A 2010 Moment
As I walked into Foundation Grounds coffee house in in Maplewood, MO, I would be lying if I said my heart was beating fast with nervous anticipation. I stood just inside the door, coming out of the cold February wind, and scanned to room for him.
My eyes settled on Christopher, whose head was buried in his Macbook. I braced myself, said a silent prayer, and sat down across from him. He looked up, smiled, shut his laptop screen and said “Thanks for coming.”
He got up to get me a cup of coffee and as he returned to his seat, I saw him sigh. It was a big sigh… and I knew some big stuff was coming.
Christopher and I met three months previous through some friends of mine from church. I went to his booth at the John Burroughs School Unique Boutique art show and was in awe of his textiles. His scarves were beautiful and 100% green. I loved them and loved his philosophy of reusing things such as tires to make thread to weave stunning patterns. We talked about the Food Network and his husband of 12 years. We hit it off and my friends from church (little did I know) kind of had an ulterior motive in introducing us.
Bill and Julie loved Christopher and knew he was a searcher. They also knew he was a bit sour on Christianity. For some reason, they thought if he met me I would be a person able to answer Christopher’s questions. Fast forward three months, where I found myself in a coffee house answering said questions.
When he and I first planned the time to meet for coffee that afternoon, I told a few close friends that I needed to be bathed in prayer. Christopher has a genius IQ and got his master’s degree as a teenager. (He had a doctorate, too. In Math or something far beyond me…) Who was I to respond to what I knew would be great and really tough questions? So people prayed. Thank goodness.
For the next three and half hours, I listened to his story of why he hated Christians and why, after getting to know Bill, Julie and me he no longer did. He asked question after question… and all the right ones. He said stuff that gave me goose bumps. “I’ve read every word Jesus said over and over. I can’t find a contradiction. He was so kind and loving. That’s a dude I aspire to be.” And then the heart stopper: “When I realized I wasn’t bitter when Julie used the word “church” around me… and when I found out you were a seminary student and I liked you, I knew something was up. The bitterness that used to hit me whenever Christianity was mentioned didn’t hit me anymore. I didn’t actively pursue that healing. I knew it was outside myself and I knew I couldn’t ignore it.” Seriously…. goosebumps.
That afternoon at that coffee shop was beautiful and surreal. I was honest. I helped him understand a lot of misconceptions he had about what Christians believe. I have very little memory of the specifics of what I said, because it was very clear that it wasn’t me saying it. I just remembering feeling guided and protected… and that God was pursuing Christopher. All I needed to do was get out of the way and try not to mess up God’s plans. I still tear up when I remember that afternoon. I will never forget it.
The Meaning of Emptiness
For as the rain and the snow come down from heaven
and do not return there but water the earth,
making it bring forth and sprout,
giving seed to the sower and bread to the eater,
so shall my word be that goes out from my mouth;
it shall not return to me empty,
but it shall accomplish that which I purpose,
and shall succeed in the thing for which I sent it.
For you shall go out in joy
and be led forth in peace;
the mountains and the hills before you
shall break forth into singing,
and all the trees of the field shall clap their hands.
-Isaiah 55: 10-12 (ESV)
Emptiness takes on many forms for me. I remember being asked by the search committee that called me to Arizona “How do you think you will handle moving to a place where you don’t know anyone and leave many family and friends behind?” I also remember thinking “They have no idea how much of an introvert I really am.”
Being alone is not much of a problem for me. I’ve often wondered if there was something wrong with me because of this. But much of my strength comes from knowing that no matter where I am in life (with or without the intimacy of family and friends geographically nearby) that if I’m in the center of God’s will, he will sustain me. I know this because I’ve lived it.
But I also think emptiness can take the form of dashed expectations, or a time of spiritual dryness, or even a hardened heart. There certainly can be an overlap with these things and people, but I’ve also found myself empty of joy. Empty of compassion. Even empty of devotion to something I once found myself completely devoted.
I learned these times are not to be ignored. Sometimes it takes a while for me to even realize I’m in the emptiness, but once I do, if I don’t ask myself why and delve deep with my heart and mind to find out why I’m there I run the risk of a significant, prolonged drought. And I what I often find so fascinating about the way I function in these times of emptiness is how it almost always takes a person to show me my emptiness.
There isn’t much rain here in the desert. And I only experienced a tiny bit of snow when I was back in Nebraska for the holidays. It even rained in Phoenix that night my flight left. Just as Isaiah says – the snow and rain cause something to happen. (We just don’t always get to see it or may see the results months later, in the Spring.) It brings fourth and makes the earth sprout. Can I learn to trust that God does the same to me? That the times of dreary rain and cold snow actually mean something… and have a purpose?
“For thus says the Lord: When seventy years are completed for Babylon, I will visit you, and I will fulfill to you my promise and bring you back to this place. For I know the plans I have for you, declares the Lord, plans for welfare and not for evil, o give you a future and a hope. Then you will call upon me and come and pray to me, and I will hear you. You will seek me and find me, when you seek me with all your heart. I will be found by you, declares the Lord, and I will restore your fortunes and gather you from all the nations and all the places where I have driven you, declares the Lord, and I will bring you back to the place from which I sent you into exile.” -Jeremiah 29:10-14
What I adore about this oft-used passage is the context. God promised prosperity for his people… but after 70 years in exile. We often use this passage to sooth someone’s pain or to inspire then to move forward… but God didn’t actually restore their fortunes until many, many years after (so many that the generations that heard the prophecy from Jeremiah wouldn’t live to see it come true.) So it probably seems weird that I love the hard part, but I do because I’ve been there. I’ve been in the hard places. I am there now. And understanding that God’s promises to his people may not come true in my lifetime is not fun for me to hear. But it does help me grow into a deeper trust with him. There are peaks and valleys when you are a child of God. I prefer the peaks, yes. But the valleys show me deep and wonderful and mysterious things. They show me God’s providence and love for his people. They show me the effects of the Fall, which in order to fully understand God’s grace we must be aware of such sin and brokenness. This is part of my emptiness. This is part of the world’s emptiness.
But his promises are never empty. I don’t always understand why he chooses to fulfill the the way he does sometimes. But they are never void, because he is never void.
That’s something to rejoice about.
… in fact, that’s something to clap your hands and break forth into singing about. I think I’ll go join the trees. 🙂
Grace and Love (and some other stuff)
I have to love others who have a history of not loving me.
I have to love others who’ve rejected me.
One of the first things a professor said to me that hit me really, really hard was this: “You can’t be in ministry unless you love people.” and then one step further… “If you don’t think people can change, just leave right now”.
This seems like it should’ve been a “duh” kind of thing, but for me, it wasn’t. When I first felt God calling me to the kind of ministry I am training and studying to be, I just didn’t know about the “hugeness” of it all. I honestly hadn’t processed everything that ministry meant. I had (to an extent) – in fact, read this post to see what I mean by that.
God made some big changes in my during 2010. A lot of it was through this. Best. Study. Ever. A lot of it was simply the transition time of my life; after several years in one town moving out of state and attending seminary. God did all this work in me to help prepare me for the ministry to which I am called right now.
I have learned….
1. Coercive power won’t lead to change. You can’t force others to do what you want them to do. You can offer wisdom and perspective, but manipulation will do nothing but tear down and rip apart the relationship.
2. Though we can’t deserve or earn grace, it’s imperative you give it to people anyway. A fellow student at seminary asked in class “But what about the person who continually fails and takes advantage of you? When do you stop offering them grace?” The professors responded with “You take advantage of God every single day.” I do worry about lines being crossed and about the importance of boundaries in relationships… of course I worry about those things. But there comes a point when you either decide that’s it’s more important to be right or more important to have the person who needs the grace in your life. Every day we make choices like this. It’s hard to think about getting beaten up all the time. But I think it can be equally hard to not forgive. For in that unforgiveness comes a heart laden with burdens we are not meant to bear. I have had that burdened heart. There isn’t much worse I’ve experienced.
3. This pattern of the rejection I’ve faced from others in the past has significantly influenced how I treat others today. I assume that people who want to know me only do so because they need something from me. I assume an agenda on their part, rather than trust and simply think they just want to be in a relationship with me. There was quite a bit of trauma from my childhood that caused this in me today. But I’ve also learned that’s why I’m comfortable being a leader, because it allows me a certain amount of emotional distance. Whether or not I’ve hit a healthy level of this is something I’m still unsure of.
4. I’ve learned to be better at rolling with the punches, especially to more I work with people who can’t. I find myself frusted with these, but knowing full well I can be that way too. I’m working on that.
5. I’ve learned the process of being called is a holy one. It’s scary and frustrating and knee-shaking kind of painful. But it’s holy and made me full of awe at God’s providence and will at the same time.
6. I‘ve learned that even after you’re called, the process of being in ministry is also holy. I’ve had the privilege of sitting in my office and crying with people who are wounded. I’ve had the joy of praying with and for an elder starting a new business. I’ve had the pain of hearing a friend cry on the phone because her daughter needs surgery. I’ve had the ache for my seminary friends as we’ve lamented and worked the process of ministering to others on opposite sides of the nation. It’s all hard and it’s all holy.
7. I’ve learned that I am blessed beyond all measure and wish I realized that every second of every day.
Happy New Year, everyone. Blessings to you all in 2011.
I have to love others who’ve rejected me.
One of the first things a professor said to me that hit me really, really hard was this: “You can’t be in ministry unless you love people.” and then one step further… “If you don’t think people can change, just leave right now”.
This seems like it should’ve been a “duh” kind of thing, but for me, it wasn’t. When I first felt God calling me to the kind of ministry I am training and studying to be, I just didn’t know about the “hugeness” of it all. I honestly hadn’t processed everything that ministry meant. I had (to an extent) – in fact, read this post to see what I mean by that.
God made some big changes in my during 2010. A lot of it was through this. Best. Study. Ever. A lot of it was simply the transition time of my life; after several years in one town moving out of state and attending seminary. God did all this work in me to help prepare me for the ministry to which I am called right now.
I have learned….
1. Coercive power won’t lead to change. You can’t force others to do what you want them to do. You can offer wisdom and perspective, but manipulation will do nothing but tear down and rip apart the relationship.
2. Though we can’t deserve or earn grace, it’s imperative you give it to people anyway. A fellow student at seminary asked in class “But what about the person who continually fails and takes advantage of you? When do you stop offering them grace?” The professors responded with “You take advantage of God every single day.” I do worry about lines being crossed and about the importance of boundaries in relationships… of course I worry about those things. But there comes a point when you either decide that’s it’s more important to be right or more important to have the person who needs the grace in your life. Every day we make choices like this. It’s hard to think about getting beaten up all the time. But I think it can be equally hard to not forgive. For in that unforgiveness comes a heart laden with burdens we are not meant to bear. I have had that burdened heart. There isn’t much worse I’ve experienced.
3. This pattern of the rejection I’ve faced from others in the past has significantly influenced how I treat others today. I assume that people who want to know me only do so because they need something from me. I assume an agenda on their part, rather than trust and simply think they just want to be in a relationship with me. There was quite a bit of trauma from my childhood that caused this in me today. But I’ve also learned that’s why I’m comfortable being a leader, because it allows me a certain amount of emotional distance. Whether or not I’ve hit a healthy level of this is something I’m still unsure of.
4. I’ve learned to be better at rolling with the punches, especially to more I work with people who can’t. I find myself frusted with these, but knowing full well I can be that way too. I’m working on that.
5. I’ve learned the process of being called is a holy one. It’s scary and frustrating and knee-shaking kind of painful. But it’s holy and made me full of awe at God’s providence and will at the same time.
6. I‘ve learned that even after you’re called, the process of being in ministry is also holy. I’ve had the privilege of sitting in my office and crying with people who are wounded. I’ve had the joy of praying with and for an elder starting a new business. I’ve had the pain of hearing a friend cry on the phone because her daughter needs surgery. I’ve had the ache for my seminary friends as we’ve lamented and worked the process of ministering to others on opposite sides of the nation. It’s all hard and it’s all holy.
7. I’ve learned that I am blessed beyond all measure and wish I realized that every second of every day.
Happy New Year, everyone. Blessings to you all in 2011.
The Problem With Being an Adaptor
So last year I took this really long leadership test here: http://www.rightpath.com/ for my Leadership and Administration in the Church class. According to this company, there are 16 different types of leaders, and I (story of my life) am the rarest one: the Adaptor.
The Adaptor leader steps into a situation and adaptors to whatever is needed. If the church is failing at Communication, I’ll see it and try to fix it. If they need a better Children’s ministry program, I’ll build it up and get it going again. If I’m sitting in a meeting where everyone is talking, I’ll be quiet (even if I have something to say.) If we need a confrontational leader, I’ll be the one to do it.
Some of the other leadership types are: Director, Motivator. Stylish innovator, the Harmonizer… and many others.
When I first took the test, my professor told me he’d never met a true adaptor. There are two parts to the test and usually he could tell from the second part where someone who scored as an adaptor (in part one) actually fell based on the results of part two. But, of course, not me. In his 23 years of administrating the test, he’d never met an adaptor until me. So naturally, I was wondering if I really was one based on his comments. Now that I’m several months into a job where I’m basically the head honcho… I absolutely know it’s true.
And I hate it.
So far, a lot of the stuff needed at the church is stuff way outside my “sweet spot”. My sweet spot is also stuff that’s needed. Eventually. But right not there are more pressing needs I must attend to in order to make it through. But what this is doing to me is causing me to burn out faster than I should, because I am spending a lot more time out of my gifting than I am in my gifting. But I’m still good at the other stuff. So good people want me to keep doing it.
So right now I’m really struggling to figure out where God’s grace is in all of this. While I know there are many aspects of ministry I am not equipped to do, I know there are more I am not called to do. But when I find myself in a culture that lacks commitment and wants to paid staff person to do it, I search for ways to help them understand why I shouldn’t do it, and that’s not just why I don’t want to do it. I firmly believe God wants us to flourish in certain areas of ministry and not all areas. But I find myself pushing against a wall put there long ago by a church that doesn’t want to or think they should have to do it themselves.
Is this the death of the lay leader? Sometimes it feels like it is. I am pleading for God’s gracious hand to figure out some ways for me to find time, in the midst of simply keeping parts of the ministry surviving in this church, to equip and empower others to do it instead.
God, I pray for a transformation of my heart and theirs. PLease give them the passion to commit. Please give me the spine to say no. Please offer wisdom for me to make this work.
Acceptance
So, I’m about 5 months into my new job. And Wednesday night I was overwhelmed by it. Not so much in the details of the job – i.e., the stuff that needs to get done to make a ministry even happen. I’ve pretty much got that down now. But I was overwhelmed in the “people side” of all.
I had a lot thrown at me last night from different people and I realized something that’s been happened to me since I got here – but it was happening in pieces and I didn’t put them all together until this morning, as I was talking with the senior pastor. What’s happening… is that everyone is trying to get me on “their” side.
Doesn’t seem like such a bad thing. But over and over again as people come to me with ideas and stories and thoughts and feelings, I’ve realized a couple of very important things: the person who did this job before me made a lot of enemies. And that’s not me; it’s just not in my nature. So it’s almost as if they are reacting to her leadership – they are used to her polarizing issues. I think they are saying to themselves, “I want to get her on my side.” The senior pastor experienced a lot of that when he first got here a couple of years ago. He said a lot of people made appointments with him simply to tell him “who to watch out for” So, this is where the ugly side of ministry makes me want to quit. But instead I should be angry with at Satan for urging us keep on indulging in the brokenness and sin in the world.
That said, while there have been many moments of “I soooo don’t know what to do in this situation and I feel completely unqualified to deal with this,” I also get a lot of affirmation and acceptance from the volunteers I work with (and the senior pastor, who affectionally told me today I was “kicking ass”). I realize a lot of this affirmation is because of the broken relationships the previous person created and it’s happened because I’m doing my darndest to repair what was broken.
Last night I was facilitating a bible study where one of the women (not from our church) said, “My husband is supposed to be the one with the last word, not me.” (In context, she was telling us about her “role” in the marriage.) She’s baptist. And my heart hurt for her that she is being taught that. She isn’t being affirmed in who she is and that makes me sick to my stomach. I am so blessed to have a boss/pastor who tells me that I am kicking ass. Who can tell when I’m having a rough time, who seeks out my insight on issues. It is in this place where I am accepted, which I’m pretty sure is what God wants for us all.
Stephanie Nelson 