Yes, pastors are human too . . . fun and sexy even!

So I'm coming to recognize that I am not a traditional pastor . . . you know the one that people have in their mind of what a pastor is supposed to look like, supposed to sound like, supposed to act like. Well, I'm not that pastor. I wear funky, stylish outfits . . . sexy even. I tell funny jokes . . . use slang sometimes even. I bowl, dance, go to the movies (even the R-rated ones), listen to R&B, read books other than those centered on theological topics or talk about Jesus . . . play pool even.

So, you might say I'm slightly off center of those visions -- at least trying to be. For the most part, I'd like to think I live outside of some of these wild, crazy notions and expectations that we have about ministers -- like the one I heard from a fellow preaching sister who said that someone was shocked that she actually went to the movies.

Really? God forbid we see our preachers or pastors going to the movies! Some would have proclaimed us Hell-bound a long time ago . . . oops! I said the word, "Hell".

So of course it probably isn't appropriate that I like to shoot a game of pool every now and then or sing karaoke or listen to Rick James and Teena Marie sing "Fire and Desire" (which I just heard minutes ago). I started thinking about these notions we have our of spiritual leaders after wresting with myself over whether I should have even posted this picture of me in all of my beauty with a pool stick in hand. I started thinking about what people would say and how they would wonder, "Is she really a minister?" or mumble "She isn't like any preacher, I know!"
I got even more nervous when someone referred to the pose as "Hot"! (By the way, can a minister be "Hot"?Of course not, especially if she's a female. What was I thinking?).

Actually, the question is "Where did this thinking come from? Since when did I cease to be less holy, less spiritual and less than capable of carrying out my duties as a minister? Since when did I cease to become less than human? None of these aspects of who I am are lessened by the fact that I hold a pool stick in my hand, sing karaoke and simply have fun. A friend of mine quoted that she and I and some other women she knows in ministry, "walk by the beat of their own drum".

And that's what I'm doing . . . strutting in my peeptoe pumps and high heel slingback sandels with my funky, eyecatching toe pedicure design in only the way that I can . . . in a way that I believe is not offensive to Jesus . . . in a way that I believe liberates me and others from this bondage we have been held in and hold other people in . . . in a way that I believes helps me proudly proclaim that a decision to follow Jesus is a decision to live in freedom from the world's social constructs. There are still many things or aspects of my personality in my BC (Before Jesus) days that I can hold onto now that I'm a member of Team Jesus!

It's crazy how we fall into these realms of thought . . . most due to years and years of being programmed to think this way. It happens almost unconsciously and only when we begin to speak some of the thoughts aloud or find ourselves in conversation with others do we ask, "Where did that rule come from?" or "Who said that?" do we begin to realize how asinine some of these streams of consciousness really are. Clearly I've been a victim too. I started believing the criticisms and living in a way that prohibited my authentic self from shining through, but quickly realized just because I'm pastoral, doesn't mean that I'm not sexy, pretty or as a friend said, "hot". God made all of me and I encompass those qualities. This is who I am and I must embrace it. We have to begin to redefine how we come to think about ministers, remembering that they are human too. This, however, does not give us a free pass to live recklessly and "on our own terms" in a way that "causes our brothers to stumble" or turn away from God.

The truth is that while I am a preacher, proclaimer of the Word of God or however you want to define it, I am not perfect. I will fail. . . I will make mistakes . . . and like my friends and family and future congregants, will find myself struggling and wresting, while working and striving to become better each day!

And as I journey into each of these coming days, I will take all of what makes me ME, with me . . . my beauty, my fashion sense, playful nature and all!

With that said, I think I'm ready for a game of Spades now!

The going is tough . . . but necessary

A Candler colleague of mine said something today that struck me: "One thing I've learned about ministry is that it teaches you to go!" I think he's right. "Going" is one of the premises of ministry. Hence the language about "Go ye therefore and make disciples, yadda, yadda yadda."
I think you get the point.

But I must admit I'm not always ready to go. . . not always ready to take the leap . . . take that step . . . go where I'm called. Basically because it means that I'm leaving something behind . . . leaving people behind . . . leaving a life that was started behind . . . leaving even a part of myself behind. The reality is, this is the life that I am called to now -- a vocation where my greatest joys and purpose meets the world's greatest need. At least that's how theologian Frederick Buechner describes this vocation of ministry. It is one that requires service to the "other", where ever they may be. This is where the tension lies: You have this life of new promise before you, but a wrestling in the spirit over the journey that must be taken.

It's interesting that I find myself thinking about this now . . . during this season of Lent . . . on the eve of Holy Week . . . approaching the days when we will reflect on the journey Christ took to the cross. It leaves me wondering whether Jesus ever wrestled with the going. Did some of those questions come to mind as he embarked on his ministry? It's possible, even though he knew he should "be about his father's business." That's knowledge I too, have, but it doesn't stop me from being apprehensive or giving "the going" a second thought. I have to believe that in Jesus' humanity, the questions came to mind too . . . as the end was drawing near . . . as he prayed in the Garden of Gethsemane for the cup to pass . . . as he hung on the cross, seeing the face of his mother Mary and "John the Beloved" in despair. In Jesus' humanity, I have to believe that "the going" was tough.

But in the end it is necessary.

As I approach the end of my second year in seminary and face the reality of having to go again, I'm already becoming nostalgic. I am admittedly apprehensive, but yet I understand why I have to go. . . be willing to go. It is necessary. I came across a quote by Gwendolyn Brooks that I think makes it even more clear why my "going" is essential . . . why it matters. According to Brooks, "We are each other's harvest, we are each other's business, we are each other's magnitude and bond."

Now if that ain't a good description of what ministry is, I don't know what is.
So, in that vain, I go . . . am willing to go . . . will be ready to go.

Second year blues . . .

A friend of mine from seminary called me today -- just to say hi! She said she had been praying for me. She had been praying for God to mend my brokenness. At first I thought, "I'm not broken." But then just as quickly as that thought occurred, I heard, "Yes, you are!"
And I am. And not just broken, but shattered. That's just how bad this semester has been. That's just how trying this semester has been. That's just how exhaustive this semester has been.

I shouldn't be surprised. I was warned my second year would be this way. I was warned this would be the year of my Crucifixion -- the year I would die. I feel like I've died. It's taken everything within me to just make it through these past four months. And it's taking everything within me to gather up the strength to press forward toward the next.

At least twice today, I had someone tell me what I good decision I made to pursue a life of ministry. And both times I responded that it wasn't my decision. No, this bright idea to become a minister, wasn't mine. It was God's all along, even when I didn't see the signs. There are times, I still question, "What was God thinking?" These are the days when I find it would be so much easier for me to just get a job at Home Depot, Lowe's or a book store. These are the days, when I feel death the most -- when I don't want to be so extraordinary.

But yet, here I am -- halfway through seminary. Halfway through earning my Master of Divinity degree and so many miles away from the young woman who thought, ate, drank and slept newspapers and bylines and front page stories. I'm not that woman anymore. I'm fast becoming the woman who reads and studies the style of preachers and who takes notes on how to establish various ministries and who cries at injustice and the plight of those less fortunate. I'm the woman who now instead of picking up the latest newspapers, picks up the latest theological textbooks and study Bibles wondering how they will better inform my sermons. I'm becoming this "preacher person".

Some days I like the journey. Some days I don't.
Today is one of those days, where I'm not sure how I feel.
I'm just glad I don't have a class to attend.

I journey on . . .

I had to be reminded today that life is about journeying . . . waiting . . . living a number of experiences that build upon themselves to provide lessons -- if we grasp them -- that allows us to move with more wisdom into the next phase of our lives. I'm just coming off some hellish weeks of mid-terms with a sad disposition because I'm not doing well right now. The last exam, I struggled through it this week (It was a take-home exam that should have been completed with 20 pages of answers. I only turned in 12 or something like that after staying up all night trying to finish.)

So, right now, the grades are not good. I'm behind and in trouble in the bulk of my classes and I'm wondering once again, "What is the lesson? God where is this going? Am I really equipped for this? Who in the hell thought they should let me through the doors of this place?"
And I've yet to really hear all the answers.

I would love to run away, but sadly I cannot, because I recognize that there is nowhere else for me to go. Candler is where I'm supposed to be . . . even on the days when I'm frustrated about being here. . . even on the days when I have more questions than answers about my life's direction and capabilities.

So, I'm attempting to regroup and establish a plan for how to move forward -- one of which is to hone my synthesizing skills to better understand the information -- and I'm trying to live in the many questions I have right now. I'm preparing for a girl's night featuring a movie documentary showing and discussion with members of Sistah Circle, a ministry group for women of the African diaspora that I head up at Candler. And as I have been preparing, I was reminded of a reading from Rainer Maria Rilke's fourth letter he wrote in the Letters to a Young Poet I want to share with them about being in the midst of life while grappling with the questions about an uncertain future. I think all of us find ourselves in that place from time to time. But Rainer Maria Rilke has wisdom to share:

"be patient toward all that is unresolved in your heart and try to love the questions themselves like locked rooms and like books that are written in a very foreign tongue. Do not now seek the answers, which cannot be given you because you would not be able to live them. And the point is, to live everything. Live the questions now. Perhaps you will then gradually, without noticing it, live along some distant day into the answer."

So, with that sage wisdom I journey on . . . trusting and believing that I will live into the answers at the right and appropriate time. In God's time. I journey on, carrying with me the words God spoke to Jeremiah, when he too was not certain about the mission he was called to take up: For I know the plans I have for you, plans to prosper you and not harm you, plans to give you a future and a hope." 29:11

Liberation bound . . .

I started at Spelman today . . . attended my first worship service in Sisters Chapel . . . four days after Spelman sophomore Jasmine Lynn was shot and killed as a result of an altercation between two men that sent bullets flying in the direction she was walking on Clark Atlanta's campus. The service was about her. . . the life she lived . . . and the memories and impact she left behind on those who knew her. What a way to start my ministry there. When I heard the news on Thursday morning, I knew my experience at Spelman, coming in as an assistant chaplain this year would be marked by much more than I expected. So, I'm praying God will prepare me for ministry within this context -- one where a university complex exists within the urban core of a community struggling to survive. A community that is riddled with this type of crime. A community where some of the countries brightest, shining black students -- some who are part of a legacy of Spelman women come to come into their own. I question how my experiences here impact where I go next? How they will shape my ministry?

The preacher for the day reminded us all of what Ephesians 2:10 says about us: that we are masterpieces of art God created to do good works and those works were created well in advance for us to carry out to perform.

Jasmine Lynn, say her friends, performed those good works, even though her time seemed short. She lived life freely and showed love to those who did not always show kindness to her. She encouraged those whose path she crossed to live their life purposefully. And she challenged all of us to consider: "What gifts will I leave behind?"

Ephesians 2, as the preacher pointed out, reminds us that we were all created to change and transform the world. And so I pray over this next year to discover why God called me to Spelman and what gifts I'm to leave behind in its halls that will hopefully change and transform a small part of the world of the girls I come to meet. And I pray that within the process, I come to understand the changes God needs to bring about in me.

Ten on Tuesday

1. I realized this morning, I'll be heading back to Atlanta a week from today, finished with my three-month internship at Harvest UMC in Sarasota/Bradenton. . . with a clearer perspective on where this journey in ministry is taking me and feeling a bit more comfortable about the trip. I learned this summer, I'm meant to be a pastor . . . I'm meant to preach and teach, inspire and empower and set the captives free. Wow! That's so far from where I was when I started seminary.
2. A week from this Friday, I'll be flying on a non-stop flight to Johannesburg, S. Africa. I wrote this on my list of 100 things I'll like to do before I die about 1 1/2 years ago and the dream is coming true. I think there is something to be said about the "bucket list".
3. I started my research and prep work on the sermon I hope to give in S. Africa on the 16th. Still got a lot of work to do, though, but excited I may be sharing the word some 7,000 miles or 16 hours by plane away from home.
4. In less than a month, the new semester starts and I'm not sure if I'm ready. The thought of it tires me out, but I'm also excited about working at Spelman as an assistant chaplain.
5. Speaking of, I already know that I'm preaching there on Feb. 14.
6. A Web site I'll be writing for TheOlio.org has launched. I know my bio is already there, so check it out!
7. I'm looking forward to moving into my own apartment this fall, just not the act of moving right after my S. Africa jaunt. Can we say jet lag. God help me!
8.I've seen this place here called heavenlycupcakes but have missed them by 20 or 30 minutes after they've closed. The plan was to go there last Saturday, (after I missed them on Friday) as a treat to myself following a day of shopping and store browsing, but alas, they closed as 4 p.m. just as I was leaving this boutique with a new sweater and pair of Nine West wedge heels. So, I'm making a point to head there again. . . this Friday. Right now, my flavors are between Love Ya Dolly (lemon cupcake with buttercreme icing), Red Velvet Delight, the Double Stuff (a cookies and creme, Oreo lovers cupcake) or the Rudy (a carrot cake with cream cheese icing). Or maybe I'll get one of each! Heck I think I deserve it!
9. It would be just as I'm leaving Sarasota, I find the rib and fried fish man on the corner.
10. I'll probably hit that corner too this weekend before I leave. Got ribs last week. I think fried fish is calling me this weekend.

So what is prayer . . .

I preached on prayer last Sunday. It was the second part of the Prayer series that we kicked off here at Harvest. The week before, I opened with "The Goal of Prayer" answering the question of why do we pray by examining why Jesus prayed. Last week, we discussed the "Spirit of Prayer" by taking a look at how we define prayer. This is a snippet of what the Lord had me to say about prayer:

Prayer. A word that we hear frequently. Some of us have heard it since the time of our birth, since the time we were children:

Now I lay me down to sleep.
I pray the Lord my soul to keep
If I should die before I wake,
I pray the Lord my soul to take.

Prayer. An act that we carry out every Sunday – at least five times during each service: at the beginning, during the prayers of the people, before the message, after the message, during Holy Communion.
Prayer. The thing we feel we can’t do until our lives are “just right.”
Prayer. A six letter word that the Harper Collins Bible Dictionary describes as “an act of petitioning, praising, giving thanks, or confessing to God.”
Prayer. Something we assume we should master like a difficult math problem or playing the piano.
Prayer. A word that manifest butterflies in our stomach and slight sweat on the brow at the moment we have been asked to do it – publicly.
Prayer. An experience that we participate in daily, but often fail to recognize.
Prayer. A word that baffles us, but yet amazes us with the power it generates.
Prayer. A word that attracts us, but yet repels us.
Prayer. A word that calls to us, but leaves us speechless – at times.
Prayer. A love relationship we have with our creator.
Prayer. The key to God’s heart.
Prayer. The solution to our sorrow.
Prayer. Sometimes a moan.
Prayer. Sometimes a groan.
Prayer. A mind reliever.
Prayer. An invitation.
Prayer. Simply, a conversation with God.