Our Visit to the National Mosque

Last week we went to the National Mosque in Kuala Lumpur, Malaysia. And let me tell you, I learned a lot. I wanted to share some of the things I learned and how my heart has been changed this year, because I know not everyone has a chance to live in a beautiful country like this one and I understand some people don't feel comfortable asking potentially offensive questions about our Muslim sisters and brothers.

Wait back up- you voluntarily went to a mosque?

Islam has an incredibly obvious influence on Malaysia's culture, people, architecture, and basically every other part of Malaysia. We wanted to not only see this incredible landmark, but we hoped to learn a little more about what makes Malaysia so unique and beautiful. We also couldn't pass up this opportunity to learn more about our sisters and brothers. 

Did you have to wear one of those things on your head? 

People who enter mosques, whether they are Muslim or tourists, are expected to respect and observe the modesty enforced by the religion. Knowing this, I gladly ventured to the mosque in a long skirt and long sleeves, carrying a scarf to cover my head when we arrived. Daniel and his brother wore long pants and shirts with sleeves as is expected of them. We also took off our shoes, as we were instructed, before entering the main area of the mosque. 

Didn't you feel oppressed, having to cover your head like that? 

I have become fairly used to dressing modestly here in Malaysia. My experience as a pastor this year has also changed my view on modesty - especially as it pertains to my religious beliefs and piety. It is beautifully expressed in the pamphlet I picked up inside the mosque: 

"Women are not here to be displayed. Her body is not for public consumption. She will not be an advertisement tool. She has a soul, a mind, and she is the servant of Allah. Her worth is defined by the beauty of her soul, her heart, her moral character. With her headscarf she put her faith on display rather than her beauty. Her submission is not to fashion, nor to men, but to the Creator." (Read the rest of the pamphlet here.) 

It seems that Islam has a better view of women than many Christian churches I have encountered (sorry 'bout it).

Hijaab (modest dress) is not only to cover nudity, to protect, and to decorate, but it is the spiritual clothing of "piety," similar to the way a nun or monk might wear a habit or hood. It is a symbol of her identity as a Muslim, in the same way my collar identifies me as a pastor.

Right, but Daniel didn't have to cover his head. 

Men are also expected to observe a certain dress code within Islam. For both genders, clothes are to be modest and humble (loose, not transparent, nothing showy). Men are expected to be covered from their navel to their knees.

So people were nice to you? They didn't kick you out since you're Americans?

All the people we encountered were not only super welcoming, but they seemed genuinely interested in answering our questions. We weren't entirely sure what to expect, but they told us about the main prayer room and made sure we knew we could pick up informational pamphlets. They pamphlets (very obviously directed toward tourists) were written in several languages including English, Spanish, Mandarin, Portuguese, Italian, and German. I picked up the ones that seemed most interesting (read: things I knew nothing about) like "Hijaab" (mentioned above), "The Shariah," "How does a lady raised in Alabama become a Muslim?" and "Jihad."

So what else did you learn? 

Jihad is the duty of Muslims to struggle for peace, justice and truth. The pamphlet says "fighting tyranny, corruption, exploitation, occupation and oppression is jihad."

The forceful, defensive parts of the pamphlets made me sad that they even needed to include them. But it must be said more often that "to say Muslim terrorists represent Islam is like saying the Ku Klux Klan represents Christianity." The pamphlet that explains Shariah says that the majority (about 70%) deals with rituals of worship, about 25% deals with personal laws (like dietary regulations), and only 5% are penal laws for "crimes which are most destructive for society and the family, like murder, adultery and theft."

In truth, there was nothing to be afraid of or even nervous about, walking into that mosque. And there is nothing to be afraid of when it comes to Islam. We have a lot in common with our Muslim sisters and brothers - even if we aren't able to see it right away (there may be a crazy comparative theology blog post coming soon).

I certainly understand people's hesitation or fear (whichever it might be) when it comes to the public displays of devotion and piety of Islam. Before moving to Malaysia, I didn't see many people in hijaab in my daily life. I never walked into a mosque before last week. But I have come to understand that our fear is mostly caused by the unknown. When we begin to learn about those who are seemingly unlike us, we can start to see common ground and understand one another.

It's my prayer that my fear of the unknown will always be overshadowed by my love for God's children and my desire for understanding. It is my prayer for you, my friends and family, as well. I know it's not easy, but it starts with small steps - like taking off our shoes (sometimes covering our heads) and stepping into the holy unknown.

A Different Way

This is the sermon I wrote the day after the Freddie Gray's funeral in Baltimore. I wrote it with tears in my eyes, with an aching heart. I wrote it because it is what I needed to hear. I preached it yesterday morning. I was terrified to be preaching about something so controversial and I was so blessed by the reception I received...

A few weeks ago when I began writing this sermon, I turned to my friend in the midst of sermon prep and said, “I just don’t have anything new to say about ‘love one another.’”  Now, it seems, I have too much to say, but no way of saying it.  It is with sighs too deep for words that I come before you this morning.  

What are we supposed to do in this world?  I feel helpless.  I feel angry and sad.  As I struggle to get my words on paper, I feel my whole soul sighing in desperation for this world.  “Come, Lord Jesus,” I pray, not really expecting an answer.  

What are we supposed to do in this world?  I am overwhelmed.  I am overwhelmed by the unjustified police violence throughout our country.  I am overwhelmed by the riots in Baltimore.  I am overwhelmed by the hatred I see in Facebook posts and comments from people who I have known to be loving and caring.  I am overwhelmed by the cries of the thousands who are denied their basic rights because of their sexual orientation.  I am overwhelmed by the despair and death in Nepal.  

What are we supposed to do in this world?  We are constantly told that violence is the answer - even when we have ignored the question.  This world tells us that the only way to be heard is to yell louder than our opponent.  We are told that the only way to make it to the top is to lie, cheat, and steal our way there.  This world continues to say that “justice” only applies if you are a part of the majority.  This world is telling us that only some lives matter. 

We cannot believe this world.  In fact, as Christians we DO not believe this world.  We have been baptized into the Body of Christ and we KNOW the truth.  It is not violence that triumphs.  It is not anger and vengeance that prevails.  Hate is not the answer.  

The lies of this world are just that - lies.  We cannot believe them.  No matter how true they feel in this week, in this time, in this place, we must cling to the real truth.  

And the real truth is this: Strength is in weakness.  Triumph is in death on a cross.  The gospel declares that Jesus’ death is the first pivotal moment - the moment where God’s reign breaks into this world.  And God’s reign does not look like this world at all.  The kingdom of God declares that love is the answer, that the way to be heard is to lay yourself down for another.  The kingdom of God calls us to be compassionate, careful, and righteous with our words and our actions.  

Jesus’ life shows us that even when it looks like hatred and violence wins, God is stronger, God prevails, God conquers death and the devil in order to restore the world.  We must not let this world overwhelm us, we must be overcome with Christ’s love.  

When we are overcome with Christ’s love, we see the world in a different way.  When we have the faith to abide in Jesus and he in us, our perspective becomes more holy, more heartbroken.  

I used to pray a very simple prayer when I was in college, “Lord, break my heart for the things that break your heart.”  What I realized was, that is way too hard.  There are too many things that break my heart now.  I am bogged down with the tragedies of this world.  But it gave me new eyes.  And when we become overwhelmed with Christ’s love for the world, we will have new eyes in Christ.  Now I pray that whole world’s heart would break for the things that break God’s heart. 

Because when that happens, when we begin using “God lenses,” we will see a new world.  We will see new answers.  When we see tragedies in this world, such as the earthquake in Nepal, the avalanche on Mt Everest, and the police violence throughout our cities, we will feel them deep within us as personal tragedies.  For they are not just the people of Nepal.  They are not just homosexual and transgender people in cities, they are not just African American people in Baltimore or North Charleston.  Jesus tells us that these people are our brothers and sisters.  And we are called to love them.  In fact, more than that - something that seems quite scandalous - we are called to love them so much that we would lay our lives down for them.  We skip over that line and dismiss it as a metaphor because it seems too hard, the stakes are too high if we say we must die.  

But the stakes are too high.  Our brothers and sisters are dying. They are being beaten to death, abused, denied basic human rights.  Whether the violence of the killing of an unarmed black man, or the violence of rioting in response to it - we are told that this is normal.  Our world tells us that this is okay.  Sin declares that this is how we bring about change.  But I promise you, my sisters and brothers, what the world says is normal is not normal at all.  Violence and hatred are not from God.  They are satanic, they are parasitic to the world that God created for wholeness, peace, shalom.  

We are called to throw away our tribal allegiances - whatever they might be. Jesus tells us in this very passage that there is a different way.  There is a the way of unity, righteousness, and peace.  God’s way is the way of love.  

The redemption of this world will not come from violence.  It will not come from hatred and abuse.  The reign of God does not come in anger and vengeance.  The kingdom of God breaks into this world when despite everything - despite the world telling us that violence is the only answer, that death will continue forever, that hatred is stronger - the kingdom of God breaks into this world when we decide to love. In this world that will continue to tell us we must kill one another, God says that we must die for another.  We are all brothers and sisters in Christ.  There is no “us” and “them.”  

And in this time of overwhelming violence, hatred, pointing fingers, and laying blame - we must remember that God says there is a different way and that it starts with us.  

It starts with this community.  It starts on a small scale - a relationship scale.  This new way of living, the kingdom of God in this world starts when people like you and me decide to love.  Instead of hating, instead of holding a grudge, instead of disregarding people because they look different, love different, or act different from us, we can decide to love.  

God works in small ways.  God is working the hearts of the thousands of volunteers who have gone to Nepal to help in recovery.  God was working through the hands of the people who came out the next morning in Baltimore to clean up the streets.  God is working in the Lutheran church as we continue to work to make our sanctuaries safe places for people of different sexual orientations, races, and backgrounds.  God is working. There is no denying that.  So let us offer up our own hands and feet, our own hearts and souls, in order to live into the love that God has so graciously and freely given us.  The Kingdom of God starts here. In this community.  Loving one another starts with us. 

Mom (Wife?)

Throughout my entire life I have always wanted to be one thing: a mom.

Weirdly enough, I had never really thought about being a wife.  I guess it would make sense that those two things go together but they never have in my mind. Now, my friends will tell you that I have thought about marriage.  This isn't exactly accurate. I've thought a lot about a wedding. A big party. A white dress. Lots of friends.  But I've never really thought about a marriage.

I don't think I've ever wanted to be alone though. Maybe it's the fact that I have never wanted to define myself by being someone's wife. I don't know what it is, but I have always kind of imagined myself hanging out with my best friend and raising kids.  Who knows, maybe that's what marriage is supposed to be.

Despite being in a relationship pretty consistently since about eighth grade, I have never imagined married life for myself.  (This might have something to do with a broken engagement, but we never really unpacked that during CPE.)

I have, however, imagined my life being a mom.  Since coming home from Honduras in January, I have started researching adoption laws and reading fiction and nonfiction books about adoption.  It has become a problem. (Haha)  But the funny thing about it is that I'm serious.  My friends roll their eyes and laugh at me when I talk about adoption, but I can't wait.  Many countries I've researched require adoptive parents to be married, 25 years old, and have a steady income.  Honduras is just about that "easy."  Three more years and a steady income.

Despite imagining myself as a mom and not a wife, I have never thought I would be alone.  Actually, I'm afraid I might be alone.  You see, I don't have normal plans for my life.

You've already heard about the adoption thing.  To take it a bit further from normal, I don't really want to give birth to any children.  Seriously. Cue my fear of hospitals and the fact that I think I'd be THE worst pregnant woman on earth.  One step further from normal: I think I'd like four or five kids (or more).

I also want to travel and live paycheck to paycheck, loving as many people as I possibly can. Possibly in a mud hut. Possibly without running water and electricity.

Not many people want to live close to poverty and devote their lives to people in another country. Even if it sounds like a good idea for a few months, it would be hard for most people to put their dreams of a normal family, house, and stability on hold for five or ten years. It's hard for me to think about it and it's something I've thought about for many years.  It's hard for me to ask someone to disregard what they think of as a "normal" relationship, and plunge into the unpredictability of adventure and love.

I'm already running and I need someone to run beside me and be my partner.  I don't know if that means marriage or a husband.  And that's pretty terrifying. Especially considering I'm in a relationship with a man for whom I'd give all of that up.

But maybe that's okay.  Maybe that's the point.  Maybe we are supposed to be so in love that we would give our dreams up for one another but we are also so in love that we would never ever ask one another to.

Such is life. Paradox.

Labels: I'm not done talking.

When I was younger (let's say about 12 and 13 years old), I met my best friend. I was wearing red pants on the first day of school and it was a match made in heaven. What most people didn't know was that I was wearing red pants because I had posed in front of the giant 4x8 foot Bush-Cheney 2004 sign in my parents' front yard. But she could tell I was political. More than that, she knew I was on her side- a conservative.

I remained political throughout junior high school. I got into political arguments on a regular basis. I was as conservative as they come. I was adorned with elephants and wore red all the time to show my pride.

Why was I conservative? A lot of people would probably say it is because my parents were. That's where we get it to begin with, right? But I think my parents ended up being more political because of me, not the other way around.

I was a Republican because my dad was in the military and a lot of people I cared about were in the military and I knew that the conservatives in office were looking out for them better than the liberals. That was the basis for my political affiliation.

I grew up thinking you could only be in one category. You had to be a part of "us" or "them."  I think a lot of people grew up with that same stereotype. You had to be liberal or conservative. You had to be a boy or a girl. You had to be an athlete or a theater geek.

It wasn't until my junior year of high school that I figured out I had been lied to. Surprise: you didn't have to be in just one group. You are allowed to agree with some views and disagree with others. In fact, I learned, most people are just like that- not many Republicans agree with every single agenda item on the Republican Party platform. And that goes for almost every other group affiliation as well.

I'm allowed to be a Lutheran without agreeing with every single thing Lutheran doctrine states. I'm allowed to be a conservative liberal. Even though 7th grade me would have scoffed at that.

I'm allowed to believe that justice is the goal of the government but without invading other people's rights in the process of achieving it.

I'm allowed to believe that the Church has some things wrong. I'm allowed to believe that right wing Republicans have a lot of things wrong. But I can also believe that Democrats have some things wrong as well.

It is hard coming back to Virginia where most people are Republican- really Republican- and trying to explain the ways in which I have changed. I have even had people ask me, "you're still a good young Republican, right?"

I don't want to be put in the group with Republicans. Not because I don't like them, but because I don't like labels. Think of what kind of other labels people might put on me if I say I'm Republican-

Homophobic
Gun-slinger
War monger
Elitist
Unsympathetic to the poor
Country hick

And what kind of stereotypes come up if I say I'm liberal?

Hippie
Socialist
Gay (I've heard it)
Uneducated
Tree hugger
Pussyfoot (heard that too)

So I say I'm a conservative liberal. What can people say to that? Besides that I'm confused. And I'm okay with that. Don't put labels on me.

I'm allowed to believe in traditional marriage and fight for gay rights.
I'm allowed to call myself a Christian and believe that sometimes abortions are okay.
I'm allowed to feed the homeless and feel that the welfare system needs an overhaul.
I'm allowed to live in a country with a representative democracy and wish I was living in the Kingdom of God instead.

Think about it: we aren't even allowed to label ourselves or other people. Who labeled the can of soup you eat? The people who created it. Who labels the shoes you wear? The creator of the shoes. Who labels the computer you're reading from? The people who made the computer.

So who gets to label you? Only God. And His labels are perfect:

You are precious: Isaiah 43:4
You are one of a kind: Psalm 139:14
You are favored: Psalm 5:12
You are blessed: Deuteronomy 28:1-14
You are loved: John 3:16

Hippies, Politics, & Rainbows - Oh My!

Dear Jesus, thank You for bringing people into our lives to change our minds. Thank You for bringing people into our lives to challenge our beliefs. Thank You for bringing change to a nation that has stood blind to oppression for so many years. Lord, please continue Your work. And please be with the people who wish to reverse the work of Your Holy Spirit. We pray for them now, Lord, that you may soften their hearts and show them love. And be with the people who have not yet seen the fruits of your work. Let me feel Your comforting embrace and know that You are with them. Amen

_________________________________________________

My general rule in politics is this: if it is not infringing upon my rights as an individual or business-- if it is giving more rights and freedoms to more people without infringing on mine, yippee!--, and as long as it is not threatening my safety or the safety of my fellow citizens of the world, I'm pretty okay with it. There's gray area of course. But in general, that's how I figure out if I am for or against an issue.

It seems a little bit hippie (so I've heard), but it is my own model. I can be hippie if I want.

So here is my reaction to the Supreme Court decision that homosexuals can marry in California:

Hooray! I'm so excited for people who are being granted more freedoms!
Hooray! States rights!

But, you protest, I am a Christian. How could I believe that gay marriage is okay? Nay, I say, I am a Jesus lover and follower of Christ, not a Christian (but that is neither here nor there). Well... I believe that love comes from God. And if God made it possible for two same-sex people to love one another so much that they want to get married, go for it.

Here's what I'm against:
Forcing heterosexual people to marry homosexuals. They're not doing that, right?
Forcing homosexuals to marry one another. They're not doing that, right?
Forcing heterosexuals to marry one another. They're not doing that, right?
Restricting the rights of heterosexuals to marry the person they love. They're not doing that, right?
Restricting the rights of homosexuals to marry the person they love. They're just starting to wrap their heads around that!

What is it hurting? Yeah yeah we, as a nation, are founded on Christian principles yadda yadda.

The same men who founded this country on Christian principles also owned slaves. Wanna go back to that?
The same men who founded this country on Christian principles also had children with those slaves. I'm pretty sure adultery is a sin.

Where do we draw the line? You want Christian principles back in this country? Let's stone women again. Let's outlaw anything that is an abomination in God's eyes.

Adultery = outlawed
Masturbation = outlawed
Women on their period in public = outlawed
Sex before marriage = outlawed
Using God's name in vain = outlawed
Disrespecting your parents = outlawed

What good would it do anyway? This nation used to outlaw black people from drinking at certain water fountains. Did that stop them from being black? This used to restrict Native Americans to a certain piece of land. Did that stop them from being Native Americans? We can outlaw gay marriage, but it will not stop people from being homosexual.

I know people who would change if they could. They have hurt enough. But it is not a decision, it is not a behavior- they were born homosexuals. It cannot be cured and it cannot be outlawed. If we can ease the pain for people who have been outcast and squash the stigma that homosexuality is some sort of disease or "issue" we need to fix, let's do it. Human beings should not suffer.

Here's my (other) issue with Christians:

We (heterosexual Christians) are not affected in ANY way by homosexuals being able to marry one another.

We are, however, being watched very closely for our reactions to changes like this. If Christians continue to be sticks in the mud about progress and change, we will die out faster than you can say a Hail Mary.

What good does it do for our Church to look at sinners and say, "God hates you for what you are doing and I do too?"

Our generation should be looking for new ways to show the same people- homosexuals, heterosexuals, Native Americans, foreign immigrants, the oppressed, the victimized- that God loves them no matter what. We are all sinners. No one is exempt from God's judgement. We have all been bought by the Blood of Christ Jesus.

I just think a lot of people would live happier lives if they were more concerned with loving their neighbor than hating anyone who sins. But then again, I'm probably just a hippie.

This I (sort of) Believe

Lately, I have been thinking a lot about the difference between what we want to believe and what we actually do believe.

And it has been tearing me apart.


I want to believe a lot of things:

I want to believe that humanity is good at heart.
I want to believe that people who do cruel things are the exception, not the rule.
I want to believe that the government is going to protect our rights.
I want to believe that the God of today is more like the God of the New Testament and less like the God of the Old Testament.
I want to believe that when bad things happen it is not always because God is teaching us a lesson.
I want to believe that the financial insecurity of being a pastor will not interfere with my plans for a family and a future.
I want to believe that I can be without luxuries and not complain.
I want to believe that there are many more good people than hurtful people in the world.

I want to believe these things. I'm not sure I'm quite there yet. Social media and mainstream media hurts my beliefs in many ways. The news likes to reports all of the "oh no's" of the world, not the "oh yeses!"  I think it hurts a lot of people's faith, not just mine. It is hard being an upbeat Christian when much of the world around you seems to be saying that everything is going wrong and people are cruel.

With school shootings, kidnapping, and genocide, it is really hard to look at humanity and believe that it is really a nice group with which to be associated. I don't want to be a part of this fallen world, but the reality is that I am. And as a part of it, I am constantly searching for that small bit of hope in a world that is telling me there is none. I think many people in the older generation don't believe the children and grandchildren they raised can be joyful in a world of despair. I think it is hard for everyone in every generation. But I think our generation is more willing to look for what gives us hope. We won't take "despair" for an answer.

On this day, when I learned that one of my childhood best friends committed suicide... I'm looking for hope. I'm looking for something to cling to. I'm looking for joy in the midst of sorrow.

Jesus is my hope.

Jesus is what turns my "I want to believe" into "I really do believe" on a daily basis. My faith is small and still growing, so my hope is not always as well-developed as I would like it to be. But it is there. Jesus is the reason my psychological assessment reads, "she often views the world through rose-colored glasses." Jesus is my rose-colored glasses.

I DO believe that God has a plan for my life and for the lives of everyone in this world.
I DO believe that I can learn from the mistakes that I have made as well as the mistakes of others.
I DO believe that although we are fallen, God has given us new hope in the death and resurrection of Jesus Christ.
I DO believe that my gifts and my call has led me to seminary this fall, despite and because of everything that this life has put me through.
I DO believe that I am saved.
I DO believe that everyone in the entire world is saved.

That is what I cling to. Don't we deserve a little hope in a world that seems to be falling apart around us? Don't we deserve to be called "beloved?"

An Ode a Friend (or two)

What if we met people that turned our worlds inside out and upside down when we needed it most?

What if people who completely shock your world continue to be a part of this ever changing piece of your life? Instead of just suddenly coming in and out of your life like lightening, what if they stay?

What if you continue to carry them with you throughout your life? Would they continue to change you or would you eventually grow accustomed to the changes and no longer feel their pull on your life?

I have this best friend. And I'm going to call her out because I'm that type of person.

Alex is the type of person you meet and you just can't help but tell her truth. All the time. Even if it gets you in trouble. She is someone I can be completely honest with and often times she shrugs her shoulders and says, "me too."  She is incredibly beautiful and she brings joy into people's lives before they even know what is going on.

She did that to me. And now I can't imagine my life without our late night talks about boys that turn into talks about faith and love and God and humanity and frailty and hurt.  Sometimes after we get off of a heavy subject, we step back and say, "woah! Where did that come from? That was weird. We should have recorded that."

We have dreams of leading a congregation together one day. Maybe not so far from now. I know that wherever I end up as a pastor, I will be employing her. She is one of the only people that is on the same (if not higher) level as me with organization and scheduling.  We would have the most efficient church in the world. At least that's what I'm telling myself.

But that's not the only reason I want her next to me in a congregation. She has a way of challenging me and questioning life that makes me want to be a better person. Don't get the wrong idea- I'm bragging about my best friend. I really wish I could keep all of her brilliance to myself but at the same time I wish I could share her with the entire world because people deserve joy. They deserve questions and challenges and hope. That's what Alex is to me. Alex is the embodiment of the idea that people aren't all bad. And that you don't have to be perfect to be really wonderful. And that God really has created people who love.

She has these brilliant moments that could make any theologian or preacher blush. (I fully plan on taking credit for them one day and sprinkling them around my sermons.)

One such remark was made when we were talking about how much love sucks- I mean hurts. 

"Love is how we touch God.  So we keep loving people and ourselves because it lets us touch Him.  But it hurts to touch holiness."

She'll deny it all day long, but she makes me a better person (besides our filthy language when we get together). She makes me love God more and lets me feel okay when I don't want to love God at all.

After my last blog post, Alex was the first one to tell me (almost immediately) that she loves me for me. No motives. No conditions. 

But she also told me that she's not the only one. There are people around me who love me because I am me. And I believe her. Weird. 

I have another friend who likes to challenge things. Although we haven't gotten into anything too deep, he's definitely on the same level with Alex and me. We question and poke and prod and we're generally unsatisfied with the answers found in text books or passed down for years. Tradition has its place but there's also room for growth and change. Someday we'll have a church. Someday God will be working through the three of us- more than He already is- and creating something new. 

I hope they continue to change me.  If I am able to keep them with me- physically, emotionally, distantly, directly- I want them to keep changing me in the ways that they did when they first shook up my life.  I want them to challenge me and push me toward something greater.

But I also want them to love me as boldly and fearlessly as they did at the very beginning. I never want that passion to dull.  That new friendship with the questions and discoveries- our favorite parts as a curious humanity.  I want all of that to continue with my best friends. I want them to be my coworkers and my Bible Study members and my Christmas dinner guests.

And they will be. Because God really likes threes. And He really likes messing up people's lives for good. 

It would have killed me.

Part of the preparation for a Lutheran (ELCA specifically) seminarian is to go through a psychological assessment.  With real psychologists and real counselors.  For two whole days.  It sounds a bit intimidating right? It is.

But it is necessary to the process of discernment - a type of inward journey to find out how/what God is calling you to do.  One of the main objectives of the psych assessment is to help you recognize and "treat" your weaknesses or vulnerabilities.  They focus on your strengths toom but typically you have a good idea about your strengths before you go in.  Sometimes your vulnerabilities are harder to identify - or at least admit.

One of my flaws/weaknesses/things-to-work-on is my business.  I always feels like I have to have a new project.  This wouldn't be so bad if I handled this compulsive behavior in a healthy way.  But my other vulnerability is feeling it necessary to care for other people before - and often in place of - caring for myself.  I neglect my own needs for the needs of others.  So much so that I make it my eternal project.  If I'm not constantly doing something for someone else (solving a problem, editing a paper, being a helper), I feel like I am failing.

This probably doesn't sound so bad, right? Pastors and volunteers are supposed to think of others before they think of themselves.  The problem is that it has manifested into unrealistic expectations for myself. I push myself to the point of exhaustion and then I take out my frustration on the people I care about most. It's not healthy. I don't know how to rest.

A few weeks after my psych assessment I had a full-blown panic attack at the Shrove Tuesday pancake supper at church. Uh yikes. That opened my eyes to the problem and made me accept it as a reality.

The second step after the psych assessment and before my entrance interview (on April 11th!!) is to work on my vulnerabilities.  The psychologist and counselor diagnose me, and prescribe me actions to take and books to read (just as a medical doctor would prescribe medication and exercise to a person with heart disease.)

Identify the potential problem (or completely manifested problem in my case).

Take action to treat the problem.

Although I still have a long way to go, I have started to do some of the things on my to-do list from the psych assessment:

I am reading three books about resting, taking time for yourself, and self-care in pastoral vocations.
I have started observing a sabbath every week. (This is so hard!)
I am trying to take time out of every day to relax and sit down.
I am praying every night with my (very) patient boyfriend.
I reevaluated my priorities and uncommitted from some things at church and work.
I am continuing Bible study of the Old Testament.
I am talking with people, pastors, parents, friends about what it means to care for yourself and take time for yourself in a society that is so concerned about doing the next big thing and always being on the move.

I'm convinced that if I hadn't identified my vulnerability it would have killed me. Maybe not tomorrow or next year, but eventually I would have died of exhaustion.

My plea to you is to identify your vulnerability.  Grasp it. Caress it. Love it. Then work on it and treat it like a disease that is bound to kill you.

worth it

"Mountain" I climbed

One of the most amazing experiences of my life was traveling to Hawaii by myself last December.

I claimed that it was a reward to myself for graduating college early, but in reality it was so much more than that.

At that point in my life, it was an escape. An escape from hurt and rush and my parents.  It was an escape from the things that scared the crap out of me in the future. It was an escape from the fact that I might never be the person I always wanted to be. And an escape from the expectations of others.

It was also a test. I wanted to know that I could function on my own. I needed to know that I could be by myself and be okay.

During those ten days on Oahu, I was able to do some amazing things. Some of my favorites included watching surf competitions, eating local food, and sunning myself every single day.

My favorite thing, though, was an accomplishment I can't get out of my mind this week.

I climbed a mountain.

Okay, so maybe no exactly a mountain... but for me, it felt like a physical, emotional, and spiritual mountain.

We got up before the sun rose on the Sunday morning before I left to fly back home and drove to my mountain. The minute we got halfway to the base of the trek, I was done.

I'm not a physical type of girl. I don't work out. I don't particularly care to prove my physicality by doing physical things. I'm more of a thinker. I'm more of a writer. Not a hiker. Or a railroad tie hurdler.

 

But we climbed up the mountain on railroad ties.  I wanted to die halfway up (or a quarter of the way up) and I was definitely winded by the time we reached the top (after multiple stops to rest). There was a bridge we had to cross that was just made out of railroad ties. You could fall right through it into the rocks. I was terrified and exhausted the entire way up.  But it was the most rewarding thing I have ever done in my life.


Let me repeat that: It was the most rewarding thing I have ever done in my life.

It wasn't just the view. The view was amazing. It was the fact that over and over again I told my hiking partner that I didn't want to keep going. I said, "I'm too tired" and "I can't do it" and "this was a terrible idea."  But despite my mind and my body telling me to stop and turn back. Despite my legs saying, "it's not worth it," my heart just wouldn't let me stop.

It is the first time my heart convinced me to do something that the rest of my body didn't want to do and didn't think it could do.

Now that I know it's possible, I feel like I can do anything.

God gave me the strength (because honestly, it had to have been divine intervention) to start climbing my spiritual mountain a few months prior to this physical mountain climbing.  I'm nowhere near the peak of this mountain, I can't even see it. It's blurred in the morning fog. And it's a much larger mountain than I climbed on Oahu.  The obstacles are larger than railroad ties and bridges without floors. But I know that it is possible. I know that when my body and mind feel defeated and broken, my heart and my Lord will be there to keep me going.

Because it's worth it.  The view at the top will take my breath away and make all of it worth it.