Some things I'll miss

Living in a place that feels so medieval (well, except for the cinder blocks in my apartment...).

The fireplace

The BookShelf.

Our super-duper retro clock (note the cautionary sign on top: "Electronically controlled time," ostensibly to warn that it may not be as reliable as say, your hand-wound pocket watch, back in the day.

The cloister.

I'll even miss Seabury's water damage.

I won't miss Trader Joe's. (My locker, there -- I quit three weeks ago.)

Ah, how medieval.

Sitting in the chapel stalls.

Our El stop -- Noyes.

The Central Street beach (that's my backpack).

And of course, the scary cupboard. (And what's inside.)

Ah... don't you just feel like you're in a fairy tale castle?

Lilith and I will miss the purple couch.

And the people:

We're so medieval. We just can't keep up with the 21st century. Crazy Christians.

Just like living in a castle... knights in armor and all.
Well, almost.

Packing

This the view from my windows at Seabury.

It's hard to know how to leave a place. Should I have had a big party? How do I say goodbye to everyone? I think I'm realizing I just can't -- there are too many people, too many feelings, and no way to acknowledge them all well. People leave, it's part of life, and I'm just too overwhelmed with all the logistical stuff I need to do to even know how to begin to approach it.

Guilt

One of my Seabury neighbors told me my "Generosity" post got him thinking... and feeling GUILTY!!! We laughed. But I got to thinking: guilt isn't from God (that's right, my Lutheran and Roman Catholic brothers and sisters...).

I think guilt might be from the devil, if you believe in that sort of thing.

Guilt makes us feel like we're "bad" people, that we've messed up, that we don't deserve love. I think God wants us to know that we have power, that we're loved, and that even though we've messed up something, we can start over, again and again.

We have power!!! Let's use it. To free up our own lives so we can feel God's love for us, and to to help other people have better lives and realize that God loves them, too. Guilt just mires us in uckiness.

(Hopefully I haven't made anyone feel guilty for feeling guilty, here.)

10 Random Things About Me

I haven't been tagged for a meme in a long time. (I don't even really know what "meme" means or how's it's pronounced -- meem?) I did a similar one to this last April: 6 weird things about me. But heck, there's plenty of weird, random stuff in my life to go around!

1. I used to be able to milk 42 goats in three hours (with an electronic milker!). This was a part-time job while I was the part-time pastor of the Monterey United Church of Christ in western Mass. Rawson Brook Farm still makes the best chevre I've ever had.

2. I don't like sweets very much. I'd rather eat lemon pepper fries, olives, or goat cheese than cookies, cake, or candy bars. I like a little fruit pie, maybe a brownie or tiramisu, sometimes.

3. I'm not very good at finishing books, especially nonfiction. I have like ten books I'm reading all over my apartment, mostly congregational development and new pastor sorts of books recently. I like stories better than information -- but I'm also picky about the kind of novels I read.

4. I should be packing right now, but instead I'm procrastinating with this stupid list. At least I've packed six boxes of books. And I have like fifty collapsed boxes outside my front door that various people have given me (see photo). Including one from my parents that says "Jon's clothes and diapers" from their last move, in 1982. Jon is now twenty-eight.

5. When I was in high school, I saved my babysitting money to buy art at the Hyde Park Art Fair two summers in a row. "Nerd Alert!" as my brother's girlfriend would say. I still have two pieces I bought.

6. I'd rather drink water at room temperature than cold or with ice in it.

7. My favorite season is winter, because everything is so quiet and still. And I like wearing sweaters and hats. Cozy.

8. I don't have an iPod. I can't decide if I would use it if I did -- I'm stuck in the 90s with my CDs.

9. I can't stay awake much past 10pm ... I just start to fall asleep. But I can wake up at 6am no problem. Although waking up when's it dark outside these days is hard.

10. I think Swiss Chard is pretty good.

Generosity

I've been thinking about generosity lately.

I don't have a lot of money right now. I haven't had much money for the past four+ years, while I've been a student. Now, I've stopped working, for my move and transition, and so I need to be even more careful. Probably many of you are in a similar position: we watch what we spend, we are afraid that there won't be enough, we worry about the future, we hold on to what we have.

"And can any of you by worrying add a single hour to your span of life?"

That's how my parents raised me: "we might not have enough!" One year, they gave each other new tires for Christmas. And sure, maybe there's nothing wrong with that. But what happens to the level of fear in our lives when we always worry we might "run out," of money or time or whatever? WE of all people, in the richest country in the world, with all our appliances, articles of clothing, choices of foods, and yes, we even have decent homeless shelters.

In this time where I feel especially pinched, I've been trying not to be anxious. I've been trying to believe that I have enough. Maybe even that I have more than enough. Even though I still only own one collar shirt. (Crazy, I know.)

"Is not life more than food, and the body more than clothing?"

As I anticipate having a salary again, I've been thinking more about generosity. I've been thinking about how to give away what I have -- money, talents, love, kindness, joy -- and not be scared about it. I've been thinking about tithing. I've been thinking about believing that there is enough for me to enjoy my life and for me to give away a chunk to help other people enjoy theirs, or even just survive.

But it's hard, because this belief that "There isn't enough" is so deep inside my head.

"Ask, and it will be given to you; search, and you will find; knock, and the door will be opened for you."

I'll let you know how it goes this year...

Anyone else tried tithing?

How to choose a professional portrait

Hmm... there's something so honest about this shot. The trials and confusions of the ministry are so evident in my face... but somehow I thought it wouldn't be quite the right one to use professionally. Although here I am, posting it on my blog for all the world to see.

So my boyfriend (that word always makes me feel like I'm in high school... oh well), Adam, is a great photographer and he's taken some good professional photos of me, but this actually isn't one of them. It was taken by a wonderful man at the parish where I've been deaconing; he was taking portraits of the whole parish for a photo directory. So, we were trying different poses until he finally said, "Just make a series of different expressions every three seconds, and I'll just keep shooting!" I was sort of paralyzed... expressions? What KIND of expressions??? I didn't know what to do, and this was one of the faces that came out.

But it's my favorite, obviously. Although this is the only place you're going to see it.

Bishop candidates

My week has been taken over by bishop candidates. A laywoman and I are taking turns "shepherding" Robert Koomson, or helping him navigate all the small group rooms and ins and outs of the "presentations" this week. These are forums at churches ALL over Chicago and northern Illinois that gives our eight (8!) candidates a chance to share their vision and answer lots of questions. Although I'm sure there is some element of a popularity contest here - who's wearing the sharpest outfit? who has the nicest haircut? who feels like my friend? who tells the funniest jokes? who is the priest I wish I could be or who I wish could be my parish priest? who makes the statement I want to make about our diocese and the church?

The question we should be asking is, of course: Who would be the best bishop for Chicago right now? Regardless of all those other factors, some of which actually are worth considering along the way, that is the question the Spirit wants to help us discern right now. Although I'm certainly not above getting lost in all those seventh-grade class-president type questions. I've been noticing haircuts and thinking about political statements more than I care to admit.

But how can we KNOW who would be the best bishop for Chicago? Well, we can read the diocesan profile. I was on the subcommittee that developed and wrote this evaluation of our diocese, its needs, its history, and its possibilities. I confess: it's kind of long (sorry about that!). But we tried to be honest and thorough.

In my own discernment, I'm thinking about how many churches we've closed in the past ten years, about the need for spreading the word about Jesus, getting publicity as the Episcopal Church, doing anti-racism work in our city, and spreading God's love as far around our churches as we can.

But I also like what the search committee offers on discernment (from the website):
"Prayerfully consider the ways in which each nominee might be called to be the bishop of Chicago." It's a good discipline to think about how EACH person might be called to be our bishop, even the candidates I'm not so sure about.

So, on Tuesday I drove across the city to Glen Ellyn. Tonight I'm driving across the city again to Palos Park. I'm crashing at my parents' house, and getting up early to cross the neighborhood to 63rd Street in Chicago. Then I'm deaconing at a friends' wedding! THEN I need to finish my sermon because I'm preaching Sunday morning. (My last Sunday at St. John's, where I've been serving as a deacon during my search process.) Then, after preaching at two services, I'm driving across the STATE to Dixon. Then I'm driving Robert home to Evanston. Then I am going to eat a mint-chocolate Haagan Dazs ice cream bar and fall asleep reading Kennon Callahan and/or Jane Austen.

Welcome

(Well, I think they like me.)

And welcome to all my new parishioners who may be reading my blog, now! More on "Heidi becoming a vicar" soon...

Foxes have holes, birds of the air have nests...

Here's the layout of my new apartment. I'm going to be paying too much for it, really. But I fell for the view of the forest preserve - out of the living and dining room windows, you see nothing but trees (and power lines, truthfully). It's right on a bike trail, even. So, I'm taking on a "luxury" apartment with a rent that *doesn't* include utilities, for a view of the forest preserve??? Is this really smart, Heidi?

But there's also an outdoor pool, washer/dryer, dishwasher, a balcony, and a kitchen that's BIG and open to the front room. (But alas, no fireplace, contrary to the floorplan). It's also close enough that I could bike to church if I wanted. I could probably even bike from the church to the local hospital, although it's still under construction.

So, I think I'm paying for an image, here. Bad bad bad. Very impractical. But I'm a sucker for metaphors - that's why I'm becoming a priest. Maybe paying for things that are beautiful can be worth it? I just hope I'm not going to be surprised by my heat bill! Then maybe the trees won't be quite so pretty.

Next problem: when am I going to move in? I have to balance all the things I need to bring to end here at Seabury - my freelance work, my packing, my goodbyes... and I need to say goodbye to two churches: St. John's, where I'm deaconing, and St. Paul and the Redeemer, that "done brung me up." And I really need to go back to Christ in the Wilderness (watch out for that cricket soundclip) and go sit in a hermitage for a while (see my last visit, in March), talk to God and the trees, and prepare myself.

I find myself obsessing about furniture quite a bit. I keep thinking about where I'm going to put things, how I'm going to fit everything in 884 sq. feet... This is actually bigger than my Seabury apartment but the new place has more windows and less wall space for things like bookcases, of which I have four:
I will probably keep a bunch of books in my office. But I also have this Norwegian cupboard/bookshelf, that was my grandmother's:
And I actually imagined that I might get a place big enough that I could finally have my childhood piano with me. Maybe next time.

Besides, small places are cozier, more energy-efficient, and keep you from buying furniture and other stuff that you probably don't need anyway. And a view of the forest preserve and the sky? Worth it. (I hope so, anyway!)

Whoops

Hmm. My parish doesn't know that I've been called to be their vicar yet. Whoops!

So, just in case, don't say too much quite yet. We're talking about the contract this week.

I can't believe I'm going to be moving. And becoming a pastor... it's been such a long time coming. Seven years since I started at the Monterey Church.

My internet has been down, so I haven't been able to blog much lately! More soon.

The Vicar of Bolingbrook

That's me!!! I HAVE A JOB!!!

I had a wonderful interview last night... spent about half an hour in the IKEA parking lot (I stopped there first, to pick up a lampshade), going over my sermon and the interview questions, and then it was just a comfortable evening with the search committee. I was exhausted by the end though - three and half hours is a long time to keep talking.

And they called me a couple of hours ago to offer me the call! And they want me to start "tomorrow"! But, of course, it will probably be more like a month or so.

Here it is: St. Benedict's. (I can't even believe it's called St. Benedict's. I LOVE Benedict and monasteries and...!)

Thanks for waiting through all these stressful months with me. I can't believe it. I'm both excited and so content and peaceful.

In the meanwhile, some lasagna, red wine, and a few more weeks at Trader Joe's.

Second interview

I have a second interview with Small Church in the Southwest Suburbs on Wednesday night. I'm pretty smitten with them. They're about 40 people on a Sunday, they just built a new building a few years ago with a circular sanctuary (their first church building was two geodesic domes!), and they have a lot of energy.

They've asked me to prepare an evening prayer service with a homily and a "freestyle" component where I can do a bible study, a presentation, or a workshop of some sort (I'm going to do my "How to Love Paul" workshop from two years ago), and they have twelve questions for me to prepare to discuss with them. Phew! I feel like I could write a 12 page paper on each of these questions... but I think I'm going to try three sentences as a start.

1. What restored your interest and confidence in returning to a pastoral setting?

2. Describe the general outline of how you would put together a community outreach program centered on parental training for the community. There is no right or wrong answer here; we are more interested in the process.

3. As vicar, how will you determine your priorities as you schedule your time?

4. What are your thoughts about moving to this area?

5. Give us an example of how you’ve approached teaching a new idea or skill to a group or to an individual.

6. What is your approach to liturgical planning?

7. In our first visit, you said that you had a great interest in communities and how groups of people work together and were curious as to why they come together. How do you plan to put that interest and curiosity into action as a parish priest?

8. Describe how you see your role as a liturgical leader.

9. How will you facilitate planning, doing, and reviewing in the culture of our church?

10. What kinds of pastoral care can a parishioner expect from you?
    

11. What spiritual practices are you eager to model and teach at (Small Church)?

12. We are eager to build our Christian education program for the children of (Small Church). What are your ideas for doing that while making worship relevant to children?

It's a long drive down that way, and I have to work at 6am the next day at Trader Joe's, but God is good and I'm sure I'll make it through. I just hope the digital projector hook-up to my laptop works - it seems like there's always some drama in getting those things to work.

Lilith in the Hall

My cat has been curious about my apartment's hallway and stairwell for months, and I've started letting her go out to explore now and then.

She meows and runs around - maybe looking for other cats? "I'm here, I'm harmless, please don't hurt me!" Then she lies down and rolls on her back... savoring her freedom? Although it's one of her favorite things to do inside the apartment, too.


It must seem like a whole other world to her. The Hallway. And who even knows what's Down the Stairs???

Trader Joe's

These are three of my Trader Joe's shirts! And my name tag.

I'm completely exhausted. The first two days, I was so tired I just dissolved into tears at the end of the day. This kind of physical work just brings all the other hard things in my life so much closer to the surface! It's a lot of lifting and standing, but then it's also getting to know a bunch of new people, a new place. a new set of rules, and of course, where the chili lime chicken burgers are.

I think I like it. Although each of these past four days there've been moments where I've thought suddenly to myself both, "I hate it here" and "you know, I really like it here."

I love working the register: I love chatting with people, I love scanning items through the machine, and I love bagging things. One woman says, "Bagging is like playing Tetris!"

But I sprained (I think) my hand my first day. There's this hard lump on the back of my hand, and when I grasp or grab things, it hurts like hell. The management and I are going to keep an eye on it, and if it doesn't clear up by the end of next week, I think I get some kind of worker's comp thing. I've been wearing a wrist guard, which helps me use my hand more carefully, although it's really more for your WRIST and it's the back of my hand - those fine bones and muscles - that are killing me.


I've now worked two 5am-1pm shifts, which are actually good for me. It's sort of spooky and mysterious to get up at 4am and drive to work by the light of the moon (there's a big star underneath the moon right now - Venus? - which looks like the Muslim moon and star symbol - is that because it's Ramadan right now? Does anyone know? Or am I just nuts?). We stock the shelves with the perishable items and wash the floors before customers arrive at 9am. Then I'm off at 1pm. Works for me.

More on TJ's later... there's a lot I could say.

10 Ways to Pass a Hot Potato

This is from an Episcopal GenX clergy listserv I'm on (you should join!), and since I'm looking at the very real possibility of working as a leader in a church (read: someone who gets all kind of mud and triangulation slung at them), I thought this was a great idea.

A friend of mine recently had a problem with #8, which I think is an especially helpful rule. She finally tore up that silly anonymous note while we were on the phone together, and I was SO proud of her!

The new, Gen X bishop of Olympia, Gregory Rickel sent these "10 Rules for Respect" out to the congregations of that diocese. They're great rules for any community, but especially churches and church organizations, since we tend to assume that everyone is going to be nice all the time, which just isn't possible. Especially to bishops. Or to Executive Presbyters, for that matter. Or to whoever the leader of your particular organization might be. People tend to pass anxiety around like a hot potato, in ways that often have nothing to do with where the real anxiety is coming from. Some of my favorite books on this:

The Anxious Organization, Jeffrey A. Miller
Generation to Generation, Edwin Friedman (or anything by Friedman)
and books by the famous Kennon Callahan, of which I should read more. ANYWAY...

Here's Bishop Greg:

"In every Letter of Agreement I have had with congregations, and now with the Diocese of Olympia I have asked that the "Rules for Respect" spelled out below be made part of the agreement. I first saw these in an article by Church of the Nazarene pastor Charles Christian. I think they are quite helpful in framing our communication and life together. I vow to do my best to follow them and invite you to do the same. We will all fail, but through gentle challenge and loving encouragement these can become a foundation for healthy communication for us all. Blessings to you! Greg"

10 Rules for Respect

1. If you have a problem with me, come to me (privately).

2. If I have a problem with you, I will come to you (privately).

3. If someone has a problem with me and comes to you, send them to me. (I'll do the same for you)

4. If someone consistently will not come to me, say, "Let's go to Greg together. I am sure he will see us about this." (I will do the same for you.)

5. Be careful how you interpret me-I'd rather do that. On matters that are unclear, do not feel pressured to interpret my feelings or thoughts. It is easy to misinterpret intentions.

6. I will be careful how I interpret you.

7. If it's confidential, don't tell. If you or anyone comes to me in confidence, I won't tell unless a) the person is going to harm himself/herself, b) the person is going to physically harm someone else, c) a child has been physically or sexually abused. I expect the same from you.

8. I do not read unsigned letters or notes.

9. I do not manipulate; I will not be manipulated; do not let others manipulate you. Do not let others manipulate me through you. I will not preach "at you." I will leave conviction to the Holy Spirit (she does it better anyway!)

10. When in doubt, just say it. The only dumb questions are those that don't get asked. Our relationships with one another, at the end of the day, are the most important things so if you have a concern, pray, and then (if led) speak up. If I can answer it without misrepresenting something, someone, or breaking a confidence, I will.

I'm not worried about the Anglican Communion

This is the best response to the recent House of Bishop's statement on gay bishops and same-sex blessings I've seen so far...

from the rector's husband at St. John's, Mt. Pleasant, Michigan

Behold, I am doing a new thing

I got the job at Trader Joe's! It was pretty easy - they're looking for chatty, sociable people to make for an upbeat shopping "adventure." I guess I qualify. I start Tuesday, with three hours of reading to learn about the history and philosophy of the chain. That's cool by me. I'm just so glad to have steady dependable work... which, if I stay 90 days, turns into PPO health insurance with dental!

The funny thing is, just on Tuesday I had a fantastic interview with a small church in the far southwest suburbs. I LOVED these people. They're looking to grow, they have a new building with a circular sanctuary, and they have a lot of energy. It's even a diverse area - I saw African American, Latino, and white students in nearly equal numbers pouring out of the elementary school down the street. It's all malls down there, but you know what, the suburbs aren't all that bad... I could see myself living there. We'll see.

The new keys

Since I've lost my big ring of keys - complete with grocery store "discount" tags, my beach pass, and a Wooster keychain - I've decided to decrease my future key-loss risk. Now, my house and school keys are on one ring (with the whistle, for some reason), my car key stands alone (with a cross to watch over me or something), and the laundry room key has joined my storeroom padlock key and my (nonfunctional) mailbox key on the ugly old blue plastic Seabury tag. I only had one bike lock key, and so now my (somewhat crappy) bike is stuck with its U-lock until I find a bolt cutter or just donate it somewhere and let someone else deal with the problem.

I like this new key system, though: my keys are so much lighter! They don't clunk into everything. I feel freer, and less like a jailer. Of course, this means if I decide I need to get into my car and I've left my car key upstairs, I have to walk up and get it. And it may also mean that I have more sets of keys to misplace. Hmm. Oh well, I'm going to enjoy the illusion of a problem solved for now

By the way, I went ahead and applied with Trader Joe's! I thought it might be best to leave the "Reverend" off the application. And I have an interview on Thursday morning, so we'll see how that goes. I'm a little unnerved about the idea of getting up in the morning for a 5am shift 20 minutes away... but I do always tell people that I'm a morning person.

The gate is narrow

My accreditation hours have been cut. I knew this was coming, but it's still sort of rough. I already felt like I was scraping by! So I have to scramble for more work.

My new plan is to apply for a job at Trader Joe's - my close friend's husband works there, and I'm just w a i t i n g for him to call me back. Steady work, health insurance, 10% discount - could it get much better? Maybe this will be a blessing in disguise. But I shouldn't count my chickens... even if they're free-range and 10% off.

I'm also talking to another professor about helping her with her research... only a couple hours a week, but every little bit helps. And I would get to learn a little about Julian of Norwich.

Geez, this is stressful, though. I know it will be fine, but my rent has gone up, I have no idea when I might get hired, and I really need a new keychain. (Life is hard.) Anyone got any keychains they've been meaning to get rid of? (Hopefully I won't get inundated, here.)

Ok, I'm going to go to Eucharist. Probably some part of it will make me cry, but you know what, that's what God is for, right?

Oh no, not the liturgy switch!!!

So, most of the time I've lived at Seabury I've thought this was a pretty funny sight (sorry it's so blurry!). Right next to our professor of liturgics' office is this SWITCH! With a RED LIGHT! When I first got here, I had no clue what it was for. Did Ruth's office used to be a darkroom? Did the switch activate some emergency liturgical process? What on earth...?

Then one day I had to get something out of the attic, right up the stairs from Ruth's office. And the Adminstrative Person with keys flipped this switch before we walked up there. It turns the lights on in the attic.

I must say, I was pretty disappointed. Still am.

He will come like a thief in the night

I still haven't found either the keys or the checkbook (with debit card). I've pretty much made peace with the likelihood that both are gone. No one turned the keys in to our receptionist yesterday, and I retraced our walk to the gelato place, asked in the stores along the way, and looked again around my friends' apartment and their backyard. I posted something on Craig's List, and I'm thinking about calling Northwestern's lost and found.

I have a new set of Seabury keys now. When Wolf, our maintenance guy, gave them to me, he was kind enough to remind me: "These cost $10 a piece!" Thanks.

I've also combed my apartment and car, looking for my checkbook. Nothing. So, I froze my checking account, which I'm going to have to wait until Saturday to "unfreeze," because I'm going to have to go to Hyde Park Bank and meet with the customer service officer in person. So, this week, I simply have no access to money! Sort of strange. See, I was out of cash on Sunday; all I have are my laundry quarters and $2.52 in change in my wallet. I have my credit card for emergencies and maybe for gas, but otherwise, I'm not going to spend any money until Saturday... that might be sort of interesting.

But this really WEIRD thing happened last night. I've been mildly paranoid about someone letting themselves into my apartment, because our keys have the apartment number stamped on them. So, last night, I slept with my laptop and cell phone in my bedroom; f0r some reason, I thought this was a good safety measure. Then I woke up at 3am after a bad dream: I was sleeping in a mini-trailer in the middle of downtown somewhere, when some mean little kid started looking in through the windows at me. He made his way around the trailer to its little door, and he opened it... and I tried to wake up, tried to yell, to make him go away - and I finally woke myself up.

And I noticed a light on in my hallway. I thought, "Oh, I must've left the living room light on. Oh well." And I fell back asleep, a little shaky.

I woke up this morning and on my way to the bathroom, I noticed the front door of my apartment was open. Just WIDE open. The lights in my living room weren't on, that was the light from the hallway outside! Eek. But nothing had been taken, at least so far as I can tell. And there were no signs of a mean little kid anywhere.

I do remember that I didn't lock the front door last night, so probably the wind had blown it open or something. It's happened before, during the day. But it's just a little freaky.

Maybe the Holy Spirit pushed the door open, just to prove to me that I was safe, even sleeping all night with my front door wide open. I hope so.

Lost Things

This morning in church, we read the lectionary story about the shepherd who leave his 99 sheep to go looking for the 1 lost sheep. And the woman who cleans out her whole house, looking for 1 lost coin.

Today, I realized I've lost both my checkbook, which has my ATM card tucked in it, and my house keys. Horrid. I regret to say that I have not left everything to search high and low for them. I realized the checkbook was gone on my way to get gelato with my neighbors Brad and Katie and their kids, and I guess spending time with them was more important than finding the checkbook and ATM card right at that moment. They're not in any of my purses or backpack, not on any tables, not in coat pockets, not in the car... And then I discovered my keys were gone, when I left their apartment, later tonight. Brad and I looked in the backyard with a flashlight, where I'd been waiting for them earlier, but there was nothing. ARGH. Our security point-person, Laurel, was home, and kindly walked home with me and let me in all the doors.

Ironically, I'd unlocked my car on the way over, to see if my checkbook was in there somewhere. So I know I used my keys then.

I'm just devastated - and worred. Bleh. I hate losing things, especially things I urgently NEED. I can't get into the accreditation office to start work in the morning without a key. I really hope my checkbook isn't floating out there and some random person is writing checks for pizza and a stereo system or something.

Maybe I should drop everything and look though the yard again. But then I couldn't get back inside my apartment without knocking on Laurel's door again. Maybe I should turn my house upside down looking for the checkbook. But I'm just so exhausted. Forgive me, Good Shepherd. I'm glad you're better at looking for lost people than I am for lost items.

Paper work

Ellen's father says, "If you want something done right, forget it." (She's the professor I'm working with on Seabury's accreditation process.) This pretty much sums up our accreditation work lately. What a morass. But it's coming together somehow.

Our world seems to exist mostly on paper, I've noticed. Or online. That's where we look to sort of prove that things exist, anyway.

I feel a little bit like I'm working at the law firm again, as I've mentioned before. I'm developing a friendship of circumstance with the copy machines. I have paper cuts. I have strong feelings about the kind of paper clips, binder clips, and file folders I want to use. I notice the aesthetics of reports, tables, headers and footers.

Maybe I'll post some photos of the copy machines.

Two more job possibilities

Hooray!

While I was downtown yesterday for "Fresh Start," a new clergy gathering and workshop, I found out about two more possible jobs. One is another assistant position and the other is a full-time solo position. Both are in the western suburbs.

Very exciting. I'm relieved to have more places to put my anticipatory energy than just St. X, (a neighbor of mine, who is also applying there, just received an email from the rector, who reported that they are still reviewing applications and listening for the Spirit). I probably should've worked harder to expand my search a few weeks ago, but better late than never.

I'm very intrigued by the possibility of working on my own again. Maybe this time for more than twelve people (although I really loved those twelve people). I just think there's something powerful in churches with less than 100 members, a "something" than can grow into something more. I've heard too many clergy disparage small churches, say they're "dying" and blame them for all their problems, rather than look for ways to help them become something more. Seems like a kind of "sizism" to me. Jesus didn't have a problem with his twelve people. As one priest pointed out at the new clergy day, Jesus berated the crowds that followed him rather than encourage them to fill out new member cards.

I could rant some more, but I will stop.

I hate, I despise your chapels?

Amos 5:21, "I hate, I despise your festivals, and I take no delight in your solemn assemblies."

So, a swath of chapel plaster fell off the wall over the weekend. We're now worshipping in Seabury Lounge - our common room, just in case more starts to fall down. Perhaps God was commenting on our liturgical sensibilities? On our Episcopal devotion to common worship? Hard to say.

The funny thing is that workers just finished tuckpointing and sealing the steeple, and it was AFTER that that a chunk of wall tumbled down. Right onto the pew where the evening or morning prayer officiant usually sits.

Sorry! It was dark in there, and my flash wasn't doing the trick, so these are kind of blurry. But we've definitely had some excitement with the start of the year with this infrastructure collapse!

Just call me tuna casserole, with potato chips

My friend Court yesterday said to me, "Heidi, you're not a leftover casserole, but if you were, you'd be tuna noodle, because it's the best." That was so nice! And LittleMary reminded me that sometimes leftovers taste the best, especially with cheese and tortilla chips. So, ok - maybe I just need to tell the story a little differently, here.

More than a few people here stopped me yesterday to tell me how glad they were to see me still around. They said they hoped I would find a job, but it was nice to have me here. No one said, "What are YOU still doing here???"

And you know, I still haven't heard from St. X. And maybe they'll call, and maybe they won't. Maybe they'll hire someone else. Or maybe another job will open up. Maybe not. But maybe I can make a ministry and a worthwhile year for myself with what's around me here. Honestly, I'd rather do that than force myself into a parish job, just for the sake of having one.

My friend Jim wondered if, deep down, I wasn't feeling drawn to parish ministry, period. That's an interesting question - I'm not sure. It may be a matter of finding the right parish. Or maybe he's right, and I've been looking at the wrong jobs for the last nine months. Sometimes I'm not good at sorting out what I OUGHT to do and what I WANT to do. But I'm not ready to say that I don't really want to do parish ministry, yet. There's still something about it that draws me - but I'm not sure what it is. Something to pray about.

The view from here?

The steeple has been under construction. They've been tuckpointing, so the whole thing doesn't come tumbling down. Bits of stone dust have been sprinkling down into the chapel for years, now - some bits are more like pebbles than dust, actually. We weren't ringing the chapel bells last week, because they would probably knock that little guy up there right down into the garth. I would listen to the workers from my cubicle window: lots of annoying drill noises and every now and then some Polish.


Here's a view of one of the boxes of accreditation materials I've been helping to put together.

So, I'm bored.

Classes start at Seabury today. And I'm feeling a bit like a leftover casserole, here. I'm trying to pray about it, but mostly I would like my life to move on. I'd like to have work that uses more of these skills I've been honing for the last four years. But it's just not going to be that way for a while yet, so I have to find a way to get used to it. But it's kind of boring. I can't go to classes (I could ask, but I'm pretty sure the answer would be "no."), I can't participate in school leadership, and I can't even go to lunch without paying $8. You know, my daily life hasn't changed much in the past three months - I'm living in my own version of Endless Summer. Endless Summer until Halloween? Thanksgiving? Christmas? Beyond...? (Eek.)

Hmm. I just remembered that I had a dream last night that it was snowing. Weird. Hard - blowing big thick flakes. I hope that's a good sign.

I'll try to think of other things to cheer myself up.

Overheard

This from a blog I happened upon called "Overheard Lines." Made family-friendly.


Guy 1: "That's a big f*ing church."

Guy 2: "God's a big f*ing guy."

A Bishop for Chicago, 2

I didn't say anything about something, and all the news outlets haven't really mentioned anything else. So, I don't want to seem as though I'm avoiding it. Yes, we have a nominee who is living in a same-sex relationship. And I wish we didn't have to live in a world where that was what made CNN, or upset people who don't know her. Because she's also a phenomenal priest and dean. And a faithful, devoted Christian. And not the only nominee for the next Bishop of Chicago.

A Bishop for Chicago

So, the labor of over a year's work is almost coming to fruition! I've had the privilege of serving on our diocese's bishop search committee, and we've finally announced the slate of nominees we've been working to discern for the past six months. It's an exciting list! Three women, two men, and all have substantial experience in anti-racism work, which I'm excited about especially. We elect a new bishop on November 10... all the nominees come to visit the diocese during the week of Oct. 21.

The five Bishop Nominees, here.

In the Episcopal Church, a bishop isn't just your boss, as a priest or a layperson. In fact, they're not really your boss at all - a bishop can't tell a rector (the priest of a parish) what to do, unless you're breaking liturgical rubrics (not following the Book of Common Prayer). And the only person who can bar someone from communion (which pretty much never happens) is a rector. Bishops do a lot of administrative stuff, they ordain new deacons and priests, they do confirmations, they meet in the House of Bishops and discuss theological and ecclesiological problems, theoretical and concrete, and they're our spiritual figurehead. Maybe like Queen Elizabeth II, but with a little more power and a little less bling. They do have to retire at 72, though.

So, electing a new bishop is like getting a new lease on your Church's vision and potential! It's exciting. And the Episcopal Church USA is one of the few Anglican Churches that elects their bishops, democratically. Most others are appointed - like in England, Parliament and the Queen choose bishops. I like our process better, although there's no campaigning allowed, no speeches, no receptions, meet-and-greets, fundraisers, or direct mail campaigns. We try to keep things clean and simple. It's supposed to be a discernment, rather than an election, really.

The Via Negativa?

This from the BBC:

Astronomers have found an enormous void in space that measures nearly a billion light-years across. It is empty of both normal matter - such as galaxies and stars - and the mysterious "dark matter" that cannot be seen directly with telescopes.

Now, that's BIIIIIIG empty space. As one of the scientists says,
"If you were to travel at the speed of light, it would take you several years to get to the nearest stars in our own Milky Way galaxy; but if you were to go to this hole and enter one side, you'd have to travel for a billion years before you would get to the other side," he told BBC News.

This completely weirds me out. A huge hole in the universe? It just begs for theological interpretation. Like, you know, God wanted some flex space - sort of a Zen thing, perhaps. You know, it opens up the place. Nice for meditation. Or you never when you might want to add on - an extra cosmic bedroom or den. But imagine: what if the absolute biggest room in your house was just EMPTY? Kind of cool, I think. Although I'm sure, if it were me, I would quickly start dumping stuff in there. But God is probably a better steward than me.

I'm sure it's scientifically strange for there to be a pocket of the universe with so much nothing in it. Theologically, it doesn't seem so odd to me. God likes surprises - just read the Bible, and blesses Nothings as well as all of us Somethings.

Anyone got anyone interesting Scripture passages that might speak to some Nothing out there?

Almighty Power

You may have heard on the news that Chicago had a gigantic thunderstorm yesterday. 70-80 mph winds, apparently. I was working in my cubicle, when the lights flashed once, then went dead. My computer blinked out, too, of course. So I wandered out into the hallway where I found the music professor and the registrar, and we looked out the hall windows at the ongoing deluge. Then the lights flicked back on for about five seconds, and then there was a huge FLASH in the street - a transformer exploding, as it turns out, and everything went dead again. Then Wolf, our wirey and wise maintenance man, came tearing through and yelled at us to GO TO THE BASEMENT because a tornado had been sighted. So, with my yellow legal pad still in hand, I went down to the basement with everyone else. We all went to the laundry room (which is for students who live in the seminary dorm rooms) and stood around the washing machines, listening to WGN on one of those mini-boomboxes, which I think were in vogue in perhaps the early 90s. WGN went back and forth from the Cubs game (in California, I think?) to the tornado and weather updates.

Eventually, we could go upstairs. But there was no going back to work - no computers, no lights, no copier. So I went home. Dug out my candles and matches so I would be ready when the sun went down. And finished a novel sitting next to the window.

Now, going to bed with a candle is kind of romantic. Even fumbling up and down our pitch-black, windowless stairwells wasn't too bad. Since our stoves are electric, my neighbors and I went out for pizza - while the weather still resembled a monsoon - and when we came home - to an apartment building whose windows were only ever-so-faintly glowing from the odd candle here and there - they lent me a flashlight to get back upstairs and find my keyhole. All that was kind of fun. But then in the morning, there was no hot water to shower, wash dishes, or wash my face, no stove to heat water, no radio for NPR, no microwave, the refrigerator was starting to warm up, my cell phone was running out of power and so was my laptop... and I couldn't really go to work to earn money for my poor little unemployed self because I need a computer to do most or any of my work, there.

It's amazing how a minor crisis can introduce a general feeling of urgency and scarcity. I heard sirens on Sheridan Road last night - and there are ALWAYS sirens on Sheridan Road - but last night, they felt pretty unsettling to me. It seemed like the world might be unraveling at the edges in all kinds of places. What if this lasted a long time? Everyone was saying, "Well, replacing transformers takes a LONG time, blah blah blah." What if I had no hot water for three days? What if people starting looting? What if people were getting hurt out there because of... bad things???

I can only imagine what it must have been like to survive something like Hurricane Katrina, or the 2005 tsunami, or even the terrible flooding happening in other parts of the Midwest. I was so thankful to have a dry mattress, a working toilet, food, and a town full of stores that still had electricity, no problem. I bought ice and a cafe latte this morning! Woo hoo. And civil order seemed to be in place, just fine. But it was scary for a while.

Next, we just started trying to adapt and normalize the whole situation. We stood outside in the parking lot, joking about the noise the generator was making (Wolf was trying to keep the sump pumps going to drain the four inches of water out of the library stacks in the seminary basement - luckily, the books are a foot off the floor). We had a seminary community meeting with donuts, plenty of Bible jokes, and brainstorming and problem-solving. Our liturgy professor went to get out the candles from the sacristy for people who still needed them. And then my neighbor Jennifer and I packed ourselves up to go to a coffeeshop. We wanted to power our laptops and cell phones up - I was going to write my sermon for Sunday (which, ahem, I still haven't quite written yet) and Jennifer was going to rewrite her ordination service bulletin (her personal laptop and journal was stolen yesterday, and the only copy of her bulletin was on the laptop, and her ordination is in a week, but that's a whole other story).

And just as we were heading down into my pitch-black stairway... all the lights came back on! It was GREAT. It'll sound kind of trite or dramatic, but it was just such an amazing moment. Our lives could go back to normal. But you know, it was also a little anti-climactic. We'd gotten ourselves so psyched up to live with adversity, and then boom, it all dissolved with one banal, fluorescent poof.

But we decided to go out for lunch to celebrate, and stuffed ourselves with eggrolls, crab rangoon, chicken with peanut sauce, and Thai pork with noodles. It was pretty great. Then I worked for several hours. And now everything seems back to normal.

What a weird day.

Flowers at Seabury, a series

So, I wandered around the seminary parking lot and took pictures of all the flowers around here - I just LOVE pretty pictures. Total sucker for them. And pretty in the parking lot is even better - that contrast between beautiful living thing and slab of asphault. Love it. It just feels more like real life that way.

Lily of the Sidewalk

There's a petunia growing up at my apartment doorstep. I can't imagine that it just sprung up itself - someone must've planted it there, to see what would happen, maybe. But maybe petunia seeds really are that tough? Anyone out there with a horticulture background? So both Laurel and I took pictures... although you may notice that Laurel dramatized hers a bit more, since it was going to be a sermon illustration. I really like her angled shot with the parked cars in the background.

Here's the front step. With resident grill. There's a whole little row of green friends who have moved into the crack, there. This is my favorite little straggler:

I've always liked little green things that grow in strange places. Some trite symbol of hope or something, said the jaded seminary student. But in high school, I wrote a (terrible) poem about a little weed growing all by itself in a corner of a dark alley downtown. There is something so forsaken about those alleys - I still find myself stopping to stare into them and gawking at that empty, ugly, loneliness. Still the high school poem was dreadful, I'm sure - I have no idea what happened to it. I'm sure most high school kids feel like little weeds growing in forsaken alleyways. Hopefully my pictures aren't quite as cliche.

My cubicle

At first, it looks like a normal office. This is where I've spent about half my summer, sorting through charts, lists, and stacks of paper in order to make more charts, lists, and stacks of paper for the accreditation process at Seabury. Last week, I spend way too much time here, working out an especially tough set of tables. Sitting in that very chair. It got pretty old. How do people survive desk jobs?

And Ellen and I are still not exactly done (she's the professor who's in charge of this nightmare data-collection process). Maybe in a couple weeks? I'm just following her lead. There's something nice about having a job where you just do what you're told. Although I probably only say that because I know this is temporary. It's funny, this is sort of a variation of working at the law firm - a sort of reprise, five years later.

Here are the bank boxes where we put all of those finished charts, tables, lists, and stacks of paper. They're gold - the result of lots of searching and compiling. Sometimes I get the shivers because I imagine how awful it would be if I forgot to shut the windows before I left one night and it rained in and turned everything to pulp. But so far, so good.

This is how it's NOT like the law firm. My office is not just an office... it's actually the sitting room of a (now empty) dorm suite! So, if I needed to take a nap, I could just sneak in here. There's even a mirror in the sitting room, so when I'm worried about my hair or have some time to kill with my camera, I know where to look.

For those who are curious, I am still waiting for an interview at St. X. But the rector is coming back from vacation this week, so hopefully there will be some kind of development soon. As it is, I'm planning on hunkering down here at Seabury for the next couple months. New students are moving in and old ones are starting to come back, which is a strange feeling. I'm glad to see my old friends, but it's a little disorienting, since I hadn't exactly planned to still be here! I guess I'm not sure how I belong... although I'm sure I belong just because I am here.

Blue fountain

While I was at my family reunion, some cousins and aunts and I went on a shopping pilgrimage. One place had this awful fountain outside of it... with water dyed dark blue. My 14-yr old cousin, Hannah, and I were pretty grossed out. But I think the owners meant for the fountain to look beautiful.

The food in grocery stores is always perfect-looking - and you don't want to know what they have to do to make it all look that way. Why do we have to have everything look so excessively beautiful? Here are the tomatoes I picked yesterday from my Dad's garden (they away on vacation). They ain't pretty, but they taste amazing:

Maybe life is ugly, so we try to make as many other things beautiful as we can, and we shy away from the things that remind us that life is suffering, and that we're all going to decay and die. An ethics professor I had once said that people understood death much better before refrigeration. Maybe before we started living in the suburbs, too. Now we're sheltered from a lot of ordinary ugliness. Do we expect life to be the same way? Are we ruffled by ordinary ugliness, or the lack of perfect, unadulterated happiness in our lives? Do we get angry with ourselves because we don't have a life like a perfect tomato? Or a dyed blue fountain?

All I know is that I find that I can't stop thinking about how I'm going to spend the real paycheck I hope to be making sometime this year - on new clothes, a new car, a new cell phone, new housewares, new shoes... that will all make my life better. So there you go.

The boyfriend

So, I haven't been blogging much lately, and well, a big reason for that is named Adam. Just thought I'd post a photo of him to show him off to you guys. He's great - also a budding clergyperson, starting his second year at my alma mater, and currently hiking part of the Appalachian Trail.

Reunion and re-engagement

Here are a mess of photos to show you some of my family, and views of the beach cabin my parents have been renting for twenty-five years. I miss it there already. You can see the light from the sunset over the lake coming in through the windows.

It was a great week, although it's also tiring to hang out with twenty of your relatives for a whole week. But I got a lot of sun, swimming, good food, walking, and loafing in. But even so, I came home feeling sort of sad about my continued unemployment. It didn't help that I had to leave my cat with my parents in Michigan because my brother's car was overloaded on our trip back (my parents are staying on for another two weeks). So I'm home alone! No Lilith. It's very strange not to have a little cat following me around all the time, or waking me up at 6am for a back rub, or reminding me that her bowl is empty.

So, I was feeling sad and useless and lonely. But then I got a call from out junior warden at St. John's - the church where I'm deaconing to keep myself out of trouble this summer (near Irving Park and the Kennedy, if anyone wants to know). One of our elderly members died Friday night, and it looks like I might be doing the funeral, because Kara, the priest, is away on vacation. Wow. I suddenly feel very official. I'm going to give the family a call back tonight to see how they're doing. I feel so hungry to be helpful. Even if that means I get swamped this week - I'm preaching on Sunday, too, and I have a bishop's search committee meeting almost all day Saturday, and Adam is coming to visit. Suddenly, everything seems more like real life than a sabbatical. It's great. Things are MOVING.

I also had a long, great talk at church today with a woman who's elderly mom also died last week, and had a lot of other, really good conversations with various people. I felt like I knew what I was doing - during worship and during coffee hour. I felt a little like I used to feel on Sunday mornings at the Monterey Church, back when I was their lay pastor, six years ago.

It's nice to feel like a pastor again.