One thing I have always liked about the Catholic Church is the practice of penance.  Not in the way that you do these things and you’ll go to heaven, or earn God’s forgiveness, but simply having an intentional time of thinking about regrets and actively doing something that helps lay them aside.  Alcoholics Anonymous does this by the steps that ask you to make a list of people you have wronged, make amends when possible, and continue to take inventory of how this is going in your life.  While God gives grace freely, there is work that has to be done on our end sometimes that allows us to truly be able to receive that and to be in harmony with others. Instead of becoming a new creation, we can be dogged by things from our past.  When I struggled with writing a paper this semester, I didn’t simply acknowledge that the coursework at Duke Divinity School is academically challenging, but instead dug up my high school past and beat  myself up with the thought that I have always been  slacker.

It’s time to lay down the regrets of my past and to walk towards the healing that I need to be a new creation and a servant of God.

I was looking for a summer travel experience that would help me to heal from the death of my parents that was as powerful as the one I had two years ago that helped me heal from the pain of divorce.

In November, I went to a movie called The Way with my friend Jen.  During the opening credits, she whispered, “Be careful, this movie may cause wanderlust.”  The movie is about a pilgrimage in northern Spain called the Camino de Santiago.  There are many routes, but the most common one starts in the Pyranees mountains in France and people walk the 800 KM to Santiago, where there is a pilgrim’s mass held in the Cathedral of St. James.

In June, I will meet Danielle in Spain and we will walk the last 112 KM (about 70 miles) from Sarria to Santiago.  We have our backpacks and hiking boots and will be traveling light.  I am ready to let this pilgrimage guide me and be whatever the Spirit leads it to be.  My hopes are that I will lay down my past regrets and heal my past hurts as I step into a new phase of my life.

Instead of doing the whole 800 KM, I realized that I tend have more of an ADD approach to travel.  So, I will fly into Paris, and couch surf around Germany, Switzerland, Austria, and Italy.  After the Camino, I will spend a few days in England, then end up with a few more days in Paris before returning home, spending a few days with Brittany in Hoboken on either end of the trip.

The day after I get home, is moving day, where I will move into the City Road UMC parsonage and begin my life in ministry.  I plan to carry the spirit of adventure from my parents with me throughout my travels as I walk towards this new phase of my life.

When I moved away from Orlando last summer, I didn’t have the time to look back at what I was leaving behind.  It was full steam ahead into my new life.  I started at Duke this fall in a flash of adrenaline where I was trying to master new material and care for my parents, running at a high energy level, sometimes feeling like everything depended on me.

Some of the bridges that brought me from my life in Orlando to the new world of Duke are still there supporting me, but some are gone.  My parents were the most beautiful and bittersweet bridge that got me here.  Now they are gone.  Sam Wells calmed me down and reminded me that everything really depends on God.  In a year where I have left so many tears on the sanctuary floor, I have had a shepherd to guide me from frenzy to grief to healing. Now he is moving on to new adventures in his life.

Driving around in Orlando and seeing the things that have changed and the things that have stayed the same have forced me to reflect on my life and my past.  I have a lot of layers here. Some are beautiful memories, some are painful things that I feel were inflicted on me, some are regrets I have about pain I may have inflicted on others, and some are live connections to people that are still important in my life and are still giving me energy as I go forward.  I have changed and am continuing to be transformed, but this was a pause in my journey to remember it all, the good and the bad, the times I succeeded and the times I fell short.

My friend and spiritual director, Carolyn shared this poem with me which sums this up beautifully:

The Layers – Stanley Kunitz

I have walked through many lives,

some of them my own,

and I am not who I was,

though some principle of being

abides, from which I struggle

not to stray.

When I look behind,

as I am compelled to look

before I can gather strength

to proceed on my journey,

I see the milestones dwindling

toward the horizon

and the slow fires trailing

from the abandoned camp-sites,

over which scavenger angels

wheel on heavy wings.

Oh, I have made myself a tribe

out of my true affections,

and my tribe is scattered!

How shall the heart be reconciled

to its feast of losses?

In a rising wind

the manic dust of my friends,

those who fell along the way,

bitterly stings my face.

Yet, I turn, I turn,

exulting somewhat,

with my will intake to go

wherever I need to go,

and every stone on the road

precious to me.

In my darkest night,

when the moon was covered

and I roamed through wreckage,

a nimbus-clouded voice

directed me:

“Live in the layers,

Not on the litter.”

Though I lack the art

to decipher it,

no doubt the next chapter

in my book of transformations

is already written.

I am not done with my changes.

E.C., me and my dad

When I first moved to the retirement community with my parents, the Emerald Pond dining room was sometimes like the high school cafeteria, where, although there was no official assigned seating, you dared not to sit in someone else’s regular spot.  I made this faux pas a few times early on and since I didn’t want to upset anyone, I found my own regular spot, with a retired lawyer named E.C.  Whenever I greeted him and asked how he was, he always said, “I’m here, that’s pretty good, right?”

E.C. welcomed me to his table and we bonded immediately.  He told me stories about being in World War II in England and about going to Duke for his undergraduate and law degrees.  When I read the book The Best of Enemies while I was in the Bridddge program, I found that he was mentioned in the book.  He told me about how things were in Durham during the civil rights movement.  He was always a perfect southern gentlemen and was wonderful with both of my parents.  If my dad didn’t appear to like his food, E.C. would offer to get him something else.  He wanted all of us to be comfortable, happy, and satisfied.

Whenever I wore my Duke Divinity t shirt, he always beamed with pride, just like a family member.  He said that he admired me for having a calling and following it. Then he would always say, “I never had a calling.”  I reminded him that in his long and successful law career, where he helped countless people, he was living out his calling.  He went to Sunday worship in the chapel and came to our Bible study from time to time.  He talked about playing the violin, but I never got to hear him.  He instinctively helped my parents and me, as we transitioned to our new life in Durham.  He let me know that he didn’t like my hair cut short and thought I was wasting my time taking Greek, but every day he asked me how school was going. He always said what was on his mind, but he had a heart of gold.

E.C. passed away on Sunday.  I can only imagine that my parents are welcoming him in heaven as E.C. so warmly welcomed us here. I can hear him saying, “I’m here, that’s pretty good,” as he lives eternally with God.

I have always seen myself as a loner, always wanting to retreat from the crowd.  I attribute this to my Myers-Briggs designation of INFJ – Introverted (which you would never know by how much I talk), Intuitive (If you are intuitive you get this about me right away), Feeling (I’m still devastated over a squirrel that got hit by a car today) and Judging (I like to make lists and plans. A lot.  But I’m close enough to the P side – Perceiving- that I don’t always follow through with those plans).

It turns out that I’m not a loner, that I actually really love people. When one of my young college friends invited me to spend the weekend at the beach, my first reaction was to politely decline, thinking that for them, it would be like having their mom along. But then I thought – what the heck – the beach sounds amazing.  We had seafood in Calabash, spent glorious days at the beach, went out for ice cream, and shared home cooked meals together.  I experienced Pizzookie for the first time – which is half baked cookie dough covered in ice cream.  I also enjoyed the chocolate chip pancakes for breakfast, some with happy faces, some with frowny faces, and a delicious dinner of spaghetti and garlic bread.  I forgot how sweet the movie Juno is in the end. I learned a little more about Eastern Orthodox Christianity and Cooperative Baptist Fellowship beliefs and traditions. I rejoiced with a friend who celebrated the news of receiving a passing grade in Hebrew by burning her Hebrew flash cards. While any gathering of Divinity School students generally causes conversations centering around the stress of upcoming papers, this time was different. With the first year behind us, our talks shifted to our larger theological views and the possibilities that lie ahead for each of us.

It turns out that I wasn’t the mom – that designation went to the organizer of the trip who in her final preparation email reminded us to bring sunscreen and underwear.

So,  I enjoyed a wonderful weekend at the beach and got a chance to know some of my Divinity School friends a little better. It reinforced the fact that I like living in community. Next week, I get a chance to spend a few days with another one of my favorite twenty-somethings – my daughter Danielle.

Today ended chapter one of Divinity School.  It will probably take me the whole summer to process everything that happened this year.  So, I am going to start like any Florida girl would do, by spending a few days at the beach, doing nothing.  But doing nothing with some very cool friends.

I’ve undergone an incredible expansion this year.  My heart has been molded and shaped by the experience of caring for and losing my parents and also from being surrounded by some of the most wonderful people I’ve ever met. My classmates are people that will encourage you when you are down, hug you when you need it, invite you to fun things, share their notes, their study guides, their scanned reference materials, and their time with you to help you succeed.

My brain has expanded from the brilliant scholars who have shared their work and their resources with us.   I want to keep expanding my ability to read harder texts and hopefully develop a better internal filing cabinet so that I can actually retrieve all of this wonderful knowledge, especially when it comes time to share it in some way.

My social consciousness has been raised.  I don’t think I ever heard of ethical eating before I came here.  There are so many little farms around here with happy little chickens laying eggs and farm animals grazing in pastures, that I have totally changed the way I eat and shopped for food to avoid supporting those horrible factory farming situations whenever I can.

I have been filled up by my Bible study group at Emerald Pond.  These are beautiful people who will live in my heart.

I’ve learned the value of centering prayer, taking time every day to be quiet and to let God fill me up with whatever I need.

I have a beautiful, exciting, and adventurous summer, which I will write about in another post.  But for now, chapter one has ended and I am completely exhausted.  Year one of Divinity school is finished.

I can’t wait to see what happens in chapter two.

So, here it is reading week – an entire week devoted solely to studying for exams, writing papers, and of course, taking care of my dog Gracie.  I relaxed over the weekend, thinking that when Monday morning rolled around, I would be ready to knock out all of my work.

Monday’s plan was to go to the library for a few hours, then to a yoga class, then back home to write my Greek project. At the library I realized that either being an introvert, or trying to work with my Greek teacher at the next table, or just some type of library phobia – I can’t work at the library.  So, my wonderful friend Sarah showed me how to scan things so that I could work at home. I missed the yoga class and it was cold outside (lame excuse) so I went home, started reading, and took a nap.  I was okay with that, after all it was just Monday and I must have needed the sleep.

Tuesday. A massive caffeine induced burst of energy to start the day got me through a few hours of Greek translating and reading for a book review on the Africana Bible. Then Gracie got antsy and bored, so we hit Starbucks (for more caffeine), the bank, and got some errands done.  Then it was back home, trying to work on the Greek project and the Africana Bible paper. Another nap.

So here it is Tuesday night. The Greek project isn’t done, the book review has only a couple of pages written and I haven’t started studying for the two exams I have next week.  Why is it that the all consuming, absorbed-in-the-work level of focus only seems to come the night before something is due?  Even when time is allocated and I have the best intentions and a strong interest in the material, why is it such an uphill climb?  Looking at my friends’ Facebook comments (which I have done a ridiculous number of times) it seems like I am not the only one struggling to focus here.

So, here is my theory. What we call procrastination is actually percolation.  Sometimes things have to marinate a little before they are really ready.  Kind of like fruit ripening.  You don’t want to pick it too early, you want to wait until it ripens to its full sweetness.

Of course, the other part of this is that it is hard. For me, brain cells that are used to watching Jon Stewart and reading fluffy little books are being asked not only read difficult material this year, but to critically engage in it, beyond just a simple summary or surface level of contact, write concise, thesis driven papers that outline the main points, dig deep into the material, and are supported with solid arguments in a way that respects the author. I think the paralyzing anxiety comes from caring deeply about it and wanting to do the best work possible.

What I seem to forget every time that I am preparing for something big, is that I am not alone. The work always gets done and huge amounts of transformation continue to take place.  Transforming is never an easy process.  But I can realign my focus and trust in God to equip me with the tools, the drive, the strength, and yes, the discipline, to do the hard work of preparing to be a better disciple.

Besides, it’s only Tuesday!

When I talked to my Aunt Charlotte about it over Christmas break, being the brilliant lawyer that she is, she grilled me with a series of questions about this future church, which she lovingly named Piney Woods.  She, of course is the lawyer for me and my happiness and well being, not the lawyer for Piney Woods and its best interests.  She wondered what my life would be like, what the workload would consist of, and if I would suffer a lack of privacy or be at a church that was a harsh, judgmental community.  At the end of her visit, she pronounced her blessing on this idea and decided that, yes, it was time for me to be a student pastor.

Sanctuary at City Road United Methodist Church

Starting on July 1, I will be the pastor at City Road United Methodist Church in Henderson, North Carolina. This church has beautiful facilities with a beautiful sanctuary, a warm and inviting parlor, a huge fellowship hall and kitchen – which also has attached to it a “men’s kitchen” where they make stew and store grills, several Sunday school rooms, a nursery, and an office.

The Parlor

Fellowship Hall

This Sunday school room has "Godly Play" written all over it !!

My office

Henderson is adorable

The people I met from the church are just lovely.  They are warm and welcoming, and have dedicated their lives to this community.  I am greatly looking forward to my walk with them. The District Superintendent that I will be working with is a wonderful woman who has been on the staff at Duke this year, whom I feel very close to.

The parsonage is a huge 4 bedroom furnished house with a formal living room, family room, dining room, sunroom, office, eat in kitchen, two car garage, and big backyard. Gracie can have her own room!  Kerr Lake is a beautiful recreation area fairly close by and I see some type of boat in my future.  Consider this an open invitation to family, friends, classmates, to come visit me for the weekend, or as long as you want to stay! The District Superintendent joked that I could open up my own bed and breakfast.

Once again, God’s plans are much bigger than anything I can plan.  I ask you all to pray for me and my new church community as we set out on a journey to discern God’s plan for our work and ministry together.

I just spent a wonderful weekend with a really great guy. We went out to a film festival and dinner, talked about all of the world’s problems over coffee in the morning, made dinner together the next night, and saw some of the beautiful sights of Durham. It was a delightful weekend.  Don’t be shocked, though, it’s not what you think.

We usually think of a “no strings attached” relationship as one of sex with no expectations.  But what if that was reversed and it was just a nice time with another human being without any expectation of sex or romance? What if we could spend time with someone without wondering where it was going, if he would call, or searching every conversation to determine whether or not he was “the one.” What if we were free, no strings attached, to simply enjoy the company of another human being, male or female, for a few days?

This is the joy of being part of the couch surfing community. The way it works, is that you join this online community – couch surfing.org and share a little bit about yourself and your ability to host – whether you have a couch available for travelers coming to your town or if you would rather just get together for coffee. If you are looking for a place to stay, you read the profiles of the people who live in the city of your travel destination, then send a couch request to someone that you choose based on their profile. Hosts can accept or reject any of the requests they get.  There is also a place to leave references for the couch surfer and the host, so you can see what kind of a guest or host the person is and what others have said about them.

I signed up on the site in 2010 when I had that exciting summer of travel, but I couldn’t get anyone to host me, maybe because I didn’t have any references or maybe I just seemed scary.  After all, I am outspoken about my faith – who wants a religious nut on their couch?!  When I got back home, I hosted some wonderful people – a nice young man from Germany who came and helped my church choir with their German pronunciation, a really sweet young couple from Australia, and two girls from Italy who were stranded in Orlando without a place to stay.

I have found the people in the couch surfing community to be just wonderful.  They are open and trusting, love to travel, and love to meet other people. I am hoping to break out of my role as a host and be a guest in my upcoming travels this summer.  Yes, I’ve seen the movie Taken and know that it is risky to invite strangers into my home and to stay in the homes of strangers.  But, it’s also risky to go to school, or walk in a gated community, or live anywhere that has weather.  If something happens, at least it would be in the act of being in community with others.

Stay tuned for more Couch Surfing adventures, and if you’re ever  in Durham…

It started with the opening hymn, Christ the Lord Is Risen Today, a hymn that I have sung almost every Easter for as long as I can remember.  The 3rd verse, when the sopranos did a high descant and the brass came in, the waterworks started; tears of joy in being moved by the music. But, then they didn’t stop.  Oh how I wish I could be a pretty crier.   It took a moment to figure out what the heck was wrong with me – then BAM – I pictured me and my sister as little girls dressed up in our fancy Easter dresses and white gloves and I realized, this is the first Easter without my mom. We had a long history of Easter Sundays together from childhood Easters at our church in Kentucky, then the sunrise service on the beach in Cocoa Beach.  Even when I was on the road, if I was home for Easter, we would go to church together.  When I became the choir director at my church, mom never missed an Easter cantata that we usually performed on Palm Sunday.  She loved to hear the organist – on any Sunday – but especially on Easter.

I was looking through my saved email – a file I usually forget about – on Friday and found an email from my mom from 2005.  It’s the only one from her that I saved.  While a lot of times she was critical – true to her belief that loved ones provide “friction” for each other to make them better people – this one was different.  In it she says:

Thank you, thank you, Heather.  Your email was one of the most precious gifts I ever received   I was feeling refreshed when I woke, but you made my day.  You gave me the permission I need, but your affirmation of my caring over so many years touched me in a wonderful way…You are so stong, Heather.  I think I was for a time.  The physical impairments have made me vulnerable and aging certainly changes perspective.  I am wantinag to dance, to laugh more, worry less.  I hope your boundless energy does not diminish.  I envy your spiritual quest.  I admire your parenting.  No obstacles seem to weaken your resolve to live well each day.  Guess if I gave any advice, it wold be to stay in excellent health, continue your spiritual journey, keep your sanity, and don’t pass up opportunity to give a bit of yourself to others without losing your balance.  I am so proud of the adult you have become.  Love, Mom.

With all of this swirling in my head, Sam Wells, as usual, has a sermon that is right where I am titled,   “Why Are You Crying?”

We are supposed to be joyful on Easter.  I read somewhere this week that every day is Easter for Christians.  I think it’s truer that time is peppered with the cycle of Holy Week.  We have the triumphal entry of Palm Sunday, followed by the betrayal of Good Friday, the numbness of Holy Saturday (my mentor Steve Harper wrote about this in his blog Oboedire) and the joy of resurrection on Easter morning. While our personal life doesn’t always follow the liturgical calendar, it can be filled with hope, that even darkness doesn’t last forever and that joy and light is always just around the corner.

After the tears, I had the opportunity to walk in the woods with Grace and celebrate an Easter feast with one of my classmates and her wonderful family.  Her mom had the exact same experience during the exact same hymn and we shared how much we both missed our parents.  It turned out to be a beautiful day.

How can something like having a passionate life of faith go so wrong sometimes?

Our differences can enrich us, if we will quit trying to change each other and learn how to love each other. The time I felt most welcomed as a visitor was in a Jewish synagogue, when a member of the synagogue wrapped his prayer shawl over my shoulder and included me in prayer.  The time I have felt most moved by the liturgy was in a Catholic Mass, especially with the sensory experience of  incense, which I greatly enjoyed with a friend this week. I have felt the most  courage to lay down my worldly life for a life of following Jesus in a conservative, evangelical church. I have felt the most moved in spirit-filled expression in a black church setting.  While I have never experienced any kind of sacred Eastern religious service, I feel that there is sacred space in yoga class, recognized by saying “Namaste” which means “I bow to the divine in you.”

But where I have found my home is in the open hearts, open minds, and open doors of people  in my own church experience, who have seen the divine in me, looked past the rest, and loved me into transformation.

In my Christian faith, I believe that God is with us in the person of Jesus, who shows us how to love by healing and forgiving in many acts of unconditional love that free people from their sins to live in peace.  Jesus sees the worth in them and acknowledges it. When he says “go forth and sin no more” it’s not in a “straighten up and fly right” way, but instead a gift of freedom that shows them that they can live a full abundant life, instead of being bound by the sins of their past.  He shows us that we are to love and forgive each other, even if it kills us. His resurrection, that we joyfully celebrate tomorrow, shows us that whatever happens on earth, isn’t the final word. It shows us that God has a greater plan than what we can imagine or control.

Maybe one way of loving is recognizing the great potential for love in each other.  Maybe instead of focusing on converting people, we can simply acknowledge the divine in them and see what kind of transformation God will make through the act of love.