Leftover Love

I've been coming to terms, more and more lately, with the idea of how much things change and relationships shift and one day you realize that your world is permanently different than it used to be 5 or 10 years ago, and perhaps different than you ever dreamed it would be. 

At least, it is for me. 

There's not even necessarily a good or bad judgment to this fact, simply an acknowledgement of what is.  There are things that I will never again see, places I will never again go, and friends that I will never again see.  And I've been wondering, and struggling, with how to accept that and let go of it, to love and honor the past as blessings from God in that time and place, and not wallow in the sadness of "change". 

The hardest part, of course, is the relationships.  As my move away from Iowa and my home congregation becomes permanent, how do I let the people go...how do I process the fact that individuals who were so important to me, are people that I will never share a cup of coffee with again?  As I leave seminary, how do I deal with the fact that people who have "made my day", every day, aren't next to me to count powerpoint slides in class or say something incredibly profound or smile at me from across the room?  As I become absorbed in a career, and more and more demands are placed on my time, how do I deal with losing those who re-energized me? 

I stumbled across this poem written by Hrabanus Maurus that has helped.  It has given me words to entrust all the people I love to Christ, to honor them as gifts, and to await the day when I will see them again.  I just love this:

Then live, my strength, anchor of weary ships,
Safe shore and land at last, thou, for my wreck,
My honour, thou, and my abiding rest,
My city safe for a bewildered heart.
That though the plains and mountains and the sea
Between us are, that which no earth can hold
Still follows thee, and love’s own singing follows,
Longing that all things may be well with thee.
Christ who first gave thee for a friend to me,
Christ keep thee well, where’er thou art, for me.
Earth’s self shall go and the swift wheel of heaven
Perish and pass, before our love shall cease.
Do but remember me, as I do thee,
And God, who brought us on this earth together,
Bring us together to his house of heaven.
~ Hrabanus Maurus

I also think part of the struggle for me is that I have no one and nothing to replace the people that I love, who have been part of my daily life.  Wesley Hill, writing for First Things, explores "Celibacy and Friendship 'After 30'", by discussing a New York Times article that explains how difficult it is to find meaningful relationships as a single adult.  He raises a lot of issues (and in the end, admits that he doesn't have it all figured out), but one thing that really struck me was the idea that, "a big part of what we celibate people are seeking isn’t just to be the recipients of sacrificial love but to be able to give it—we want to be able to make soup for someone who’s sick, not just have someone who will make soup for us when we’re sick." 

Yes, yes, yes, a thousand times yes.  Facebook is great, usually, and my phone works, as well as my writing hand.  And so I keep in touch (mostly) with the people I care so deeply about.  But they are now "phone friends", the kind that you want to spend three hours talking to, and so you put them on your to-do list until you can find three hours, and somehow, you never do.  They are no longer the friends that you call and say, "I'm headed your way, do you want meet me in an hour?" or "I'm bored, want to go see a movie?" or even "I haven't seen you in a while - let's do lunch on Tuesday."  And that happens.  But while the people I care so deeply about have been relegated to "long-distance friends", the space in my life has not been filled.  "Giving love" to those whom I care about, long-distance, is so hard, and I have no real recipients - or at least, that's how I feel.  The ones I love have not been replaced, they are simply missed. 

Yes, Christ calls us to leave home and family, and not put our hand back to the plow.  But it is also not good that we be alone.  And I just don't know how to balance those two right now.  Someone once said that "grief is just leftover love", which I think is a beautiful way of looking at it.  As I by necessity become more separated from so much that I used to know, I realize that I've got a lot of leftover love to go around...

Life Update

It's 9:00 on December 23rd, and I'm bored, so I thought I'd update all 6 of you on life in South Dakota...

Running: Going awesome.  Just finished Week 2 in Couch-to-5K.  I decided to do two of each weekly plan, rather than pushing it super hard.  I'm getting a lot of flak from the Couch-to-5K Facebook page, who are basically all telling just to keep moving, but a) I'm a serious couch potato, and b) running with a prosthesis means that I'm already expending 2x the energy of the "normal" runner...also, since I don't have a "running" leg (the carbon fiber blades you see Oscar Pistorius and his gang run with), that doesn't help the situation at all.  So I'm taking it a little slow, but it's winter in SD, and 18 weeks instead of 9 still barely gets me to the 5K season up here...  Anyways, it feels great.  I've had to hit the treadmill the last couple weeks, since it's been solid ice on the sidewalks around town.  I can figure out how to handle the cold, but I'm not too keen on the prospect of falling flat on my face...  For some reason my shin splints and general knee pain are worse on the treadmill (???) than on the concrete...who's ready for the ice to melt?  Also, this week was Day 1 of TOM, and holy cow did I get nailed...Tuesday was my first day of Week 2 - it was tough, but I made it through. Thursday was my 2nd day of Week 2, and Day 1 of AF, and criminy I thought I was going to die.  I seriously only made it about 75% through the workout - I just had no energy.  Which was strange because was one of those months where I actually felt reasonably decent, as opposed to some months where it's 4:00 pm before I can even think about getting up off the couch...  So, TMI for all y'all, but then I ran again this afternoon after church (had Anytime Fitness all to myself  = awesome), made it through and it felt great.  Again, a tough workout, but a good one.  Yay!

Church: Pretty good, all things considered. We have lots of work too, mainly involving a shift in focus from survival/maintenance mode to growth/outreach mode.  The real issue, I think, is that there's a belief (or a want-to-believe) that this is basically the 1940s, everybody pretty much goes to church, and the way to grow the church is to have a pastor that makes people want to come to this church instead of the church down the street.  Don't get me wrong - I think this is probably the situation that a lot of churches are finding themselves in, and so we're not alone.  But I'm excited about the task ahead, which is preaching the idea that we're not in a Christian, or even a post-Christian era.  I'm starting to think that we're really in a pre-Christian era - people haven't heard the story and rejected it, they've never heard it in the first place.  The way to grow the church is not "be the coolest church around", but preach God's love and mercy and salvation, and have members that are on fire and ready to tell the good news - not that their church is cool, but that Jesus is infinitely amazing and is the only thing that has the power to resurrect the dead - whatever "dead" looks like in your life.  It's a huge mental shift for people who aren't used to thinking along those lines, and it'll come with time, I believe, so I'm not particularly frustrated or concerned - it was a huge mental shift for me the first time I encountered this approach to ministry.  The good news, though, is that the people are awesome.  It's just a really great congregation, that loves, and that has so many gifts, and is just waiting to burst forth, so let's go.

Confirmation: I just love teaching confirmation.  It was my favorite part of internship, it's my favorite part of ordained ministry.  These kids are just fantastic - I love giving them freedom to ask lots of questions.  Sometimes they're on topic, and sometimes not-so-much, but they get me and I get them.  We're having fun, and they seem to be learning.  What I want them to get out of confirmation is not to be perfect-little-Lutherans, but faithful, growing Christians who get it.  We're tossing out the memorize-every-word-of-the-Small-Catechism in favor of memorizing the Creed, the Lord's Prayer, and the Ten Commandments + 3 Bible verses that they choose.  I want them to have a faith that is meaningful to them.  So this year we're doing a little freelance-ish Youth Alpha and the Small Catechism (the whole thing, not just what I'm making them memorize).  This summer at camp, we'll do worship (why do we structure worship the way we do?), and next year they'll do a Bible overview - The Story, maybe, or something similar.   They're just really fantastic kids who are trying to get it, and learning how to think about and talk about God, and it's so much fun to watch!

Life in a Small Town: It's alright.  I like my town - it's actually a really good size - small enough to feel cozy, but big enough to have a grocery store and gym and Wal-Mart and furniture store and several churches and some fast food...The congregation has been pretty welcoming - I went to my grandparents' for Thanksgiving, but I'm having Christmas Eve dinner with a couple from the call committee.  The ladies made me a quilt for my installation today, which is absolutely gorgeous, and I just love to pieces.  But I'd also be lying if I said that I'm not lonely.  There really aren't many people here who are my age, and the ones who are, are all married-with-kids.  Most nights I come home and chill in front of the TV or Netflix.  I just don't have much in the way of friends, which is why I drive to Sioux Falls on a fairly regular basis to see friends from school, or just find random things to do - like Christmas at the Capitol.  Honestly, it's really hard to be single.  I can "offer it up" all I want, or try to see it as part of "suffering for the Kingdom" or whatever, but it still just really stings doing Christmas completely alone.  And it's harder having all my married friends say, "Of course it's sad that you can't see your parents, but you just start your own traditions!"  Well...that's easy to say if you come home from Christmas Eve worship and your wife and kids are there.  Or if the "new tradition" is that you put off opening presents until after Christmas Day worship that Mommy has to preach at.  When your holidays are you, and only you, it's just really, really hard, and I know hardly anyone who understands that.  My "new tradition" is Netflix, Campbell's Chunky Soup, and leftover Christmas cookies - or whatever.  I know a lot of people have it a lot harder than I do - relatives who have died or who live so far away as to be un-travelable-to or such broken relationships that they don't even really want to go home.  And it's true, I'm much better off than that...  But honestly, I'd rather argue about whose family we're going to see for Christmas this year, than be totally alone.  I'm also really struggling with being the pastor and the pastor's wife, but that's for another post...  Pray for me, please, if you're so inclined...

Going to Church: For everyone who has an excuse about why they can't come to church that really boils down to "I just didn't want to put in the effort to get there because it's not that important to me" - one of the ladies in the nursing home here just weaned herself off oxygen so that she could take the senior transit bus to church on Sundays.  I ♥ this. 

On the Other Hand: I'm working on some awesome Christmas cooking/baking projects this year, which I will definitely post pics of when I am done...

Merry Christmas, everyone - remember that the light shines in the darkness, and the darkness did not, can not, will not overcome it!

On Boys and Men

Which, apparently I'm obsessed with, since I seem to blog about them so much...

Anywho, along with this shiny new vocation I've got (or so it seems), I've also got some new thoughts on the single life and the men that are (clearly not) in my life. 

I think what women want in a man changes over the course of their lives (one would hope, really, that "captain of the football team" is not the number one priority for a 30-year-old woman).  At least, I've noticed this in myself, and I'm pretty sure others have as well.  What I wanted when I was 15 or 20 or 25 and even 29 isn't, at least necessarily, what I want - and need - now.  And that means changes in the individuals I know that I'm attracted to.  Which is interesting to watch take place, as well. 

I realized all of this just a couple months ago, when a man I know started bragging on his pastor-wife.  Now, I've known plenty of women pastors in my day, a number of whom are married.  And I know some of the husbands.  But I have never heard anyone talk about his pastor-wife in this way.  "She is SO good at what she does.  She's a great preacher.  And an amazing writer.  The congregation is so blessed to have her." And on and on and on.  It didn't really hit me at the moment, but it's sort of come to me slowly - for all the talk of "women pastors scare men away", it seems like there's maybe a few out there who aren't afraid. 

And I want someone who, when I preach a rockstar sermon, or do something really cool at VBS, or lead some administrative awesomeness, will say, "Yeah, that's my wife."  And I want someone who, when I majorly screw something up, will say, "Yep.  So, how are you going to fix it?  And remember that grace is bigger than everything."  Yes, I want someone who will make me laugh, and force my introverted self to get out of the house and go be social, and is a good cuddler, and knows how to make coffee, and is just nerdy enough to "get" me, but not so nerdy that he can't tell me to stop using sermons as a tool for teaching Hebrew/Greek/Latin.  I want someone who will send me text messages just to tell me he's thinking about me, and someone who wants to spend time with me - even if it's just sitting on the couch together reading books.  But mostly I want someone who wants me to be and do what God wants me to be and do.  That's what I want.

And I don't have that person right now.  And that's okay.  Perhaps not permanently okay, but it's okay at this moment.  Because I have some newfound clarity on who I am, and what I'm looking for, and realizing that so much of my "list" from the past no longer applies. 

When I was home for my sister's wedding, she and my mom and I were all discussing...something.  I forget what, now.  Maybe something to do with the centerpieces at the reception?  Anyway, in the course of the conversation, I said something akin to, "Well, at my wedding, blah blah blah..."  To which my mom replied, "Yeah, so, hurry up and find someone so we can do all this for you."  I couldn't answer at the time - I think it would have hurt too much - but what I really wanted to say was, "No.  No.  I'm tired of trying to 'find someone.'  It's about damn time somebody tried to find me." 

And so that's where I'll leave it for now.  I know who I am, and what God has created me to be and do, at least in this moment, and I know what I'm looking for.  I'm looking for someone who's looking for me.

Book Review: I Am One

I Am One: Prayers for Singles, by Carol Greene.

I loved this book.  I loved every page of it.  I wept through half its pages.  If you are single and feeling anything other than 100% content about that, if you're wondering when God is going to step up acknowledge your loneliness, if you don't know how to pray about this part of your life, this book is for you.  There are prayers for all sorts of different situations and feelings, and each is linked to a Bible verse that matches up with the prayer - sometimes in less-than-obvious way, but maybe that's part of the fun of it.  Here are three that I particularly enjoyed:


A Matter of Counting

I AM single, Lord.
I am one in a society
that counts by twos.
To some that makes me afflicted,
a person to be pitied.
To some it makes me sinful,
a person to be distrusted.
To many it makes me awkward,
an uneven number that upsets the balance.

You know the truth, Lord.
You know that I am
afflicted, sinful, awkward,
but no more and no less so
than your other children,
and you hold out to me
the same grace, forgiveness, and love.

O Lord, I praise you,
because you count by ones,
because you count each one equally precious,
each one utterly yours.

See Romans 3:21-26.

 
Barriers

LORD, WHO am I?
I never used to think of myself
as anyone but myself,
me during childhood, adolescence, young adulthood,
me doing what everyone else did.

Now I am a "single", or an "un-married."
I am unwelcome at parties of former friends,
on vacations with "price based on double occupancy,"
and at my church's couples' club.
Instead I am encouraged to visit singles' bars,
take singles' cruises, and
join a singles' support group.

They seem so alien, Lord,
these new barriers,
because I am still me.
I still care what happens to my former friends.
I want to vacation with all kinds of people.
I want to be in fellowship with couples too.
But what is worst, Lord,
is what the barriers do to me - inside. 
They make me too cautious, too ready to retreat,
too quick to defend myself,
too eager to insist, "I am as good as anyone."
They alienate me from myself, Lord,
these alien barriers.

Smash them, Lord,
or, if that is not your will,
then make me wise as the serpent
to creep around them,
gentle as the dove to fly above them.

See Matthew 10:16


Love Nobody Wants

IT SOMETIMES seems, my God,
as if I am filled with love
that nobody wants,
as if I am a tree
abloom with flowers and fruit
that will never gladden or nourish anyone.
Do you know how that feels, my God?

O my God, you do!
In the garden at the beginning of time,
in the wilderness of Moses,
at the cross and forever after,
you have reached out to us with love
and we have turned away from you.

And yet you do not give up.
With divine stubbornness,
with boundless generosity,
in eternal hope,
you reach out again and again.

O God who loves,
O God who is love,
train me in love like yours.

See Romans 5:6-11. 

Relationship-ness

I am tired.  I am really, really tired. 

Part of what's going on, I suppose, is just the general "being a senior" thing.  Every time I've "been a senior" (high school and college), I've clung like crazy to everything and everybody - all the lasts, and the never agains.  All the perfect memories and ridiculous drama.  All the best friends and favorite teachers.  What can I say?  I'm an emotional sucker. 

And I'm there again now.  It's making me crabby - I want to spend every free moment with my friends, experiencing our life together, and alternately, I want to not see them at all, thinking, I think, that I can protect myself from hurting by guarding my heart and my life.

So I think some of my "tiredness" is really my own typical senioritis.  Part of it, also, is not knowing what's next for me.  I don't know if I got into any grad schools.  I have to wait until April to try to get approved, and if that works, then I'll do assignment in the fall.  So there's the knowledge that all of this is ending, but that there's no new beginning to look forward to.  Who knows what will happen?  It could all come together, or I could fall flat on my face. 

Some of it is the spinster factor.  I thought by now I would have my life together - career, husband, kids.  I have none of that.  None.  I hate it, it's scary, it's depressing, and it's embarrassing.  What is wrong with me?  Why can everyone else get it together, except for me?  Why can every other girl find a boy who loves her, except for me?  Why can everyone else be normal, except for me?  

So there's that.  And tied in with that, I think, and a big, big part of it is just being tired of saying goodbye.  I have never lived more than three years in one location.  I have always said that I loved growing up in the Army, and the opportunities it afforded me to see the world, to learn and grow in ways that so many others didn't, to be open to new things and new people, and so on.  But I'm in a place right now where I don't like it.  Where I realize that for the last thirty years, all I've done is say goodbye.  Over, and over, and over again.  I'm tired of the fact that I have no home, that going to my parents' house is like going to a hotel, that I have no childhood friends, that I have no roots. 

I am tired of making friends only to see them (or me) leave.  I'm tired of everyone I love eventually not being around anymore.  I'm tired of having to work so hard to maintain the relationships I care about.  I'm tired of being at least a four-hour drive away from anybody I've known more than four years.  I'm tired of knowing that in 80...79...78...days I'm going to graduate and the same thing will happen that's been happening all my life: all of the people I love and care about will be gone. 

And I hate this because it's keeping me from enjoying the things that are good - the time I do have with everyone.  Because every time I laugh, I think to myself, "I'm never going to get to do this with this person again".  I'm tired of being afraid to be anywhere in public for fear that anything - everything - God only knows what - might cause me to start crying. 

And I'm tired of it not being okay to feel these things.  I'm tired of the voice inside my head that keeps saying, "Come on now, get it together."  I'm tired of feeling so pathetic every time I go through this stuff in my head, and I'm tired of feeling like the only acceptable answer to the question, "How are you?" is "Fine", even though I'm clearly anything but. 

Ugh.  I'm sorry for letting all the not-fine-ness and depression leak out all over the interwebs.  Ah well, it's my blog.  Don't like it?  Don't read it. 

Advantage: Singles

I'm pretty sure if I was married, I wouldn't be allowed to eat Taco Bell cinnamon crunchies in bed at midnight.