracing;
a time to seek, and a time to lose;
a time to keep, and a time to throw away;
a time to tear, and a time to sew;
a time to keep silence, and a time to speak;
a time to love, and a time to hate;
a time for war, and a time for peace. 
[ecclesiastes 3:1-8]

I got 90 problems...

Okay, I try to keep my corner of the interwebs free of what some would call "foul language," but this was TOO GOOD not to share. I'm there are great lessons to be learned about the importance of youth ministry here, but they're going to have to wait until I stop laughing.

What are they teaching in DC charter schools?!