Spring Semester Review

Last week I turned in my final for Church History II: Reformation to Modernity. If you have insomnia or are a nerd and enjoy these things, you are welcome to read my final paper. Click the link here to go to it.

My return to school as a student again was quite an adjustment for everyone in my family. Claire didn't particularly like me leaving and developed some separation anxiety. Paul got sick of eating pizza every Thursday night and has declared he doesn't like it at all. Adam had to arrange his work schedule to be home at 6:00 p.m. every Thursday so I could make it to class on time.

Most days when I was at Brite Divinity School in my class, I felt like I was at the precipice of an entirely new world. Being around people that know words I've never heard and can write about concepts I've never even thought is invigorating to my spirit. It also makes the learning curve steep for me.

I've always enjoyed learning history, but I was fascinated with incorporating theology and learning the processes and events that brought the church where it is today. The inflence of secular history on church history and vice versa was a world unexplored. I learned about Martin Luther and how some of his thoughts became part of German culture and hundreds of years later even influenced Hitler and the common person's response to him.

I learned about the abolitionist movement and how it was linked to women's suffrage and even later, women's ordination in the church. This was a big eye-opener to me because learning about the 1800s and women's prescribed "role in society" made me question and ponder my own prescribed role. What parts of my life did I chose? What parts did society chose for me? This added relevance to the issues of women's rights. The struggles of the past became real in the present.

I learned my limits and how to ask for help. I'm still not a master at this, but I am definitely more self-aware and am become more proactive about asking for help when needed. On the week of my mid-term I had job interviews, my mid-term, a full work week and a husband who was stuck at work for about 60 hours. It was difficult but when I asked for help, I immediately received it.

I learned how important Google is to a student and how many thousands of books are available online. If you're writing a paper at 4:30 a.m., the libraries are closed, but you can do a Google books search and usually find what you're looking for. Instead of the index, online books provide a keyword search feature which saved me time. I was able to access any source I desired at any time I desired, for no cost.

As part of my school, I filled out a field education form for kicks, actually listing what I want to do for a living when I'm out of seminary. I wrote "I want to be a Bible study curriculum writer." Five months later I have completed my first course toward my Master of Divinity degree and I have a new job!

I'm so glad I took the plunge and stepped forth in faith to acheive some dreams. I can't wait to see where the next year takes me!

--In the fall I'll be taking Methodist Polity and Spiritual Life and Leadership. I'll be taking two courses, with two jobs, two kids, a husband, and two dogs. I can't wait to see what the world looks like in the midst of that. I know I'll be asking for help.

Gratitude and Raising the White Flag of Surrender

Want to know about the Protestant vs. Catholic Reformation in Europe? Not able to sleep? Haven't read the words "I would rather see a cow defecate" in a religious setting in a while?
I can fix all your problems with one swoop here!  Here's the link to my midterm, which includes a quote from a Protestant saying he would rather see a cow defecate than sit through another mass. I hoping to get at least a laugh for that inclusion.
I haven't been writing here because I've been attempting to tackle that beast.  Writing for seminary is different than other writing I've had to do, and I'm grateful for that. I'm always trying to improve my writing skills and so far, Brite Divinity School has asked me to stretch and stretch and I think I'm starting to grow.
I wanted to express my gratitude for everyone who helped me get through those crazy two weeks where I was reading and writing at every spare second I had. Adam has had an extremely tough work schedule for the last month so he's spent every spare second at the office. There were several days that I was trying to write my paper, work my two jobs, take care of my two kids, and I just wasn't doing anything very well.  I am humbled and thankful for everyone that helped me over the hump.  For those of you that sent me encouraging notes or hugged me and helped me regain my balance, I am so grateful. To my special friend that brought me dinner, thank you. To my friends who took the kids to the movies and dinner so I could write, thank you. To my kids who put up with a stretched-too-thin mother for two weeks, thanks for your patience. To my husband, thank you for understanding.
Besides all the new facts that are now crammed into my brain is a realization that I absolutely cannot pursue a Master of Divinity degree without support. When the time to write my final comes around, I will remember that and plan ahead.  I will recognize that trying to fit all that homework into the space between the time the children sleep and I am awake just isn't possible.  I will schedule uninterrupted work time by planning entertainment for the kids outside of the house with people that love them.  I will ask for help before I have to raise the white flag and admit defeat.
In some ways, I had an easier time writing this paper than the last one, so I am also hopeful that next semester I will be even more fluent in the ways to write for seminary.
Thank you to all my loved ones for your prayers and support.

Cracker Crumbs and God Images

When I was in fifth grade, my teacher, Mrs. Smith, thought we always needed something extra to help us focus on math.  Every day she would give each student one saltine cracker.  Depending on the day, I would either let each morsel melt in my mouth, or chew it up in a couple of bites.  Those were the most delicious crackers I had ever tasted and they seemed exotic because they were from the teacher.

Saltines come packaged in sleeves and when Mrs. Smith had emptied a sleeve, she would draw a name out of her coffee mug.  This lucky student won the crumbs at the bottom of the packaging.  The winner could lick her finger and gather all the salty goodness at once or hold the package aloft and shake the crumbs down into her mouth or eat each crumb one by one, savoring their deliciousness.

Every time we had crumbs available, I prayed hard to win them.  Sometimes I would just pray a repetitive prayer, "Dear God, please, please, please let me win the crumbs."  Sometimes I would pray a bargaining prayer, "Dear God, if you let me win, I'll be nice to my sister and never fight with her again."

I remember praying just as hard about Six Flags.  My family would go once a year and the week before the trip, my sister and I were so excited we couldn't control ourselves.  We were hyper and fighting and feeding off each other's excitement.  My parents, at a loss on how to control us in the midst of this, would threaten to call the trip off.  I sincerely believed they would do this.  Every year when I went to bed before the big day, I would stay up praying, "Dear God, please, please, please, please, please."

To me, God was some sort of a fairy godmother.  I would want something, pray for it, and either receive it or not.  Praying for Six Flags always resulted in a trip to Six Flags.

Along with being a fairy godmother, to me, God was also a policeman and a judge.  Like Santa Claus, he knew when I had been naughty or nice.  Naughty children were punished.  Bad things happened when you deserved for them to happen and good things happened to those who deserved good things.  To solve fights between my sister and I, my mother often said, "Jesus loves children who share."  My over-active imagination decided that also meant that Jesus doesn't love children who don't share.  As I recall, I was an excellent sharer.

As I grew up, I thought of God not so much as a judge, but a dealer in karma.  At church we were frequently asked how many people we had lead to Jesus and I always felt guilty because my number was always zero.  I would console myself with the parable of the sower and the seeds and hope that I had planted seeds along the way since I obviously hadn't harvested any for the kingdom.

In college, God was my rescuer.  Whether it was a test, a late-night drinking, or a moment of overwhelmed absent-mindedness and loss of car keys, I prayed often for delivery.

Nowadays, I think of God as a constant, loving companion.  I don't believe he judges me, but I do believe he is sometimes sad when I don't live up to my potential.  I don't believe he keeps score, but I do believe he rejoices in our successes and is alongside us through trouble as well.  God isn't a fairy godmother, but I do thank him for my blessings.

I believe that any time you feel love, you are experiencing the Holy.  Whether it's cracker crumbs or Six Flags, or just a day to count blessings, God listens to all my prayers and I am grateful.

All I can do is hug you

On Monday explosions devastated Boston.  Last night a fertilizer plant in West, Texas caught fire and exploded, injuring hundreds and evacuating a town.
News like that makes some want to crawl in a hole and hide from the world.  Not me.  I want to run outside right now at 5:24 a.m. in my nightgown to go wake my neighbors and tell them they're fantastic and can I hug you?  I want to drag my kids out of bed so I can hug and kiss every inch of their precious hands and feet and tell them  how much I love them and what I dream for their future.  I want to teleport myself to St. Louis to interrupt the Steel Conference to inform Adam Boyette that I love him.  (Flying or driving would take too long.  I would like to be there now and a phone call isn't the same as a hug.)
I want to get in the car and take a road trip to visit every single one of our friends to personally hug them and tell them I love them.  Even Wayne in Saudi Arabia, although there's not a direct road route there, so I'd settle for hugging his wife in California.
Unfortunately my schedule doesn't permit that, so what I will do today is radical hugging of the people I can see.
I can't stop bad things from happening and I can't even predict the future so I can warn people.  I can't even give blood to the blood bank today because I have a terrible cold and possibly will end up on antibiotics before the end of the day.  I can't give millions of dollars to non-profits.  I can't go rescue people myself; I know little about first aid anyway.
But what I can do is hug people.  I can tell you that I love you and that I believe love is the most powerful force in the world.  I believe God is love and when you feel love you are experiencing God.  I believe love is our soul and sole purpose in life and can I share with you that I love you?
So if you are in my path today, especially if you're not a hugger, be prepared.  You will get hugged.

God in the Gaps

This morning I got up at the ungodly hour of 5:30 a.m. I used that time to be godly.
I haven't been up that early in a while and didn't realize the moon shines so bright at that time of the morning. The sun was not even thinking about rising yet.
Our neighborhood features a street that runs parallel to Granbury Road but is also completely separate from it. You can walk down this street and feel like you are in the midst of traffic but stay perfectly safe and protected by curbs and medians on a deserted street.
Usually when I walk the traffic on Granbury is steady, but this morning it was sporadic. Several seconds of fast cars clumped together was followed by several seconds of silence. The silence was beautiful, calm, and peaceful, and immediately trampled by traffic.
I was thinking about Psalm 46:10, the verse that says "Be still and know that I am God." I have a hard time living out that verse, because as soon as I sit still to focus on God, my thoughts and lap are trampled by children. My life is like the traffic this morning on Granbury Road.
But having your peace trampled isn't always avoidable. In fact, it's usually not. However, that doesn't mean that the stillness that you experienced for those few seconds or minutes didn't exist. So today I am focusing on noticing God in the gaps of traffic. In between bombardment of requests and needs, I will be still and know. Then when I'm in the midst of the traffic, I can hold onto the calmness that once was.

Freaky Deaky

Two events happened this weekend that I can only refer to as freaky deaky or God. I prefer the latter.
I was driving home from the grocery store on Saturday and saw a man asking for money. He had an oxygen tank and a cane. I don't know if they were props or if he actually needed them, but I felt bad for the guy so I gave him $2. I also offered him a hot dog that Paul hadn't even touched, but he didn't want that. He said he couldn't eat hot dogs. That lead me to believe that maybe he was a faker, but oh well, I tried to share love with him anyway.
When I got home the mail was in the mailbox. When I opened it, I received $2 for a phone survey I recently completed. I was completely reimbursed from my investment with the possibly-faking-it bum.
Yesterday Claire and I went to early worship service at the church. Our late friend Susan loved going to early worship service. When we were singing the closing hymn, a memoriam paper from her funeral fell out in my hand. We don't usually sit where we sat yesterday; I always let Claire pick the pew. So of all the pews in the church and of all the hymnals in the pews and of all the pages in the hymnals, I chose the one with Susan's funeral program in it. I felt like she was there worshipping with us. I passed the paper on to a friend who dearly loved Susan but who couldn't go to her funeral.
So either these events were freaky-deaky coincidences or they were God. You decide.