After attending Our Life Together, an annual clergy retreat for Indiana United Methodists, last Thursday and Friday, I have finally been able to more clearly articulate why I do not like hanging out with other clergy.
I am sure that sounds strange to plumbers, doctors, lawyers and teachers who all enjoy conversation and small talk with their respsective colleagues, but sometimes I just cannot stand other people like myself.
The-dude-down-the-hall from me is an exception. I like Todd because he is even weirder than me and embraces his weirdness with gusto!
For some reason I didn't have this experience while in seminary. I enjoyed my colleagues then, had study groups with them, went to Duke basketball games with them, and babysat their kids. But, out here in the non-academic setting... small talk with other pastors is just plain odd, uncomfortable and painful.
What makes it odd is the pastor who cannot be real. You know, the fake. She keeps her voice in a preacher cadence. He talks nothing but church business. I had this experience last week in a small group setting. It set my teeth on edge and my heart a-racing for the door.
My immediate reaction was to help the group 'get real fast'. So what do I do? Start cussing. Nothing like a few swear words to cut through the crap and get to the real stuff. Somebody has to be a role model for being real and not a fake, false, hypocrite. So I, the hot-rod preacher, let my colleagues know how to be real.
I think it helped. At least it spiced up our dull conversation for a millisecond.
Word to my colleagues- if I want to know your church stats- I'll look them up. When I see you I want to know 1) when your next vacation is and where are you going; 2) what have you read lately that I might enjoy; 3) how is your family, you and your hobbies.
be real. be comfortable in your own skin. Lordy, if you cannot.. then God help the church be real!
Wednesday, February 22, 2012
Thursday, February 16, 2012
My Dog Eats
You have not heard much about my pooch and his doggie life of luxury lately... so I thought I'd catch up you up on the comings and goings of my dog, Duke, who is fascinated and obsessed with eating non eatables. His top 5 favorite non-food items are:
When Duke is not eating these things, he keeps up on his other three favorite pastimes: shedding, sleeping and scratching. aka The three S's.
Sigh. what a life!
- Used Kleenex's (apparently they are tastier than clean un-used tissues.)
- Rocks (usually of small to medium size, preferably the right weight and size so that he can vomit them up at 3am onto the tile in the master bathroom.... they make a unique thunking sound.)
- One dollar bills (but I do not go get the remains of the bills from his 'piles' in the backyard. I just let those half chewed Washingtons go.)
- Barbie clothes, shoes, & purse accessories. He has also up-graded to eating baby clothes for Zhu Zhu pets.
- Wooden puzzle pieces (which make it very confusing and difficult to finish any puzzles in our home).
When Duke is not eating these things, he keeps up on his other three favorite pastimes: shedding, sleeping and scratching. aka The three S's.
Sigh. what a life!
Tuesday, February 14, 2012
Confirmands, What's Not to Love?!
One of our finest church matriarchs told me last week that she learned something about me recently. I shuddered wondering if my slip had been showing... but no, it was something else.
"Every year you say the same thing about our Calvary confirmation students. You come into our prayer meetings telling us how amazing they are, how wonderful they are, and how you can see God working in their young lives. You say it every year... doesn't matter who is in the group (like one of my grandsons) but you mean it. (dramatic nod for emphasis) and I have decided that that is about you."
Never been accused of love before- especially on Valentine's Day!
I do love confirmands! I cannot help it. It is within me to love them more and more every year. I do think they are amazing and I see their God-potential to achieve awesome things for God and to love God in awesome ways.
I've tried not liking them. Or at least not loving them as much...but I simply can't do anything but love them. Here's why... they help me see God...
In our class this year there are 21 students; 12 boys and 9 girls. They represent six different schools (public and private). Two of them have experienced adoption. All of them have been baptized (first time in a decade when all our students were baptized as children/infants). All of them are living with only two parents (first time in over a decade when all of the students have had only two parents and not three or four parents who are sharing custody).
Our confirmands are musicians, athletes, artists, dancers, writers, poets, scientists, collectors, students and so on. They are funny, brilliant, quirky, smart, sassy, clever, honest, and spiritual.
Most of all I love them because they are trying to make sense of the faith their parents have been giving them for the past 12 or 13 years.. and figure out what that means for them (at this stage in their lives). And I remember what that was like for me and how important it was that someone "loved me through figuring out my faith for myself".
Accuse me all day long, but yes, I love confirmands!
"Every year you say the same thing about our Calvary confirmation students. You come into our prayer meetings telling us how amazing they are, how wonderful they are, and how you can see God working in their young lives. You say it every year... doesn't matter who is in the group (like one of my grandsons) but you mean it. (dramatic nod for emphasis) and I have decided that that is about you."
Never been accused of love before- especially on Valentine's Day!
I do love confirmands! I cannot help it. It is within me to love them more and more every year. I do think they are amazing and I see their God-potential to achieve awesome things for God and to love God in awesome ways.
I've tried not liking them. Or at least not loving them as much...but I simply can't do anything but love them. Here's why... they help me see God...
In our class this year there are 21 students; 12 boys and 9 girls. They represent six different schools (public and private). Two of them have experienced adoption. All of them have been baptized (first time in a decade when all our students were baptized as children/infants). All of them are living with only two parents (first time in over a decade when all of the students have had only two parents and not three or four parents who are sharing custody).
Our confirmands are musicians, athletes, artists, dancers, writers, poets, scientists, collectors, students and so on. They are funny, brilliant, quirky, smart, sassy, clever, honest, and spiritual.
Most of all I love them because they are trying to make sense of the faith their parents have been giving them for the past 12 or 13 years.. and figure out what that means for them (at this stage in their lives). And I remember what that was like for me and how important it was that someone "loved me through figuring out my faith for myself".
Accuse me all day long, but yes, I love confirmands!
Tuesday, February 7, 2012
Dear Anonymous
Dear Anonymous,
Thank you so much for my postcard last week. Gosh- it felt good to be remembered. And I have had a tough time lately mourning and missing my grandmother. How delightful of you to remember!
Every month I write notes to folks in my church to remember them in their grief. I cannot recall how long ago I started this little card ministry. I always knew it was helpful, meaningful and loving... but when your card came for me this week. Gosh, I puddled up.
Thanks for thinking of me. And I am thankful to receive as well as give comfort.
Blessings,
Michelle
Thank you so much for my postcard last week. Gosh- it felt good to be remembered. And I have had a tough time lately mourning and missing my grandmother. How delightful of you to remember!
Every month I write notes to folks in my church to remember them in their grief. I cannot recall how long ago I started this little card ministry. I always knew it was helpful, meaningful and loving... but when your card came for me this week. Gosh, I puddled up.
Thanks for thinking of me. And I am thankful to receive as well as give comfort.
Blessings,
Michelle
Friday, February 3, 2012
What It Was Like...
My husband asked me a week ago Monday, "So, what does it feel like to hold your first published book in your hands?" Maybe you've wondered about my response. I have.
Two weeks later I think I can finally articlate the sensations of that moment.
First, I noticed the nervous energy that I felt everytime I was the new kid in the classroom (this happened alot during my kindergarten-12th grade experience). "Will they like it (me)? What will they think about the book (me)?" That kind of nervousness. You know the kind.
And after that passed there was a sense of abiding satisfaction. Job well done! Woo hoo! Finally, it is here! Diligence and hard work has it's rewards! Let's have a toast and celebrate kind of satisfaction.
And finally, to be honest, I was left with an open space. I have been mulling over this feeling. It is not an ugly emptyiness nor a scary thing. Almost like I am suddenly noticing that I am hungry kind-of-a-feeling. An open space that will only be satisfied with more... more writing, more sharing, more thinking, and more wrestling with faith and life.
Does this mean I have a hankerin' to hold my second, third and fourth (etc.) published book in my hands? I think the answer is obvious.
Crap- that means what Todd has is contagious!
(People need to be warned.)
Two weeks later I think I can finally articlate the sensations of that moment.
First, I noticed the nervous energy that I felt everytime I was the new kid in the classroom (this happened alot during my kindergarten-12th grade experience). "Will they like it (me)? What will they think about the book (me)?" That kind of nervousness. You know the kind.
And after that passed there was a sense of abiding satisfaction. Job well done! Woo hoo! Finally, it is here! Diligence and hard work has it's rewards! Let's have a toast and celebrate kind of satisfaction.
And finally, to be honest, I was left with an open space. I have been mulling over this feeling. It is not an ugly emptyiness nor a scary thing. Almost like I am suddenly noticing that I am hungry kind-of-a-feeling. An open space that will only be satisfied with more... more writing, more sharing, more thinking, and more wrestling with faith and life.
Does this mean I have a hankerin' to hold my second, third and fourth (etc.) published book in my hands? I think the answer is obvious.
Crap- that means what Todd has is contagious!
(People need to be warned.)
Wednesday, February 1, 2012
My New 'Handle'
During my training this afternoon I bumped into, or at least avoided the puddles, of five of my neighbors who were washing their cars. Imagine the day before Groundhogs' Day folks are walking outside and washing cars?! What happened to winter?
On my second lap I got to wave at our retired neighbor who excells at neighborhood gossip. Do you have one of these in your neighborhood? He has always been fascinated by our family. That is we fascinate him.
"What that about beats all... a preacher married to a Indy Car Racing guy?" was his first meeting with us back in 2006. And his curiousity into our family has not stopped. Over our many years of living in community together he has finally graduated to telling me dirty jokes, "But I don't know if I ever did tell this kind o'joke to any of my preachers!" (By the way I have heard way dirtier jokes from preachers, but I don't dare tell him that!)
His curiosity into my vocation brings up all sorts of comments on religion, politics, and even financial stewardship in the church. One day we decided he had traveled too far into his neighborly nosiness when he chose to discuss sex with my husband and I in our driveway! Apparently he was keen on understanding our sex life because he was quite dissappointed that we had "not yet popped out another one of those (pointing to my daughter digging up worms in the sidewalk cracks) beauties". (Please note that I did not inquire into his current sex life.)
I choked on my own spit.
My husband's counter move was brilliant. (Eric is my knight in shining armor.) Our neighbor walked away that day with more medical detail into why we did not have another child than he ever wanted to know.
Yet, our neighbor remains persistent. This past fall he crowned me with a new nickname after watching us pile out of our new-to-us Ford Mustang convertible. And I actually kinda like this nickname. I've been considering that if I ever need a 'handle' (you know a name for the radio or CB) I could use the one he gave me.
That's right, just call me , "Hot Rod Preacher".
On my second lap I got to wave at our retired neighbor who excells at neighborhood gossip. Do you have one of these in your neighborhood? He has always been fascinated by our family. That is we fascinate him.
"What that about beats all... a preacher married to a Indy Car Racing guy?" was his first meeting with us back in 2006. And his curiousity into our family has not stopped. Over our many years of living in community together he has finally graduated to telling me dirty jokes, "But I don't know if I ever did tell this kind o'joke to any of my preachers!" (By the way I have heard way dirtier jokes from preachers, but I don't dare tell him that!)
His curiosity into my vocation brings up all sorts of comments on religion, politics, and even financial stewardship in the church. One day we decided he had traveled too far into his neighborly nosiness when he chose to discuss sex with my husband and I in our driveway! Apparently he was keen on understanding our sex life because he was quite dissappointed that we had "not yet popped out another one of those (pointing to my daughter digging up worms in the sidewalk cracks) beauties". (Please note that I did not inquire into his current sex life.)
I choked on my own spit.
My husband's counter move was brilliant. (Eric is my knight in shining armor.) Our neighbor walked away that day with more medical detail into why we did not have another child than he ever wanted to know.
Yet, our neighbor remains persistent. This past fall he crowned me with a new nickname after watching us pile out of our new-to-us Ford Mustang convertible. And I actually kinda like this nickname. I've been considering that if I ever need a 'handle' (you know a name for the radio or CB) I could use the one he gave me.
That's right, just call me , "Hot Rod Preacher".
Tuesday, January 24, 2012
Running for God
Is it a sign of progress when you lay in bed at night not sleeping because parts of your nether regions ache after a gruesome workout? If that is success... well, my aches and pains ensure that I am a genuis.
Or an idoit.
Why, I ask myself, did I cook up this crazy notion that I should do the mini-marathon this year?
I'd much rather sleep in winter. Hibernating like a big ol' Momma bear.
Alas, no rest for me, running FOR God not FROM God or TOWARDS God, but with God. sigh.
As Dorie told Merlin the Clown Fish in Finding Nemo, "Just keep swimming."
Just keep walking...and walking and walking.
Or an idoit.
Why, I ask myself, did I cook up this crazy notion that I should do the mini-marathon this year?
I'd much rather sleep in winter. Hibernating like a big ol' Momma bear.
Alas, no rest for me, running FOR God not FROM God or TOWARDS God, but with God. sigh.
As Dorie told Merlin the Clown Fish in Finding Nemo, "Just keep swimming."
Just keep walking...and walking and walking.
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