I seem to have vanished into non-blogging world lately. Life has been a little nutty, and the part of my brain that has been able to put together coherent statements has been occupied with things like sermons. So, lest I entirely forget that I have a blog, here are a few of the highlights from the past few weeks.
1. My colleagues were gone again this Sunday, so I was on my own again for the service this morning. Adding to the fun was the fact that we were picketed by a particularly nasty anti-abortion group. Regardless of your opinion on the issue, I'm fairly certain that waving disgusting posters, shouting Scripture verses (exegeted poorly, in my opinion), and cursing people to an eternity in a lake of fire isn't really the best way to go about expressing it. If I had been hovering on the edge of changing my mind, having "Baby killer!" screamed at me that many times would have pushed me back about 1,000 miles inland. One oddly fortunate thing was that they didn't seem to recognize me as a 'real' minister, despite the fact that I was clearly the one wearing the robe and standing in the pulpit, so most of their rage was directed at our senior pastor - who is currently out of the country.
Speaking of this whole incident, if you find pictures or videos of me floating around the internet on anti-abortion sites, do let me know. I'm not sure why, but these people have been photographing and taping me all week. Good thing I got my hair cut recently.
2. My street has apparently fallen off the deep end. A couple of weeks ago, my dog went nuts because of the sirens going off outside. We walked out the door and found a huge brawl taking place on the street, complete with beer bottles being thrown at cops, and a guy lying in the street bleeding from being stabbed with a fence post that had a nail sticking out of it. Tonight, I came home from church and walked practically into the middle of a domestic dispute in the lawn next door. By the time the police responded to my 911 call, the woman had been dragged screaming into the house, and I have no idea what happened. There is also someone living on the corner. At least I assume someone is living there, as there is a bathroom etagere set up against a tree and filled with personal possessions, a lawn chair, a bed roll, and a shopping cart.
On a lesser note, we also have a skunk, which I believe to be rabid, because it hisses at me and runs toward rather than away from me whenever I see it.
3. I've officiated at two weddings this month. One was in a creek.
4. My social life is not suffering despite all the insane busyness of church, in case you're wondering. My dog is not being neglected either (she might debate that point). What is being neglected is: a) sleep, b) housekeeping, and c) anyone who isn't right here in front of me. When I get busy with things that demand my attention immediately, I am terrible about responding to emails and phone calls from people far away, and even when I return them, I am either distracted or exhausted.
5. My birthday is this week, so I have taken a few days off. I'm looking forward to catching up on the neglected items listed above.
Sunday, August 31, 2008
Wednesday, August 13, 2008
A post from a couple of weeks ago that I apparently didn't actually publish...
My colleagues have been on vacation, and I've been managing the church on my own for a couple of weeks now. It's that weird combination of stressful and good that ministry often is. I sort of feel like my head could come flying off at any moment, and yet I'm enjoying the chance to get to know the church in a different way - and it is different, when they can't go to the senior pastor or the associate who generally handles all the pastoral care situations. My position here is so different from what I did as a solo pastor that it's probably good to be reminded that I'm still a minister, who is fully capable of visiting the hospital, conducting worship services, preaching, and calling visitors. Life is good. And yet, I'm very glad that my colleagues are returning soon.
I really like having colleagues. I'd probably feel differently if we didn't get along as well, or if I were over-managed, or if I didn't trust them to do their jobs well, or if there wasn't freedom for me to contribute to the whole life of the church outside of my job description. But we do get along well, and they treat me as an equal, and we have that good balance of trusting each other to do our own jobs but collaborating on the things that affect the whole church. So, I miss them when they're gone, not just because I find myself doing things that don't quite fit in my job description, but because I've grown used to consulting them and working together. Also, I just like talking to them. It's weird when I can't shout down the hall at them, or hit a button on my phone and yap at them. Although, I'm kind of glad they can't see what a mess my office is right now.
Also, I could really use a vacation of my own now. I had yesterday off, and that was good, but it wasn't quite enough.
I really like having colleagues. I'd probably feel differently if we didn't get along as well, or if I were over-managed, or if I didn't trust them to do their jobs well, or if there wasn't freedom for me to contribute to the whole life of the church outside of my job description. But we do get along well, and they treat me as an equal, and we have that good balance of trusting each other to do our own jobs but collaborating on the things that affect the whole church. So, I miss them when they're gone, not just because I find myself doing things that don't quite fit in my job description, but because I've grown used to consulting them and working together. Also, I just like talking to them. It's weird when I can't shout down the hall at them, or hit a button on my phone and yap at them. Although, I'm kind of glad they can't see what a mess my office is right now.
Also, I could really use a vacation of my own now. I had yesterday off, and that was good, but it wasn't quite enough.
Monday, August 04, 2008
Feet
I know I said this blog wouldn't get much attention this week, but it's just such a darned good way to blow off steam when my head feels like it's about to explode. It is NO FUN being the only pastor around in a church that is accustomed to having three. I need to be writing one of the three sermon-like things I'll be preaching this week, but instead I'm opting for a momentary diversion to something completely unrelated.
Yesterday I wrote about relationship-building via the internet. I have a high proportion of friendships I've either started or primarily maintained online, so I guess it's safe to say that I'm sold on the medium. Internet dating, however, has eluded me. I don't trust it, for me. I know people who have done it well. I just cannot bring myself to make an earnest attempt at it. I'm not serious enough about dating for the "match you with your soul mate" sites, and not casual enough about it for the pick-up sites.
I did go on one date in college with a guy I'd met online. In the first five minutes, he said, "I just really want to get married, settle down in a small town, and have a bunch of kids." I said, "I want to travel a lot, move around, live in cities, and never have kids." We spent a lovely, pressure-free dinner together, because it was clear that this would never work. I also once created a free eharmony profile. I found myself cringing every time I got a "You've been matched!" email, and deleted it. Thus endeth the internet dating.
However, given the pool of people I meet in person, I can understand why people take that route. I was recently the recipient of the unique but creepy pick-up line, "You have beautiful feet, but you should paint those gorgeous toenails of yours." When I said I was going home to write a sermon, he said, "Could your feet use some pampering while you write?" Um, no.
Yesterday I wrote about relationship-building via the internet. I have a high proportion of friendships I've either started or primarily maintained online, so I guess it's safe to say that I'm sold on the medium. Internet dating, however, has eluded me. I don't trust it, for me. I know people who have done it well. I just cannot bring myself to make an earnest attempt at it. I'm not serious enough about dating for the "match you with your soul mate" sites, and not casual enough about it for the pick-up sites.
I did go on one date in college with a guy I'd met online. In the first five minutes, he said, "I just really want to get married, settle down in a small town, and have a bunch of kids." I said, "I want to travel a lot, move around, live in cities, and never have kids." We spent a lovely, pressure-free dinner together, because it was clear that this would never work. I also once created a free eharmony profile. I found myself cringing every time I got a "You've been matched!" email, and deleted it. Thus endeth the internet dating.
However, given the pool of people I meet in person, I can understand why people take that route. I was recently the recipient of the unique but creepy pick-up line, "You have beautiful feet, but you should paint those gorgeous toenails of yours." When I said I was going home to write a sermon, he said, "Could your feet use some pampering while you write?" Um, no.
Sunday, August 03, 2008
Community and such
I spent the weekend at an Irish Festival. Yes, the whole weekend; I even took Sunday off, which is something I almost never do unless I've left the country or something. Certainly not when I'm an hour and a half away. But I did for this festival, because this massive group of friends were converging upon the Frankfort Fair Grounds, and there was no way I was going to miss it.
We are an odd group, ranging across a broad variety of ages, backgrounds, and hometowns. We only know each other because, at some point, we came across this band, and something about them struck us as special enough to visit the website and find the message board, or keep going to shows until we began to know the other people there. It doesn't take long. They - or we, I guess it is at this point - are a peculiarly welcoming group. The first time I met some of these people, they said, "You should come to Ireland with us!" And I did...although at the time, I walked away thinking that was the most ridiculous idea ever.
I'm usually a little reticent to tell other people how I know this particular group of friends. I hate the idea of being a groupie, and besides, it's come to feel so much less about the band than about the odd family that comes together around them that "groupie" is just not the right word. We are not swooning teenage girls. Well, some of us are, but that's just accepted as one more of our various eccentricities. I also hesitate to tell people that a significant group of my friends are people I know primarily online. Despite so much of our lives being connected to the internet, that still rings of the pathetic, and I find myself wanting to defend the fact that I have a real life, an in-person life, and that this, too, is part of my real life.
I've moved a lot in the last thirteen years, and I know I'm not the only one. Nearly everyone I know is at least somewhat transient. We go where school or work calls us; we move to get closer to family or to distance ourselves from them. Social circles shift constantly. I've never had trouble meeting people, but even I have to admit, it's often hard to find real friends - and then you never know when one of you is going to move again. Community doesn't just happen by virtue of geographical proximity and familial connections anymore; it's an effort. But it's something people long for. We are not created to be alone.
I have suspicion of the internet on some levels. It's so easy to misrepresent yourself, and so easy to avoid the difficulty of dealing with the foibles and disagreements that crop up in face-to-face interaction. But I also depend on the internet, to keep in touch with the people I've known in the multiple cities where I've lived, for the network of other young clergywomen who support each other in what is still a somewhat unusual life, and yes, to help me build community with odd groups of people who connect over things as small and seemingly meaningless as a band. Though we seldom get to share a meal, as was and is so important in the lives of Jesus' community, the weirdness of the internet makes it possible for this diverse group of people to occasionally sit down over a fabulous outdoor brunch the morning after a show. For that, I am thankful.
We are an odd group, ranging across a broad variety of ages, backgrounds, and hometowns. We only know each other because, at some point, we came across this band, and something about them struck us as special enough to visit the website and find the message board, or keep going to shows until we began to know the other people there. It doesn't take long. They - or we, I guess it is at this point - are a peculiarly welcoming group. The first time I met some of these people, they said, "You should come to Ireland with us!" And I did...although at the time, I walked away thinking that was the most ridiculous idea ever.
I'm usually a little reticent to tell other people how I know this particular group of friends. I hate the idea of being a groupie, and besides, it's come to feel so much less about the band than about the odd family that comes together around them that "groupie" is just not the right word. We are not swooning teenage girls. Well, some of us are, but that's just accepted as one more of our various eccentricities. I also hesitate to tell people that a significant group of my friends are people I know primarily online. Despite so much of our lives being connected to the internet, that still rings of the pathetic, and I find myself wanting to defend the fact that I have a real life, an in-person life, and that this, too, is part of my real life.
I've moved a lot in the last thirteen years, and I know I'm not the only one. Nearly everyone I know is at least somewhat transient. We go where school or work calls us; we move to get closer to family or to distance ourselves from them. Social circles shift constantly. I've never had trouble meeting people, but even I have to admit, it's often hard to find real friends - and then you never know when one of you is going to move again. Community doesn't just happen by virtue of geographical proximity and familial connections anymore; it's an effort. But it's something people long for. We are not created to be alone.
I have suspicion of the internet on some levels. It's so easy to misrepresent yourself, and so easy to avoid the difficulty of dealing with the foibles and disagreements that crop up in face-to-face interaction. But I also depend on the internet, to keep in touch with the people I've known in the multiple cities where I've lived, for the network of other young clergywomen who support each other in what is still a somewhat unusual life, and yes, to help me build community with odd groups of people who connect over things as small and seemingly meaningless as a band. Though we seldom get to share a meal, as was and is so important in the lives of Jesus' community, the weirdness of the internet makes it possible for this diverse group of people to occasionally sit down over a fabulous outdoor brunch the morning after a show. For that, I am thankful.
Saturday, August 02, 2008
B is for Busy
I just realized that I've been neglecting my blog. Things have been a bit busy around here. I took last weekend off to go to an Irish festival, which was fabulous, and I have about half a post done about the odd and fun little community with whom I camped there. That post got set aside, however, when the realities of work set in, and I found that I had to a) catch up for the time I was gone, b) do all my normal job things, and c) kick it into gear for the next two weeks, as both of my colleagues are gone and I am going it solo. Suddenly I have to do things like visit hospitals and write sermons. Yes, these are things ministers usually do. Yes, I did these things for three years. That doesn't mean I've quite wrapped my head around getting back into that routine yet. I've slipped quite easily into my non-profit liaison/bistro chaplain/youth worker role, and it's not the easiest thing to yank myself back into "Oh, you mean I have to preside over the entire worship service?" mode.
So, I'm preaching tomorrow for the first time in...a while. I'm also leading the liturgy and presiding at communion. Oh, and I'm singing. This could be interesting. I am envisioning a blur of black robes, green stole, and blond hair. I keep reminding myself that I used to do this all the time, with no colleagues to assist. Fortunately, the sermon is finished.
However, I also have to prepare for Jazz Vespers for tomorrow evening. And then there's next week, in which we are hosting a summer lunch program and holding VBS, and I will be doing a wedding Friday, preaching Sunday, and leading our very first Chamber Vespers service. Wheeeeeee. I do not expect this blog to see much action.
So, I'm preaching tomorrow for the first time in...a while. I'm also leading the liturgy and presiding at communion. Oh, and I'm singing. This could be interesting. I am envisioning a blur of black robes, green stole, and blond hair. I keep reminding myself that I used to do this all the time, with no colleagues to assist. Fortunately, the sermon is finished.
However, I also have to prepare for Jazz Vespers for tomorrow evening. And then there's next week, in which we are hosting a summer lunch program and holding VBS, and I will be doing a wedding Friday, preaching Sunday, and leading our very first Chamber Vespers service. Wheeeeeee. I do not expect this blog to see much action.
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