Sunday, April 20, 2014

Moving Away From Home

When Adam and I were newlyweds, we moved to an apartment off of Hulen Street in Fort Worth. Both of us grew up in the mid-cities and went to college in Arlington, so Fort Worth was mostly unmapped territory.  We had to select what grocery store to patronize regularly. We had to find the post office.  We had to learn the routes to and from home. We also had to find a church home.
Adam grew up in the Church of Christ, I grew up Southern Baptist and neither one of us identified with those traditions any longer. So when Adam came home from work and said there was a pretty building on Camp Bowie that was a Methodist church, we were willing to give it a try.
The pretty building we've been at each Sunday since 2002.
It only took one Sunday at Arlington Heights United Methodist Church for us to feel at home. The people were kind and had an authenticity that was refreshing.  There wasn't a Sunday person/weekday person trade off. You could talk to a person on Friday night and the same person would be there on Sunday morning; you could even continue your conversation.
It was January of 2002.
Twelve years later, we're still there.  I've been on staff for four years working as the Communications Coordinator. I love my job for many reasons. I love serving others and I love utilizing both my journalism skills learned in college and my faith. 
In January I enrolled in seminary at Brite Divinity School.  I'm taking one class and I love it. Discovering the culture of the seminary and of faith learning has been another time of excitement and recognition of home and belonging.
I would love to write Bible studies one day and create small group discussion guides that cover scripture and great spiritual writing. I have thought and prayed about this over time and one day I believe I will do it.  I'm at the very beginning of my seminary career, though, and I assumed that day would be far in the future; probably after graduation when I was serving a Methodist church as a deacon on staff.
The view from my desk. I love my tiny art gallery!
This idea ended up being similar to my "I'll enroll in seminary when the kids are grown" idea. (Notice I'm in seminary now and the kids are still in elementary school.) As a routine, I submitted my resume to the field education office with notes on dreams and goals of mine.  Within a week two churches started looking at it.  Within a month I was going on interviews. I was found by a church who wants to create their own Bible study curriculum and eventually publish a book.  After many meetings and discussions with church leaders and in my home, I decided to take the job.
Beginning May 11 I will be on staff at Central Christian Church in Weatherford. I'm ecstatic about the new horizon, about taking my creativity and skills to the next level, about moving forward to achieve a dream.  Writing Bible studies won't be the only part of my job, but it's the part I didn't even know I could get so early in seminary.
I feel like a teenager moving away from home to go to college. Our church is part of the culture of our family. I can lead you to any part of the building with my eyes closed. Both of our children were baptized there.  Once a month Adam ushers in the early service. We both help teach children's Sunday school classes as substitutes.  I know nearly every single person in the congregation.  We all consider friends from church part of our family.  The kids are so at home they are unafraid to approach adults and begin conversations with them. We are going to miss it.
The good news is that like a college student, we'll get to come back home.  The entire family will return to AHUMC once a month. That will make our time even sweeter because we won't take it for granted.
We are bravely stepping forward in faith and I can't wait to see what's next on the horizon.

Saturday, April 5, 2014

Birthdays and Growing Up

Tomorrow is my birthday. Growing up, birthdays were always exciting. My mom would make me a yellow cake with rainbow chip frosting every year.  I haven't seen a can of rainbow chip frosting in years, but I can still remember the taste.  It was the taste of joy.
As I've gotten older, birthdays are just as big of a deal, but for different reasons.  When I was younger, the emphasis was the presents. Now the focus has shifted from presents, which are still exciting, to relationships and service. 
I have friends both near and far and my birthday is an excuse to connect with ones I don't get to keep up with often. Even something as simple as a Facebook greeting can be a conversation starter and a reminder to touch base with loved ones I don't see regularly.
I express my love for others through acts of service, and my birthday is a time when I stop and let others take care of me. I pause to remember that I am loved and that people are thankful for my service and presence in their lives.  It's also the time when I can get the kids motivated to help with chores all weekend long.  I have asked Paul to clean his bedroom as his gift to me.  Claire fed the dogs and everyone helped with laundry without complaint.
The past year has been one of great personal growth for me. At this time last year I had accepted that I would eventually enroll in seminary, but it was still far off in the distance and I wasn't brave enough to voice that dream to most people around me. Now I spend my free time studying and I am relishing every second in the classroom learning more about faith and church history. In the fall I'll stretch myself even more as I take two classes instead of just one.  I also know now what each class will require of me so I can prepare for the demands.
Today I am a better writer than I was last year. I know more about myself now than I did then. I've always been comfortable in my own skin, but self-discovery has led to even more self-acceptance.
My baby is in kindergarten, my daughter is blowing everyone away with her intelligence and perceptions, my husband has found he loves reading almost as much as me.
So while I'm not physically growing anymore, this past year has been one of great personal growth. I can't wait to see what my 36th year will hold.

Tuesday, April 1, 2014

NextDoor, Facebook, and Why I Will Never Delete You

I've made up my mind on my beliefs. I know what I believe about God, politics, violence, gay marriage and many other hot button issues.
That doesn't mean I've stopped listening, though.
In our part of Fort Worth, we have a social media website for neighbors called NextDoor. Ideally it's a place where you can share information that builds community. In the perfect situation, you would use the website to recommend a local plumber, to share information on a municipal concern, and to get to know your neighbors better.
In reality it's nothing like that.
There are a number of people who post about missing or found pets, and I always read their posts with care so I can watch out for the dog or cat. Others promote their garage sale, which is nice because they share pictures.
By far, the majority of the website, though, has been reduced to petty grumbling. Currently there's a 100+ comment stream about code compliance officers.  Basically the city is asking for volunteers to help alert them to code violations in our neighborhoods. This has opened the door to people throwing around words like "Nazi", "Big Brother," and "criminals." Irritated, others have commented that they will now cancel their account.
Not me. 
On Facebook I have a wide variety of "friends." Many share my outlook on life.  Many don't. I have a few friends that post opinions that consistently make me uncomfortable. Some use their Facebook page to spew hate, inciting others to delete their imaginary friendship.
Not me.
With the increasing personalization of society, it's easy to surround myself with people that only agree with me.  I can choose to read news that only enforces my views on the world. I can subscribe to blogs that share my opinion.  I can limit social media friendships to those who stand on the same soapboxes. I can schedule my social appearances, attend my church, and spend all my free time surrounding myself with sameness.
But sometimes I get sick of my own voice.
www.sxc.hu
Instead, I want to listen. I want to hear all sides of the story. I want to be exposed to opinions that make me uncomfortable. I want to read the comment stream that dissects petty complaints.
Listening to the other side reminds me of the size of my world. How small my world is when mine is the only voice heard and everyone agrees with me. When I hear you share an opinion I disagree with, I am reminded of the existence of other views and voices. I pay more attention to what I am passionate about when I hear others share their passions. 
I remind myself of the humanness of everyone. I am connected to real people and not just the imaginary "other side." I recognize how different our worlds are when you are passionate about the concrete on your pathway matching the concrete on your driveway. 
When I am exposed to the stories and concerns of others, I realize my concerns today won't be my concerns tomorrow. One day soon I won't be worried about homework or kissing injured knees.  My life with change.
I conciously listen to the other side of the story, but sometimes my ears get tired.
On the neighborhood website, I noticed a pattern with a particular user.  This gentleman was quick to grumble about any topic listed. It began to wear on even me, who was initially happy to read his views. I kept sharing with Adam how annoyed I was at this particular man's postings and complaints. I mulled over blocking his posts so I could avoid him altogether, but that didn't feel right.  Instead, I resorted to thanking him.  For every post, similar to Facebook's "like" button, there is a "thank" button. Every time that neighbor posts something, I go in and click "thank." At first he continued his three posts a day barrage of complaints, but I am happy to report that is no longer. Instead, his postings now are mostly positive and helpful.  I do realize this is a mixture of killing him with kindness and being a smart-aleck, but it made me feel better.

I truly do want to hear other sides to the story. I want to surround myself with different rather than same-same. I want to constantly expand my horizons and my world view. I want to put a face with that issue. I want to remember that the "other side" is real people and not just a "bunch of lunatics." However, my compassionate listening can only go so far when faced with constant complaining.  I might just have to thank you and move on to the next topic.  However, I won't ever delete you.