little eyes staring up
minds filled with wonder
their lips overflow with questions
their ears cannot hear “I don’t know”
mom has all the answers
until she doesn’t
the day comes when she knows nothing
the wonder of motherhood
one day you know it all
the next you know nothing
but isn’t that every day of motherhood?
The question we all get asked…
What do you do?
For some of us it’s super easy to answer.
For some of us we pause knowing the reaction to your job can go a few different ways.
Then there’s me, who’s still not sure how to answer. You could also call it disbelief.
Huh? I’m this thing that I thought I was never going to be. I’m this thing I tried to withdraw from the process of doing. I’m doing this job I’ve not (yet) been ordained to do.
I’m an associate pastor elect (the official term) for Christian Education and Discipleship. If all goes according to plan, I’ll be ordained one week into the new year. I am still in disbelief.
I’m the one who’s tried on many occasions to run from my calling. I’ve believed there are plenty of reasons why God shouldn’t want me as a pastor, yet Gods work in my life doesn’t depend upon just me. There are so many people who have been instrumental in my call to ministry and continue to nurture and guide me. There are also the newer people in my life who sustain me and keep me going in my new role. And each day, I wake up incredibly grateful for where God has called me to serve today.
As a woman in ministry, this feels especially so.
Some do not have positive associations with the church or those in ministry.
Will I be on the receiving end of someone’s animosity against the church?
Will someone have issue with the fact that I am a woman in ministry?
While I could walk around worrying, I’ll hold onto the words of affirmation, gratitude, that affirm I am where I a should be. I will also hold with care the words of the women in my congregation who are grateful for a woman’s voice among the clergy in leadership. I work with two other great pastors, who are gifted in what they do, affirm and encourage me in what I do, and I’m so thankful to call them my colleagues.
Yes, I’m proud to say I’m a pastor, and cannot wait until I’m officially ordained as a minister in Presbyterian Church (USA).
To become a pastor there are things you must do. Here are some of those things I’ve had to do:
In October, I preached before 1/3 of the presbytery, two months after my examination by the COM (committee on ministry) examinations committee. The final step in the ordination process is finally complete.
Could these steps have been completed faster? Absolutely.
Would I be the same person in ministry if I had rushed through them? Absolutely not.
Now I have a service of ordination and installation to finalize and a commission to to have approved by the Presbytery of the James (hopefully today). Theses services are slated for just after Epiphany, as I wanted to ensure that some important people in my journey to ordination could be there. In case you’re not aware, a service in the weeks leading up to or during advent is not an ideal time for those in ministry for an ordination service.
I am beyond excited and grateful for all that has happened and all that comes next.
P.S. If you are someone who has journeyed alongside me in this process… thank you! I seriously, could not do this without you.
Happy Monday! I shared on Friday that there are some things in the works for HebrewDawn, and I couldn’t wait to tell you! Some may have noticed that there has been a routine developing as to the type of material and topics posted (Mondays – motherhood, Wednesdays – faith, and Fridays – fun). There will still be a routine to what is posted and when, but there will be a little bit of a shift. Are you ready to hear what it is?
Drum roll please….
Mondays will remain motherhood and motivation focused, but that is not all. There is a new series coming your way and YOU are invited to be a part of it!
Throughout this series we’ll hear stories from other moms, answering some of our questions, sharing their stories, and helping us know that we’re not alone on this motherhood journey. We will hear from moms with children of all ages, AND veteran moms who have survived living with kids and then had them leave the nest. So how do you get to be a part of this? If you have questions for these moms or if you would be interested in being featured, leave a comment or send me a message.
Wednesdays will be taking on a new focus from what they’ve been. Now the focus will be on wellness, and it will be from a 360 perspective. We will take a look at wellness through the lens of fitness, diet, heart, and mind. To enrich our conversations on this topic, be on the lookout for a new voice coming to HebrewDawn as a regular contributor!
Fridays will continue be a mix of faith and fun. This should be a positive way to finish out our week, refresh our souls, and get us ready for the coming week.
Thank you for being a faithful reader, and I hope you’ll be a part of the excitement however you may contribute to the conversation (questions, comments, or sharing a story too). As always I’ll hope you’ll spread the word to others of all that’s going on and all that’s coming so we can each be encourage and inspired as we journey together.
Happy Monday!
Worship with a two year old may not always be as calm or introspective as it was before having a child, but it has definitely become more meaningful. I’ve shared before that we try each week to keep VHP in service with us and she is beginning to really understand the different parts of the service. She has come to love passing the peace, loves to sing, and really looks forward to communion (Eucharist). Watching my little girl’s faith blossom and grow is one of my greatest joys.
A few weeks ago I had a moment that nearly made this mama cry watching her little girl in worship. As is often the case, we didn’t make it through the entire sermon before we needed to step out of the sanctuary into the hallways to get some wiggles out. Thankfully we can still hear what’s happening through the speaker and soon it was time for communion. VHP was anxious to head back in as soon as the pastor began to say the words of institution, break the bread, and pour wine (juice in this case) into the cup. When the feast was set we made the attempt to quietly head back to our seats and wait our turn, but VHP was too excited to be quiet. She squealed and tried to run forward, and I managed to catch her before she took off for the front of the sanctuary. Miraculously this did not result in a toddler fit of screaming!
We waited our turns and held hands as we walked forward. The church member who was serving the bread leaned down so VHP could help me break off a piece of bread for her. This little girl tore off the biggest piece of bread she’s ever had for communion! Then our pastor leaned down to her level with the cup so she could dip the bread herself. VHP then slurped up her bread and juice as if it was the best meal of her life, and had the biggest smile on her face. Mommy may have helped break the bread, but she essentially had communion all on her own. Watching how our church family helped her partake of this meal put a whole new meaning on the phrase “the joyful feast of the Lord.”
Evenings in the Parker family can be a mix of sweet and chaotic, but on your average Wednesday chaotic seems a little more accurate of a description. I rush from work eager to see my daughter and I’m greeted with squeals and hugs. Sometime after that delightful greeting, I encounter this rage-filled demonic being toddler who is angry with me over God knows what. My great sin could that I buckled her car seat rather than allowing her to do it, I used the keys to drive the car rather than let her hold them, or I dared to make dinner without allowing her to help with every step of the process. Whatever the case may be, there is great angst between pick-up and dinner being set on the table. If I’m lucky there are other sweet moments before bed, but there are nights there is a long wait for bedtime.
Last Wednesday evening was a night with more delightful moments than I could have expected from my two year old. I expected things to be like most nights in which VHP gets her plate first and begins inhaling her food before my husband and I can sit down to the table to eat as a family. Instead our little big girl was nibbling at her food trying to wait for us to come to the table. Once my husband and I sat down we began to eat our meal, because we were starving. Instead of digging in too, VHP fussed at us adults. “No eat yet, pray,” she declared. My gracious, us adults completely forgot to bless the meal and she kept us in check! My husband asked her if she wanted to say the prayer and she agreed.
“Dear God. Thank you soup. Amen.”
Her prayer was much simpler than her first mealtime prayer and much more to the point than her friend Elle’s, but it was enough to convey thanks for the soup her daddy made.
The fact that she at two reminded us to bless the meal melted my heart, but it turns out she was not finished. Shortly after dinner I was taking on kitchen clean-up and it was my husband handling bedtime. We were all getting bedtime hugs and kisses, which turned into us receiving a few bise (French for kisses on the cheek). Next came more toddler of fun like high fives and fist bumps.When I thought we were finally done, VHP came back for more bise. Or so I thought. She asked for my husbands hand and then said what we thought was “bise” again. But my husband realized she was saying “peace”.
Suddenly it hit me that my daughter was passing the peace to my husband like we do on Sunday mornings at church. He responded as if the custom at church by saying, “and also with you” and gave her the biggest hug. Before I could catch my breath, it was my turn to receive the Peace of Christ from my daughter. She turned to me and said “peace to you”. My heart was and still is so full. The adults at our church have no idea that by passing the peace to our little girl how much they have taught her. Since she was a baby in worship members have greeted her during the passing of the peace, and still do. VHP has been paying attention more than we knew, and is taking what she learns in church out into the world with her.
Last month I shared about my daughter’s first prayer on her own. Today I’d like to share another Raising a Child of Faith story about a girl I’ll refer to as Elle. Her mom is a dear friend of mine from our time together in seminary, and though distance may separate us, I’m glad she’s on this parenting journey with me. Our daughters were born just 4 days apart, and I love hearing what they’re experiencing at almost the exact same time. Both of our girls are learning about their faith, and today I’ll share a story about Elle, her mom, and her impactful prayer.
Each year Elle’s daddy has to take a trip out of town for a conference for a few days. Elle’s parents are quite the team, but this trip means that my friend is flying solo in mommy land (shout out to you single parents, you’re rock stars for doing this around the clock). Thankfully a dear church members takes Elle and her mommy out at least once for a special date while daddy is gone. For the 2016 conference, dinner with this member became even more meaningful when the mundane became the sacred at dinner.
For some people praying out loud before a meal in a public restaurant is uncomfortable experience. For Elle and her family, it’s the norm. Maybe it’s because her daddy is a pastor, but public prayer is the norm none the less. On this particular night, the adults followed their usual plan and said the prayer before the meal. For Elle this wasn’t good enough, and responded with “more pray.” Her request isn’t abnormal at home to pray more, but this time it was at a local Cracker Barrel. She felt the need to pray more for their meal.
This might not seem like that big of a deal to some, but Elle is only two years old. It’s only been in recent weeks that she has been the one to say the prayer at meals or bedtime, rather than her parents. On this particular night it was also the first that she said the prayer while dining out in public. She said:
Elle’s prayer was so simple, yet so sweet and just what needs to be said at a meal. What I love about Elle’s prayer is that her prayer wasn’t just special to her mom, myself, or those that know her. Apparently one of the servers heard her prayer, and slipped her mommy this note:
You never know the difference you’re making in the life of your child and those that you may encounter. If you’re ever called upon to say the mealtime prayer, may I recommend Elle’s prayer? Go forth and be the salt of the earth.
Have a story you’d like to share? I’d love to hear it! Also, if you have a Raising a Child of Faith story you’d like to share on HebrewDawn, please be sure to send me a note (hello at hebrewdawn.com).
“Let the little children come to me, and do not stop them; for it is to such as these that the kingdom of heaven belongs.” Matthew 5:14 (NRSV)
Many say that they are trying to raise a child, but my husband and I routinely say that we are trying to raise a person. Our goal is not to have an 18 year old that is still dependent on us, but a person ready to make it in the world on their own. Granted as a mom you kind of want to be needed, but at the end of the day I want my daughter to be able to stand on her own two feet. Faith is something that has been very important to my husband and I, and nurturing our daughter in her Christian Faith is part of raising a person for us. We’re not always sure that we have it right, but last night gave us a glimmer that we might be on the right track.
Last night we had my mother-in-law over to celebrate her birthday with a special dinner. Like many meals, but especially birthday dinner, we began the meal with prayer. We asked VHP if she’d like to do the prayer and she said yes. I started with the usual “Dear God,” and here is what she said:
Thank you [for] LKG.
Thank you [for] Meghan.
Thank you [for] Jason.
Amen.
LKG is her cousin, Meghan is her aunt, and Jason is her uncle. I was stunned. My little girl at the mere age of two had said her first prayer on her own, and the first person she wanted to pray for was her cousin. Not to be forgotten was her aunt and uncle.
We may not be perfect at this parenting thing. I might not be perfect at teaching her all things I want about being a Christian. But I think we may be onto something with prayer.
Today is the fourth and final part in my series on calling. If you missed the first three you can catch up by reading Part I, Part II, and Part III.
So where were we?
In December of 2009 I began my first full-time position in the church, and I was excited to take this next step in my journey through ministry. It was while working here over the next 18 months that I completed my clinical pastoral education (on top of working), planned a wedding, got married, and survived my first foot surgery. It was while working with the middle and high school students that I was able to give the all time that I had wanted to give youth (that I knew they needed). It was while working at this church that I began to question my call to parrish (church) ministry and my time spent in seminary.
Through months of discernment, tears, and tough conversations with my husband and mentors, I realized that my calling wasn’t exactly what I thought it was or should be. My call wasn’t cookie cutter like my seminary classmates. My call wasn’t that I should be confined to the four walls of a church. I wasn’t completely sure how it would all shake out, but I knew I needed to do something different. In May of 2011 I resigned from my position at the church to begin something new. In those moments I was afraid that my seminary degree was a waste if I wasn’t working in a church, but had to trust what would happen next.
Over the next few years I spent time doing work similar and unlike anything I ever had before. I briefly went back to teaching at the preschool I had worked at through college and my first semester of seminary. I loved working with the children, but the LOW salary wasn’t something I could live with long-term. Hats off to those making a career in early childhood, because you survive on pennies! In January of 2012, I began a new chapter for myself. I moved into the not-for–profit sector where I realized that all my education and career experience wasn’t for naught. I might not use my biblical and theological (seminary) training in my day-to-day work, but the other skills (public speaking, conflict resolution, listening and caring, etc.) I gained were invaluable. In my personal time, I was able to give back to my church using my biblical and theological training through teaching and leading small groups.
Throughout all of this, I continued through the ordination process of the PCUSA. I did everything I needed to do to get ordained, EXCEPT the last two steps (getting certified ready to receive a call and finding a call). Many move from one step to the next without a pause, but I personally wouldn’t allow myself to get certified until I knew exactly and where God was calling me to serve. For FIVE years I continued in this process of trying to understand where and how God was calling me to serve. Through this period of discernment, my husband and I bought our “forever home” and started a family thus establishing roots firmly near our family.
In October of this year, I finally withdrew from the candidacy process for ordination. I did this not because I no longer believe God was calling me to serve. I came to realize that I was not in a place my life that I was ready to pick up and move for the chance to be ordained. You see, in the Presbyterian church, you have to have a call (a JOB) to be ordained to. Though I know the work I’m currently doing professionally and as a volunteer IS where God is calling me to be, it’s not the kind for ordination. I don’t know if or when this will change, but I knew it wasn’t fair to the committee waiting on me and my paperwork. I cried writing that letter of resignation, but I know that this isn’t the end.
I hope to share more in the future about all of this, but I’ll end for now sharing some things that I’ve come to realize.
I’m excited to see what God has in store for me in the future.
I’m excited and grateful for where I am now, the people I work with, and the people I get to volunteer with at my church.
Being called by God is not one size fits all. God uses those around you to speak to you and guide you where you need to be in a given moment. As much as you may try to run or hide from where God is calling you, you cannot get away from the Almighty. You’ll never know what’s around the corner, but it’s usually better than you’d expect.
Almost every Sunday at 10:15 am, my heart is overflowing with gratefulness. This overflow is in response to a God that is so good, and for a community that my family is blessed to be a part of. I know that for many church may not be where you find community, but it’s a great place to find it. Each week my daughter is excited to walk through the doors, to see the people she loves, to sing, take communion, and play with her friends. It’s through being in community with these great people that my heart is full of joy each week.
Community is what nurtures us in the good times, lifts us up when times are tough, and journeys alongside us through the mundane. Most weeks can seem commonplace, but I’m learning eachweek something special is happening for my daughter. Recently I’ve noticed that VHP is learning and understanding what it means to worship. Most of the time, she remains for most if not all of the service. Typically we bring a few activities (coloring, non-noise making toys, etc.) to keep her noise-level down during the quieter times of the service (sermons in particular). Honestly, it has taken the patience of those around her (my husband and I included), but also the words of encouragement from other people. They let us know that they enjoy seeing her in worship, hearing her little voice participate in the service, and they know what it’s like to have a little on in worship. Our littler person now LOVES to pass the peace (greet those around us and shake hands). She loves to sing and dancing to the music. She loves to go forward for the children’s message, learn from watching the big kids. And she longs for the moment we go forward to take communion.
If it weren’t for this community, my daughter would not have had the opportunity to play with some of her favorite friends on a Saturday morning of this week. If it weren’t for this community, my daughter would not have had the opportunity to explore the Christmas story, act it out, and attempt to be a one lady Christmas pageant. If it weren’t for this community, two year olds would simply be other toddlers in worship rather than having something special to do on Christmas pageant Sunday. If it weren’t for this community, I would not have met my husband. If it weren’t for this community, I would not have some of the friendships that make adulting better.
I recognize that not everyone has this kind of community, and may long for this. I also know that community can be different for everyone, in particular church may not be where you find it. What I would encourage each of us, is to find community where you are and to help create it around you. Life is better spent with other people, supporting and encouraging one another. It was once shared with me, that the Chinese characer for person represents two people supporting each other. I believe that this imagery is VERY fitting, whether or not it is true. We live in a society that likes us to think it’s better to do it all ourselves, and to pride ourselves how independent we can be. That’s great and all, but being together is where I’d rather be.
Today is Part III in my series on calling. If you missed the first two you can catch up by reading Part I and Part II.
By application time for seminary, I had my heart set on attending Duke Divinity School, was highly considering Wesley Theological Seminary, and applied to Union Theological Seminary & Presbyterian School of Christian Education (now named Union Presbyterian Seminary). In thinking about each school I thought Duke would provide the academically rigorous environment that I was looking for in a master’s program. In digging deeper about each school, I believed Wesley would provide the social justice minded environment I was looking for in a program. In wrapping up my evaluations on all three schools, I thought Union would be a descent compromise, but not the place for me.
As I kept praying about where I was called to go and writing all the essays that the application process required, I began to have a change of heart. I began to question whether or not Duke would be the right place for me, especially if it was going to cost me $100,000 in tuition, books, room and board. I began to question if Union wasn’t so bad after all. They did require that their M.Div. students take both Biblical Greek and Hebrew prior to taking New and Old Testament. I began to wonder if Wesley was the right place if they didn’t require their M.Div. students to take Biblical Greek and Hebrew prior to taking Old and New Testament courses. After all this praying, wondering, and questioning, I knew where I was called to go.
I realized despite my own desire to run the other way, God was calling me to attend Union Presbyterian Seminary. I’m so glad I didn’t follow my desire to run the other way of my calling and listened, because Union was truly the right place for me. This was the academically rigorous environment I was looking for in school. This was the social justice minded group that I needed. This was the place that I needed to grow in ways I didn’t know that I could. I was reminded in this whole process of how stubborn I can be, that there is always more to the plan than I realize, and that God really wants what is best for us. I’m thankful I wasn’t stubborn, because the time I spent (and still spend) at Union and the relationships I formed nurture me today.
During my first semester of seminary I realized that getting ordained in the United Methodist Church was not for me. I spent time learning more about different denominations, visiting churches AGAIN, and finally found my new church home. By January of 2007 I began regularly attending Three Chopt Presbyterian Church (TCPC), joined in May of that year, and soon began the ordination process for the PCUSA. The summer I joined TCPC, I became the youth director there as well. In this role, I had the opportunity to professionally do what I had done as a volunteer for so long. I had the privilege of working with many great middle and high schoolers, great volunteers, and under a wonderful head of staff. Through my work at TCPC I grew a lot, was challenged in various ways, dealt with difficult people, nurtured young people through their tough and joyous times, and realized that I was doing what I was called to do.
Three years of seminary came and went very fast. During that time I made great friends, learned from excellent professors, grew a deeper love for languages (as if that was possible), and was ready for life to work in the church. By the fall after graduation, I came to the realization that I could no longer continue making my part-time work at TCPC. I -really need a full-time job to support myself, my career, and continue growing professionally. So began the process of juggling my current job, applying and interviewing for new positions, and discerning where was it I should go. By November of that year, I had to say goodbye to a group of people I loved working with, prepare for a new job, became engaged, and many decisions to make.
Check back next week for more!
HebrewDawn 