Month: September 2023

  • I didn’t expect this week to be what it has been. Honestly, I’m not even sure how to describe it if

    I didn’t expect this week to be what it has been. Honestly, I’m not even sure how to describe it if you asked… but I feel like today should be Friday because I need a day to recover from the last three days.

    Unfortunately, that’s not reality. 

    I woke up early this morning. The change in season and lingering darkness in the morning has made it increasingly difficult to rouse, and at 6 a.m., my brain thought it was still the middle of the night. I had a headache (that has still not let up as of the writing of this), and I was not looking forward to any of what was to come. After too many days of heaviness, I just wanted to wake up feeling rested.

     It was not to be. But today started anyway. 

    Work… Life… Past… Future… It has all converged today. The clarity with which things are visible is striking, but it is a lot to hold.

    It is now 5pm on this Wednesday at the end of September. And as quietly as the completion of my course of study for ordination snuck up on me a few weeks ago, tonight I rest differently, having just submitted the last paper for my final traditional class in my masters program. 

    Tomorrow, I’ll begin the capstone project to complete this part of my education. 

    For tonight, I’m claiming the reality that life moves on. I’m learning and growing. Just as there were when I was younger, there are pains associated with that process. I survived them then, and I will do the same now. I’ll breathe through them, cry through them, laugh through them, scream through them… 

    Above all, though, I’ll love through them. Through the growing pains, I’ll love with hugs and with boundaries, each in their own time. It worked yesterday, it worked today, it will work tomorrow. 

    Love will always work. 
    And the holy calling to live it out loud is not a simple one… but it works.

    Do at least one thing for you tonight. Show yourself that you are loved. Because you are.
    I love you all, and I am absolutely exhausted. Both are true. 

  • I’ve been watching the changing of seasons closely this year. So much so that I think I noticed the

    I’ve been watching the changing of seasons closely this year. So much so that I think I noticed the very first day there was a red leaf on the tree in our backyard. Since that day, they have been increasing in number and decreasing in altitude as they fall to the ground below. The tree is still mostly green. If I hadn’t felt the crispness in the air, I might believe it was just a fluke. But the season is definitely changing, a fact that is supported by the looming autumnal equinox.

    This weekend officially rings in the beginning of my favorite time of year. When the air gets colder and the colors of fall show up in earnest, I feel like I come to life. By the time we shift to winter, I am ready for the freeze… for things to turn white… for the silence to reset things.
    Last year at this time, I was all the way around the world. I was on a different continent, experiencing a whole new reality, which was an amazing gift. When I got home, the change had occurred, and life had moved on. Being able to be present this year to watch the shift happen has also been a gift.
    Seasonal changes bring me so much hope these days. While there is part of them that brings to mind the marching on of life, there is also a growing part of me that is able to find rest in the steadiness of the change.
    I may not always know which leaf will turn first or where it will fall. It might be impossible to predict when the cold winds will empty the tree or when the first snow will come. But I can hold onto the fact that these changes are coming. As surely as my next breath, they will continue until they don’t. I don’t have to predict them, control them, or even always like them… but I can depend on them.
    And in the consistent changes, I can love forward steadily… without having to predict, control, or always like what that looks like. I can just love and rest in the reality that the change will come. The change from the heat of summer to the coolness of fall. The change from the youth of yesterday to the maturity of tomorrow. The change from the weight of conformity to the lightness of authenticity.
    Change is hope.
    To everything, there is a season, friends. Whatever this season holds for you… breathe in, breathe out… hold onto hope, and take note of the change.
    I love you!
    1f49c I’ve been watching the changing of seasons closely this year. So much so that I think I noticed the1f49c I’ve been watching the changing of seasons closely this year. So much so that I think I noticed the1f49c I’ve been watching the changing of seasons closely this year. So much so that I think I noticed the

  • I didn’t want to write the paper. I don’t want to spend time proving that I have learned to parrot…

    I didn’t want to write the paper. 

    I don’t want to spend time proving that I have learned to parrot the harmful rhetoric that I am working so hard to undo in my own mind and to overcome in the path forward… and being graded on how well I can do it. The frustration caused by submitting to a problematic process which has repeatedly done damage in my life has brought up some significant anxiety this past week. It made me feel unsafe in current relationships that have proven to be relatively stable. And it brought up old tapes that have been effectively silenced for some time now.

    I didn’t want to write the paper. 

    It gets exhausting presenting chunks of myself to people who only want me to reflect themselves back to them. My writing means something to me and I hate intentionally setting it in front of people who could not possibly want to read anything less than what I have to say. 

    I didn’t want to write the paper. 

    Because I keep being told to quote more, or don’t quote at all. To meet a word count, but don’t go beyond it. That the word count is a minimum and I shouldn’t consider my work done unless I’ve clearly surpassed it. 

    I didn’t want to write the paper. 

    By Sunday morning, I didn’t even want to go to church in order to avoid the potential that I would see church people… which makes me sad because I am finally learning to consistently look beyond my own pain but this week it was blinding me. 

    This morning I’m headed back into the “real” world. I’ve been graded and found wanting by the church. I’m not what they want me to be. I still don’t fit in…

    And today, I’m working on being thankful for that. Because I do get honest feedback and can make changes from people who know me and care about my well-being. I am held accountable to growth and health beyond compliance. I can live into what I am called to do. 


    Community can be safe.

    I will be healthy. 

    Sometimes, it may be difficult to keep choosing that… but I can do this. 

    It’s the Mondayest Tuesday today. I’m starting out tired. Grief from many sides sits heavily. The weekend can’t get here soon enough. 

    I’m working on rest this week. I need to sleep. Choose something to do to take care of you today. You’re worth it. 

    I love you all! 

    💜💜💜