one year later...#meetmeatMVP

I've known this was an upcoming date on my TimeHope and Facebook history...the "one year ago" throwback from my last Sunday at Mount Vernon Place United Methodist Church in Washington, D.C. I greet this date with a lot of bittersweet sentiment. In my mind it is hard to believe that a whole year has passed since I walked into the door of MVP. Time is such a funny thing because while it feels just like yesterday, I also feel like it's been a lifetime since I was there.

My five months I was a part of the MVP congregation are such a treasured time in my memory bank and within my heart. Truthfully, that time became a sabbatical of sorts for me that God used to pull me into the full realization of my ministry call. There is also lessons from that time that I know I'll continuously use within my ministry career, regardless of where I am called, so I will constantly be returning within my mind to that time.

Yet I find myself reflecting on this day how not all that much has changed since that day one year ago, and yet so very much has. It has come to be that I am only continuously embracing who I truly am and am called (always have been) to be. Here I am one year later....

Working to complete the first stage of candidacy for ministry within the UMC. I've been on many retreats, have been assigned my mentorship group that's walking through this with me, spent time in prayer - journaling - and so much more in discernment, filled out paperwork, and found myself digging spiritually deeper within myself that I ever through possible.

And it's such a beautiful thing.

Yet one year ago I was also finding myself digging spiritually deeper within myself than I thought was possible, but the spirit had just finally pushed me to do just that - dig deep. I began a process at MVP of theological reflection, study, and witness that turned on a lifelong commitment to ministry that will never subside.

Currently I have found myself embracing the full identity of what aspect of ministry I am truly called to. A path that has taken me in one direction, around a loop and landed in a spot of peacefully acceptance that God is opening my heart/spirit to seek to become an Elder in the UMC.

This has been one of the biggest "a-ha" moments since my time of retreats in November. However, what has taken place is allowing myself the space to slow down and discern with listening ears rather than a talking mouth. A truth of seeking to become an Elder is an aspect of this that has always been presence, I just lacked the ear to listen. I rushed out of a time of sabbatical at MVP and jumped right back into my habit of control, and wanting to define my own story. I'm learning to slow down more and truthfully discern, and now God is working to reveal this plan rather than me trying to reveal it. It's a wonder I did not recognize the lesson of slowing down prior when God placed yet another remarkable clergywoman running a powerful church in my life during the spiritual sabbatical that was my months in DC. If I had listened well, I would have seen how God was using Donna's example, just as God had been using Kitty's example for two years prior, to see positive examples of the Elder I was also being called to one day become.

Currently I am working to figure out what's next.

A fact I won't reveal more on until the time is right other than to say that God is continuing to push me to reflect on those same lessons as I'm discerning what will take place after I graduate from Presbyterian College in May.

In this past year I've done a lot of morphing from one direction of my dreams for my future into God's dreams for my future. I am always saying that this direction of ministry is one that has always been present, it was just my stubborn self that was not fully listening. However, I also continue to say that I'm grateful for my reluctance to fully listen because that took me to DC. In DC God took me to MVP and allowed me to spend time with a congregation that would change my life. An encounter that would help me to fully recognize this ministry call in many real, and powerful ways that I will use always. As I reflect on this "one year later" mark, I am forever thankful that life took me to DC to be a part of something amazing, and meet wonderful people in my community of faith. I would never go back and change the course of events that led me to DC because my time there and most especially my time at MVP I wouldn't trade for the world.

I miss you all at MVP, dearly. Keep doing God's work as the hand and feet of Christ in D.C. You all are always in my thoughts and prayers.

I didn't have a "big" moment this weekend and that's okay.

My expectations for the weekend were these “big” moments of confirming, affirming, and maybe even a bit more clarity of my call. The truth is I walked away with none of that this weekend. There was no “big” powerful moment where I felt God lay upon my heart.

And I’ve come to the conclusion that that is okay because that’s not how my call is anyways.

Honestly, I shouldn’t have come into the weekend with those type of expectations because there has never been any lightning bolt moment the entire course of my call. All along my way I’ve experienced these small moments of peace whenever I’ve accepted truths of this call or had revealed another step/piece of this puzzle.

This weekend was no different and honestly I’m coming to understand that perhaps this is the greatest lesson I can take away from a weekend of discernment with so many other current or future leaders of The United Methodist Church. My moments of joy or peace or even slight frustration came to one conclusion: this church mouse likes the quiet moments better than any loud ones. And I experienced all these types of moments of quiet peace or "aha" times.

My prayers were for God to give me specific answers this weekend about my future and the intricate details of my call. The answer I received was a quiet understanding that I did not need bold moments because I already have more answers than I realized. Also, I know that it is not my job to know all the details yet. They will be known to me when the time is right, at different moments. Therefore, what I received was affirmation. Affirmation that I do feel called to seek to join the Order of Deacons within the UMC as an ordained clergywoman. While I also know that since I feel called into specialized ministry, it is women’s ministry that will be a long term focus on my future career and ministry. This concept of women’s studies through the lens of the female experience of life has long become a passion of mine. It has a been a blessing that I’ve had the chance to study it in depth in my undergraduate, and in a variety of ways as a Women and Gender’s studies minor. It wasn’t until I began taking my “Womanist, Feminist Theology and Pedagogy” class this Fall semester of senior year that God’s placed it on my heart to further my study of women, the church, and ministry into seminary as I most likely seek a Master's of Divinity somewhere yet to be determined. Continuing in this ordination process is also a confirmation from this weekend. Which is why I’m grateful or a support system that is helping my push through this process now.

There were dynamic speakers this weekend. Rev. Bridgette Young-Ross opened with the words of are we following our call according to how others are defining it for us, or for how God is defining it for us. It was these words that stopped my spirit because truthfully I’ve had a hard time swallowing that concept in the past year since fully recognizing this call.  Full individual ownership and defining details myself of this call. All those intimate details I won’t share with all here, but I will say that I realized this weekend that there is a lot of self-claiming I need to make better on with this call. I’ve also got to be ready to take steps forward in a bold faith, even if they scare me as I step into an unknown future I had no idea would be occurring when I got ready to graduate Presbyterian College.

Honestly, I expected to blog all the details of this weekend every night but too much has internally occurred spiritually. Therefore, I leave you with the simple statement that God moved in big ways this weekend while I had both past realizations affirmed and new dreams unfolded. May God be with me as I make decisions in the following months.

Thank you God for choosing me for this odd and wondrous calling.  

my church family and their role in this call

“How very Trinitarian.”

Those are the words from my pastor who is sitting across from me at the Staff Parish Relations Committee (SPRC) as we are all chatting before the meeting actually begins. Her words stick with me because they are true. She’s commenting on the fact that on the night that I meet before my church’s SPRC for the first time to share my call story and continue in this ordination process, it also is the third anniversary of the day I became a member of the church.

This church community.

As I’m writing this, I’m on my way down to Florida for the national EXPLORATION conference put on by the Board of Higher Education in Orlando. This will be a weekend long retreat of discernment with other future clergy or church leaders of the UMC. I’m also working through the Guidelines for Candidacy workbook because next weekend I have my retreat for candidacy with my district conference. The first weeks of November I’m realizing are full of nothing but ministry, discernment, and reflection on my own personal call.

One of the questions in this workbook I must reflect on is who my support system is in this ministry call. I cannot help but continue to keep return to the answer of Broad Street United Methodist Church and its people, pastor, and my peers in our Campus Ministry group “Rethink Fellowship” as such an important part of my overall support system. Not only do I have the blessing to be a part of this congregation as a college student, but they are also my church family that is walking me through the ordination process. I’ve always said I feel like I play a dual role with BSUMC because not only am I one of their “college student babies” but I am also a member of their congregation.

Truly I did not know the significance of what it would mean for my personal future to switch my membership from the home church I had grown up in to the church I had only been a part of for a month or so my freshmen year of college. Kitty said once in conversation with the two of us and other members that “Rebecca has been a member of Broad Street since day one”. Which I not only regard as a high compliment from their side but know is very accurate from my side, as well. I can still recall clearly my first Sunday at Broad Street.

And I’ve never looked back.

For going on four years now I have been actively a part of this congregation and they have been a special place of my life/heart/and unbeknownst to me a special formation for this ministry call. If I am completely honest, my ministry call began to speak louder in my heart long before I departed for D.C. (although I’ll always credit that time and the people of Mount Vernon Place UMC as the pivotal push to allow me to accept it).

Broad Street, its ministries, and people have long been the most important part of my Presbyterian College experience. They have blessed my weeks with worship and fellowship, but also allowed me to help build our Campus Ministry program. Thus building a bridge between what has been happening at the church in our small group Bible study to a recognized religious group on PC’s campus. I’m proud of what we’ve accomplished between my freshmen year to senior year and it makes it all that harder to think about graduation. However, it’s a support system I know won’t end just because I may be more miles away.

These people have sustained me during my college years. A wonderful sanctuary of people who allow me to step away from the stresses of a day to day life at a rigorous institution like PC, and remember the feel goods of home like a warm hug or delicious home-cooked meal.

So to my church family support system, “thank you!” You all helped inspire this call through the opportunities you’ve provided me. You helped me solidify this call with your unwavering push and support since I returned to tell you guys the news. Now you are the ones I’m answering to as I pursue ordination, and I could not consider myself any more blessed.

To the leading lady at Broad Street that holds the title pastor, ministry, or if you’re me “Preacher Lady”: thank you for being the shepherd of a flock that generates a welcoming environment for PC kids like myself and others to “come home to” each Fall semester. You have inspired me by your example since the first time I was so surprised to turn around and see a woman proceeding down the aisle of the church. While we pick at each other mercilessly sometimes I hope you know that it is our serious one-on-one conversations that I cherish the most. You push me forward in this ordination process, even when I’ve been nervous or hesitant and I’m grateful to have someone that knows me well enough to know I sometimes need that extra push. With my serious concerns or questions I turn to you because I know you’ll be honest with me. I need that as well. I also just need someone that’s presence reminds me I am loved and supported in this process. A fact you graciously remind me of constantly. I wouldn’t want anyone else playing the role of “Preacher Lady” (aka mentor, pastor, inspiration) in my life.

 My people are also my support system, my church family, and the people that make impending graduation in May so bittersweet. While I know it will be time, I dread when the time comes for me to department. You all have my heart now and probably for always.

Your Church Mouse. (name credits to Kitty Holtzclaw, obvs.)

Zechariah attitude

To say I am currently in a state of reflection, in an understatement. I do nothing but think, reflect; act, reflect; dream, reflect; sneeze; reflect. No I am kidding; however, I do constantly find myself reverting back to my past, comparing that to my present moment, and lining that up with what my future my hold.

This comes in a two-fold layer. One is the fact that I am a senior in college. I have no choice but to begin thinking about my life in the bigger picture scheme. Suddenly I am required to set my mind to things beyond Presbyterian College. What do I want to do with my life? Where do I want to live? Who do you want to be when you grow up? All the cliche poo-poo that comes with that last year of college. I am grateful for this season of my life though. It is a little fun to look at myself now, and think about where I have come in the past four years. Who I am today is WAY different than the person I was when I first entered college, and I could not be more glad for that fact. This season, a particular class I am taking, and others are requiring me to ponder in such manners, but there is also the second layer to this. A layer of ministry call that throws me full throttle into reflection, discernment, and now decision making.

God kind of worked on my heart the other day about my attitude towards this other layer though. While myself is pretty okie doke with the senior year of college part, I have a ways to go with this ministry call layer. My present fears I tie into the newness of all of this. I am still the "want to be prepared...I like goals..." self who likes that control. There is still that part of me that is petrified with the fact that this call I cannot control, I can only obey.

OBEY.

This word was placed on my heart and mind after lunch with a dear pastor/mentor the other week. As I spilled all my fears, worries, etc. to her, she stopped me. She in short said something along the way of: "Some days we simply obey." This took my train of thought and in relation my heart, down a different path. I saw a little less goal-oriented path and a bit more of simply a journey.

Well God did what God does and suddenly a pattern began to emerge. Journey. Obey. Trust. A conversation with a professor opened my mind to the fact that we are all on a journey, we never arrive, just simply travel down it. Which I think is a pretty accurate summary of ministry work, at least what I've been exposed to so far. I also was gifted with a book for my 22 birthday by the same mentor whom I had lunch with that used the word obey, entitled We Make the Road by Walking. I am only a chapter or so in, but it's already adding to this theme.

Then there was the big wammy the other day in my "Life of Jesus" class when we were studying the birth narrative. We as a class are discussing the dude named Zechariah. He is a priest in the Jewish faith, who literally is exposed day in and day out to the awesomeness of God, and what God can do. How God is capable of anything. Yet when he gets a hand delivered message from the big-wig angel of the Lord, he automatically doubts. For it he is silenced. Let me tell you, I was quick to pass judgement on this guy. You literally work the Lord, come on dude!

But my heart stopped me. Did I not recently see a reflection of this Zechariah attitude in myself? God was majorly opening doors for my ministry call. Not only in my relationships, but big things like expenses being covered for exciting conferences I get to travel to this November, leadership opportunities to live out this call now, and an AWESOME support network with mentors. However, I had not been recently experiencing much joy in this. I was dealing with worry, doubt, fears, and was this not exactly Zechariah's initial reaction? In may ways I am being called into my own priesthood within the Christian faith, and God has allowed me to witness the workings of the One in my life up until this point, now, and doors opening for the future. I would know, like I said I've been in a recent state of reflection.

Now my focus is changing my attitude a bit. I am working to have more the Mary or Elizabeth attitude to big news: trust and joy. It's not easy and I am having to work at it. Yet when I shift to a focus of being on a journey rather than attempting to arrive at one set destination, the lens of perspective change. The here and now matter as much as  the future. It's one long, never-ending journey. If that's ministry, I think my current present and future are looking very bright.

It's time to shy away from my Zechariah attitude. Perhaps I need to just be quiet for awhile as well, who knows what else I may hear when I'm talking less.

the need for community

We need authentic communities. No matter whether someone is an introvert, extrovert, or ambivert (a new vocabulary word I learned in my Feminist/Womanist Theologies/Pedagogues class today!) we need to be a part of something that is bigger than ourselves. A group that reminds us that we are not fighting this battle of life alone. 

For each individual, this looks a little different. Someone may be a part of a club they particularly enjoying being a part of or. Or an athlete may have a strong community in his/her sports team. However, what does this look like from a Christian perspective? My answer to that is in the example of my own faith community, Broad Street UMC. 

As I broke bread with my pastor today, I was reminded again of why we all need an authentic community to be a part of. I argue we all need this type of authentic faith community. During a conversation with her one time, she emphasized how our church was "home" for the PC students who decided to attend the church. 

How beautiful is that? A congregation that is willing to embrace the students as their own for the time they attend college. Beyond this, is the very concept of an embracing faith community. I have witnessed in the past going on four years now, that this faith community does this with all their members, no matter age or where they are from. 

We need to learn a lesson from this. We need to encourage our own churches, college small groups, and any other gathering of faithful brothers and sisters of Christ copy the concept of generating this attitude of unconditional love. 

Everyone needs to be reminded that its okay to not be okay, that they have a safe space to open up. Why not let this place be the church? Where else would we want to have the hurt of this world fixed? How does this look for you, your church (group), in what actions you can take? 

I stress the need for generating authentic FAITH communities. 

Those are my musings for this Wednesday from church mouse.

 

faith in action.

This was supposed to just be another meeting with my mentor. I treasured these monthly "get togethers" with Angela. They were moments where we could break bread in fellowship and talk about life, ministry, and reminiscence. My thoughts of this particular day were to expect nothing else than had always occurred; however, God was waiting to teach me a key ministry lesson that day. He had plans to remind me of what serving fellow brothers and sisters truly looks like in His divine concept of the kingdom here on Earth.

Those of us who claim ourselves as Christians are called for a life that as described in Ephesians, "for we are his workmanship, created in Christ Jesus for good works, which God has created beforehand (Ephesians 2:10 ESV). Therefore our faith isn't supposed to be stagnant, but should be ever moving. How often do we forget that? In today's society, it seems we witness more divinity than unity.

Where can we as Christians set an example for the rest of the world? I think we need to look no further than the example set by those family members (and congregation members) at Emmanuel AME in Charleston, and the grace of God's forgiveness in the form of unconditional love they demonstrated towards PURE evil in the  wake of the massacre. There was an example of unity in grace and love that can only be extended from the hands of Christ.

His hands were that which served those around him. I sometimes like to think of how Jesus must have looked as a preacher of the Word. My mental image is that of a gentle man who speaks with a soft-spoken authority about the Good News. Were his hands ones that moved with each breathe he took? Did they motion up and down with excitement and anger? Did they outline in the air the the dimensions of the kingdom come as he talked in parables or his teachings? I imagine a dynamic speaker whose hands were directing the divine orchestra of spreading the Gospel and redeeming this world.

His hands were also the same ones who came in hours before he was to be betrayed. Then he knelt down and washed the feet of everyone who would soon desert him. John 13 sets a scene of the Messiah getting his hands dirty in an act of humility that we all can learn from. This is the greatest proclamation of faith: through actions. 

This was the ministry lesson that Thursday, I was to learn. Angela asked if I would mind running an errand of delivering birthday flowers to those 80 + congregation members of her church celebrating that week. Of course I said yes. It meant more time with her, and why on earth would I turn that down? It was also an opportunity to see the day to day duties of a pastor. God would take this opportunity though and run with it.

Ministry (both for the ordained and laity), is about more than what occurs in the four walls of the church building. A fact I know but often forget until you see it demonstrated as it was that Thursday afternoon. The CHURCH in it's spiritual sense is what occurs when the people of the CHURCH who ARE the church, act with kindness towards one another. I had been forgetting about this vital component - human connection.

There were two stops we made that day that reminded me of the power of the faith family and it's greatest responsibility of its clergy: reaching out to physically be with your laity and meet their need for human connection. 

Ministry is taking the time to sit in the home of a grandmother and listen to her stories. Not rushing out but allowing her to welcome us with open arms and a hair full of rollers, in ultimate hospitality. A judgement free zone to simply connect with an ordinary goodness that is showing your visitors simple treasures of a hand painted scene of Italy by your husband and pictures of your grandchildren. An ordinary that comes across as extraordinary. Then ministry is to sit in the rehab center room of a recently turned 90 year old woman who cannot remember the date of her birthday to celebrate. Yet she finds this peace in seeing that her Mama, who probably long ago died, is with her; at one point physically and other times spiritually. A presence that she states is the best birthday gift she could receive if indeed it is her birthday. Ministry is watching your mentor sit patiently and answer each question, repeated constantly, with a gentle answer. No matter how many times you answer with the same gentle answer, you still sit there and meet that need.

This ministry lesson was one that will stay ingrained in my mind and spirit. It is one I will remember in my future clerical role as a deacon; that it will no only be I do in word but if not more importantly what I do in action. How do I meet the needs of my surrounding brothers and sisters with that needed human connection that reminds them that they are not alone. I was given a gift that day through the example of those dear, elderly souls I encountered in our home visits. A reminder that sometimes words do not need to be spoken, our only requirement may be to show up. Just simply show up and wash the metaphorical feet of our brothers and sisters - acts of servitude that God can take care of to levels we cannot even comprehend.

let's come together in prayer.

PRAYER.
ONE BODY.
UNITED.

I want to scream this from the rooftops right now. I have spent most of my day switching between doing my work and reading the most recent news update on the tragedy, the MASSACRE that has occurred at Emmanuel African Methodist Episcopal Church in Charleston. My heart is literally breaking for my brothers and sisters whose lives were lost, the families of the victims, the congregation, Charleston, South Carolina, our state, our nation, our world.

I grieve because this happened. I grieve because this type of hatred because of difference is still occurring in 2015. I grieve because this was a young man who is literally my age. It's a reminder that we live in an imperfect world where evil still exists. Evil is something that will linger here until God's kingdom comes and His will is done here on earth. I grieve because the political realm is using this already as a spring board for pushing their own agendas in regards to legislative measures about guns, etc. that could have "prevented" this and the lives that were lost.

The truth is that it is not the gun that kills an individual, it is the hand that pulls the trigger. An evil, sick man woke up yesterday and decided that for whatever reason he was going to go kill simply because he could. He decided to sit in a house of worship and murder innocent people. No matter what strict policy may or may not be in place or what opinions reporters, politicians, or individuals may have...evil would have found a way. He would have found a way to commit this act if not now, then later. If not this way then in another way. He was EVIL.

However, this is not what I am here to write about. This is not the issue that hurts my heart and shakes my soul. Political agendas are NOT the point right now.

What is important is the victims whose lives were tragically loss, their families left behind, the congregation at Emmanuel AME and the pain ripping through so many right now. This is not the time to become divided on opinions or to use this incident as an example for some legislation.

THIS is the time to unite in prayer.

My heart and soul that breaks is uplifted a bit when I see splashed across my social media so many coming together to pray. How they are uniting as one to simply pray and be together. At this moment that is our greatest weapon and what we need to focus our energy on. We need to focus on coming together as one Body of Christ as is described in Romans 12.

Let us put aside opinions, differences, divisions, anything that separates us as human beings and come together simply because we are all children of The Almighty. Let us simply pray. Truly that is all we can control at the time and is our greatest force. The rest will come with time, but let us not add salt to a deep wound by our prideful intentions, no matter how good they may seem.

May the prayer trend continue throughout our state, nation, and the world. May we give everyone the time to grieve. May we all be One Body united in prayer that supports our brothers and sisters at Emmanuel AME.

Lord in Your Mercy. 

a lesson in communication, thank you to WIS "media family".

As I continue to discern further my ministry call, I know effective communication within the church is very much a defining factor of it. While I may be switching from a dream in the newsroom to the Church, my love of telling a story is not. The concept of journalism is to tell an objective story; well-rounded, thoroughly researched, many sources, both sides of the story, etc. It is about telling the stories of the people in a community and exposing  the truth. There is a responsibility to be a voice for the people. This journalistic philosophy is one I am still passionate about. Just because my direction has changed, many thing within my heart have not. How these passion will play out in the upcoming future just now looks a little different.

To be honest, I have been grieving my journalism dream. This is not something I ever planned to let go of, nor do I do so fully without a lot of bittersweet-ness. For seven plus years this was the goal I was working towards rigorously. All of my steps were taken in this one particular direction and no one could waver me from it. I had an amazing support team surrounding me, especially mentors in the WIS community. While I no longer looks towards a future in the newsroom, I have come to realize that God directly put me on this path because of the individuals I would meet who would teach me about faith and becoming a "voice for the voiceless". I reap many lessons from these years of study that will be beneficial to my future ministry and I know it was all a part of a greater plan.

As I move forward in my ministry discernment and close one chapter, I cannot do so without expressing my thanks to a group of people who did change my life. While I thought it was for one reason, it was for another that God used their influences, relationships, and experiences together to help define my future career.

 

 

Through Dawndy Mercer Plank, God taught me what compassion for a cause looks like. How you can use your faith and life experiences to spread a message of hope or encouragement to others. He also taught me what it means to reach out to someone who looks up to you, and try to help them along their way.
Dawndy: I will never be able to thank you enough for everything you have done for me. From the first time we met in the studio and you extended a warm hug of welcome instead of a simple, polite handshake, you have touched me. I spent hours with you that first day just sitting in the studio watching as you anchored. Afterwards, you extended your hand in helping mentor and guide me over these past three years. All the times you let me shadow you on the field or in the newsroom are wonderful memories I will cherish always. You did more than affect my journalistic life, you also affected my spiritual life. You taught me through your actions about what a woman of God looks like in the newsroom. Besides journalism guidance, you also offered life guidance. You listened and offered advice when I came to you with problems about college or life. There was also the time you had the grief counselor come do a segment on dealing with grief, when I was dealing with it myself. As I watched that segment that day I just balled. That meant EVERYTHING to me as you actively loved me in my time of need. Your impact on my life has not and will not end. You have a powerful passion for seeking help for viewers to keep them informed, and you passed that lesson on to me. In my future ministry I will carry on that lesson of seeking justice and uplifting the voice of the people in community I am a part of. You changed my life and I'm forever grateful to you. Thank you for "adopting" me. I will never be able to repay you for all you've done.

Through the example of Mary King, God taught me what pure joy for life looks like. No matter what life circumstances may throw your way or what time in the morning you have to get up, a smile can still be on your face. This type of zest only comes when someone is full of the Holy Spirit. When someone is that personable, people feel they can relate to you and therefore trust you with information. When your job is to help keep others informed, that type of trust is vital. Mary: you have always been so kind to me. Our lunch dates, shadowing you at 3:45 AM on Sunrise, and your cheerful disposition has always warmed my heart. You are one of the most genuine people I know. That resonates with me as I know I need to treat others that way. You extend that compassion to all you encounter and I know that it will be important I do that to those I serve in ministry, later. Thank you for that lesson and taking me under your wing.

Tim Miller my Twitter buddy. You always have a smile on your face and jokes coming off your lips. That wit has always made me laugh in our Twitter correspondence. When we were finally able to meet in person, the laughs continued. Thank you for reminding me about the power of social media and how it connects people. I also plan to use that to better connect congregations or people of the Church in my future ministry; a lesson I owe to you and our friendship. Through all the wit, you also take your responsibility as a weatherman very seriously. This balance is a lesson I take away as well about how to fulfill my responsibility of those I serve in ministry, but also doing so in ways that help make people laugh.

There are so many others at the station that have taught me lessons about telling the story that I cannot express my thanks enough for. Judi, PJ, Len, Beth, and basically everyone there. In the past three years, WIS has truly felt like an extended "adopted" media family. You all always welcomed me to shadow and explore the studio, soaking up all I learned. You all kept me encouraged through social media too, especially when I was in Washington, D.C.

I may not be going into the newsroom, but I have gained so many lessons from my time with those at WIS that I will carry into my future. While I knew that God brought WIS and the people there into my life to shape, influence, and change me it was not in the ways I initially thought. In fact it was in even more real and powerful ways.

These people taught me about compassion. These people taught me about what it looks like to fight for the truth and being a "voice for the voiceless". These people taught me about caring for the community you are in and holding true to that responsibility. These people taught me a lot about myself. For that I will always be grateful.

for everything there is a season....

Ecclesiastes 3:1-8 The Voice (VOICE)

3 Teacher: For everything that happens in life—there is a season, a right time for everything under heaven:

²     A time to be born, a time to die;
        a time to plant, a time to collect the harvest;
³     A time to kill, a time to heal;
        a time to tear down, a time to build up;
⁴     A time to cry, a time to laugh;
        a time to mourn, a time to dance;
⁵     A time to scatter stones, a time to pile them up;
        a time for a warm embrace, a time for keeping your distance;
⁶     A time to search, a time to give up as lost;
        a time to keep, a time to throw out;
⁷     A time to tear apart, a time to bind together;
        a time to be quiet, a time to speak up;
⁸     A time to love, a time to hate;
        a time to go to war, a time to make peace.

 

______________________________________

 

As I write this post, I reflect on this above Scripture because it is time to begin a new season of my life. If I had known a year ago where I would be today, I would not have believed it. This was not in my life plan and there is still so much to do and learn in the years ahead. However, the first steps have taken place and I think it's time I share my story. This is a story that opens up a new journey I'm about to begin, or continue because I know that this is a journey I've been on since October. Now, it's just time to fill in others on this journey.

 

This is me telling the beginning of my ministry journey......hang with me as I tell my tale.

 

______________________________________________________________________

 

I remember crying at my confirmation. On a bright Sunday morning, I knelt at the altar of my home church. Around my neck was the stole I had made for this day, full of pictures of symbolic representations of my faith journey thus far. I clearly recall how I felt the touch of all those around me, as the pastor blessed me: my parents, my youth director, Angela, and my pastors. As I felt their hands on me, I felt another pair of hands, too. These hands were God placing God's hands on me as I knelt and made a promise to begin my own faith walk. This was very important to me, because I was ready to begin to define what my faith meant, one that was separate from my family's; I took the gift of obtaining my own church membership as a great responsibility. As I rose after the blessing, I felt tears rolling down my face. These tears were gentle, soft tears of gratitude because my heart felt it was about to burst with joy. As one of my friend's dad, who to this day is very special to me, handed me a tissue to wipe my tears, I smiled and sat down in the pew. At the time, I thought I was just being emotional as I always was. As I reflect back now, I think that this was the first time that God began calling me to ministry. I was just not ready to recognize nor accept it yet.

 

I left for Washington, D.C. in the August of 2014 ready to begin steps in furthering my dream of becoming a broadcast journalist. I was ready to set the world on fire with my broadcast skills and a heart  that was ready to be a "voice for the voiceless". When I left in December of 2014 to return to South Carolina, I also left with a call to ministry.

As I know all who are reading this are surprised, trust me....so was I. In fact, I still am.

 

It has now been almost six months since I first recognized this call on Massachusetts Ave. in Washington, D.C., but this week marks the beginning of accepting this call. As was announced in my college home church, Broad Street United Methodist Church, I am beginning to explore candidacy with the South Carolina Conference of the UMC to follow a call into ordained deacon ministry with a letter sent to my district superintendent. My vision of being a "voice for the voiceless" still rings in my heart; however, as I told my district superintendent in my letter to inquire about entering exploring the candidacy process, my passion will cause me to be a little more active in helping the voiceless.

A long story short, I fully recognized my call while I was in Washington, D.C. because God placed me in a news room with a wonderful internship where I had always thought I wanted to be, and then in a church community where I had always been. Over the course of the months I was in the city, my life began to take a twist away from the news room and more towards the church. At Mount Vernon Place United Methodist Church, I saw a very powerful outreach ministry towards those on the margins; these people on the margins I also befriended. Within this congregation and participating in its ministries, I felt such a fulfillment. Perhaps it was because my mind was already in tuned with my internship to think about my future, that I finally recognized this call God had placed on my heart. Who truly knows. I just know that it was through the power of this church and its pastor that I finished a thought of entering ordained ministry.

I feel called to be a "voice for the voiceless". I see a very powerful connection within the ministries of a church, particularly outreach ministries, to help those hurting. This also includes those within a congregation. As I spent my time in a city that was completely new, completely out of my comfort zone, and completely spectacular, I found God in ways I had never imagined. People laugh when I say Washington, D.C. taught me how to love. However, it did because it exposed to me first hand the really harsh realities of pain and suffering in this world, but also the ways in which we as the Church are called to aid in this by meeting the basic needs of people (food, shelter, and community), and building spiritually from that by sharing the Gospel of Jesus Christ. How God loves and accepts EVERYONE; no matter what.

I'm thankful for this call. I'm also extremely grateful for the way God has used mentors and loved ones and my family to guide me and sustain me in this call; now and as I move forward. One of the biggest advocates and mentors through this now and as I move forward is someone's whose hands were on me that day I was confirmed. She was the first person I reached out to when I felt that whisper in my heart growing louder. Angela Marshall has been a true rock for me in ways I cannot even express. She has been there for me with long text messages, hours on the phone, visits in person, prayers, tough love, and so, so much more. I know she is someone who will be with me all along this way, and I am so thankful for that. God is renewing and using this relationship that I cannot be grateful enough for. Angela, thank you for being you.

There have been many other amazing advocates for me as I begin and continue on this journey, ones I continue to share about as is the right time. My story is not complete, nor will it be until the day I enter into the Glory. For now it is just continuing with this recognition and moving forward as I further discern my call. At the moment, I know I am called to ordained ministry and in the form of deacon. The rest of the details I do not know at the time, nor do I have to I know. God will unveil them to me at the right time in the right places.

I am grateful for where this may take. I'm grateful to the amazing church families and influences that have molded and shaped me into the Christian woman I am. They all will continue to be rocks for me as I move forward. I will continue to use this blog to share my journey. This is only the beginning of it. It is just time I think, to tell everyone.

Lord use me....wherever You may send me.....
 

one body of Christ.

Matthew 21:1-11English Standard Version (ESV)

The Triumphal Entry

21 Now when they drew near to Jerusalem and came to Bethphage, to the Mount of Olives, then Jesus sent two disciples, ² saying to them, “Go into the village in front of you, and immediately you will find a donkey tied, and a colt with her. Untie them and bring them to me. ³ If anyone says anything to you, you shall say, ‘The Lord needs them,’ and he will send them at once.” ⁴ This took place to fulfill what was spoken by the prophet, saying,

⁵ “Say to the daughter of Zion,
‘Behold, your king is coming to you,
    humble, and mounted on a donkey,
    on a colt,^[a] the foal of a beast of burden.’”

⁶ The disciples went and did as Jesus had directed them. ⁷ They brought the donkey and the colt and put on them their cloaks, and he sat on them. ⁸ Most of the crowd spread their cloaks on the road, and others cut branches from the trees and spread them on the road. ⁹ And the crowds that went before him and that followed him were shouting, “Hosanna to the Son of David! Blessed is he who comes in the name of the Lord! Hosanna in the highest!” ¹⁰ And when he entered Jerusalem, the whole city was stirred up, saying, “Who is this?” ¹¹ And the crowds said, “This is the prophet Jesus, from Nazareth of Galilee.”

 

We sat in the circle of prayers before we began the "Stations of the Cross" program. While we did not plan on it, we had subconsciously ordered ourselves so that every other person was either from the Catholic Student Association group or our Methodist Student group from Broad Street. Amber led those who were Catholic in the group to recite the "Hail Mary", and then I entered into an opening prayer. After we had broken and started the program, I couldn't help but keep reflecting back to our prayer.

 

One body in Christ.

 

 

We begin the celebratory road to Easter in the city of Jerusalem as the Savior enters into the city on a donkey with palm branches waving to welcome. It's the beginning of a series of even that would literally change the world. It is a story that is pivotal in the faith story of those of us who identify as Christian.

 

The "Stations of the Cross" depict the darker side of that Passion story. It is full of death, pain, despair, and what seems a hopeless situation. It leaves you feeling bleak on the Monday of Holy Week thinking, "well where do we go from here?". (As if Mondays weren't bad enough). However, I think it was poignant to have the death aspect of the Resurrection story begin our week. A week that is supposed to be reflective of what exactly that cross and the sacrifice that was laid upon it mean to us as Christians. 

 

I found myself thinking about what comes after the tomb has closed though. How that is NOT the end of the story. Christ does rise! His story and therefore our story carries on for generations to come. The blessing is that I was also reminded that while we may all belong to different branches of the Christian tree, we are all still ONE body in Christ. We all have the same gift of grace and salvation that was given to us, and we all celebrate that. 

 

We as Catholic and Methodist (and Presbyterian) students came together to demonstrate to our college campus that while certain traditions or prayers may divide our denominations, Christ is that unifying central point.  We all have the same Messiah.

 

I think we can become guilty in getting caught up in what divides us as Christians or even other faiths. We forget about the one true God that unities us all. I think we also forget the Savior who died for ALL, who loves ALL, who we are all working for the good of. No one gets left out of that circle. Just like no one was left out of our prayer circle.

 

As we journey to the cross this week. Let us remember who we travel with. Just as there were many in the crowds that Palm Sunday, there are many of us in this crowd of faith. However, we are all waving our palm branches and shouting "Hosanna in Highest" for the same King of the Jews.

 

in high school, you knew more about me than my best friends.

When I was in my old high school tonight, I did something I had never done before: I raised my hand to sign an "L" during the singing of the alma mater. Yes, I felt old enough to do it since I'm now about three years out of high school. It was the annual "Mr. LE" and my sister was escorting her best guy friend.

I was reflective not only being in my old high school for the first time in years, but I also was reflective because this program was one I had once been backstage helping run. Since the "Mr. LE" is run by the journalism department, I could not help but think about all the fun memories I had had with the journalism department at Lugoff-Elgin Highs School. In fact, the journalism department was what made the years of high school bearable for myself. It also had me reflecting on the individual who ran our journalism department so successfully.

A teacher who yes as the Buzzfeed list said, "knew more about me than my best friends do". My high school journalism teacher, Jenny Proctor, was one whom did know more about me than most of my best friends in high school. Here is an updated and repost from a previous blogpost of mine from when I described her my life changer. Today, she still is.

We all have one person who began something really important in our life. They were the first to inspire us or guide us. They began something in our life, no matter how small, that had a significant impact.

Sometimes that impact happens at one time, and sometimes it's a long-lasting and continuing impact.

The appreciation I have for this woman in my life cannot be put into words, nor can the love I have for her be measured. There is no way I would be pursuing the career that I am, with the passion that I have had it not been for her.

The first time I entered Journalism 101, I was met with an energetic, vivacious woman. She had this passion for this new subject of mine, journalism. It was a passion that I soon shared. There was something infectious about her passion.

She opened my eyes to a world where there is a commitment to telling the truth. A commitment to keeping the public informed. A commitment to telling peoples' stories and living out the first amendment right.

A teacher is someone who not only teaches her students academic lessons, but life lessons as well. Where their commitment to their students isn't just about fulfilling their job description, but fulfilling a higher calling. A calling to make a difference.

She is one who has never given up on me. Her commitment to me as a student was also a commitment to me as a person. This is why three years after I've graduated high school, I still turn to her for advice. It is why I still pick up my phone to tell her good news before most other people.

Her impact in my life cannot be put into words. It can only be seen when I reflect back on the journey that led me here. When I reflect on the journey I have taken in pursuing my dreams. Each step along the way, she is there. She has added to the pieces of the puzzle of my life in both small and big ways.

I know that there is absolutely no way I would be who I am without her.

If only our world had more teachers who made such a commitment to their students. Who are truly pursuing a higher calling of helping guide their students instead of just earning  a paycheck. It is these individuals that make the difference in the lives of the students they teach.

It is people like Jenny Proctor who make the world a better place.

You're a life changer. You are my life changer. Thank you for being you. Thank you for helping me too, to grow in my faith. I learned through you what it meant to teach young people about being a woman of Christ. You walk in His name every day, and it is reflective in the way you carry yourself daily. I grew in my faith as I would sit in youth groups at Bethel and listen to you pray then teach our weekly lesson, or other times I would hear you teach about God's Word. I knew I could come to you with faith questions, and you would be willing to listen and answer.

Thank you Jenny for being you. You've impacted my life in more ways than I can describe. I am thankful to have you as a mentor. I am thankful that even six years after we first met, I still have you in my life. I pray that never changes.

my coaches.

Tonight at church we had a speaker come from Presbyterian College's FCA. In his talk, he discusses the importance of coaches, not in regards to wins or looses with whatever games of the sports they happen to be coaching. No, he was talking about the wins or loses in the students' lives; he was discussing the importance of mentors that coach to the kids about a life lived in Christ.

Now this spoke to me and immediately my own coaches came to my mind. No, I am not talking about sport coaches. If any of you know me well, you know that I am not an athletic individual. The only type of sports I ever did was one round of soccer around my first grade year. When we started running at practice, I asked the coach if we ran this much every time. The answer was yes and my answer to that was to sit in the middle of the field until my daddy came and got me. I never did return to another practice.

What came to my mind were the mentors I have or have had in my life. In particular I thought of the women mentors I have had in my life. My course load this semester at PC all revolve around two topic: women and religion. This has caused me to have at the forefront of my mind the many wonderful female spiritual mentors I have had or do have that have helped me grow in my faith.

Tonight I was inspired to highlight each of these ladies. While Women's History Month does not begin until technically Sunday, I am going to begin this week with one very special spiritual mentor in my life. This individual has helped me through some of my most challenging times of my college years. To be honest, I cannot think I would have made it through without her help, guidance, patience, wisdom, and unconditional love.

Week one spiritual mentor highlight.

*****************************************

A life coach by example: Kitty Holtzclaw.

My first Sunday at Broad Street United Methodist Church, I was quite surprised to see a female minister walk down the aisle during the opening hymn. While I had had female pastors in the past, I had never encountered one who was so young as the head pastor. It instantly gained my attention.

Quickly I grew to like this head pastor, Dr. Rev. Kitty Cooper Holtzclaw, as is her official title. When she stepped up to that pulpit, you knew you were hearing someone preach that was moved by the Holy Spirit. However, it was more than just her weekly sermons that gained my admiration for Kitty. Truthfully, it was the way she lived her life that has and does teach me so much.

Kitty knows how to make people feel loved. She genuinely cares for every congregation member (or visitor) that walks through the doors of the church. It is through her example that I learned what it means to welcome all in the name of Christ. Every Wednesday evening, she takes time to speak to practically everyone in Hodges Hall. Even if she is the very last one in the line to get dinner, she does not stand in line until she has spoken to all.

Through her example, Kitty has taught me what it means to be sensitive to the Holy Spirit. While I view her as one of the wisest women I have ever met, she also is wise in Scripture. When she preaches or teaches a lesson, you know that there is divine inspiration behind what she is proclaiming to her congregation. I have learned from her that when I go to step up and lead in a worship type of setting (whatever this may look like), I need to be cognizant to listening for the Holy Spirit's guidance. There is no doubt that is what she does.

Kitty has also taught me that the best ministers have a sense of humor. Anyone that knows me too, knows that if I don't pick on you, then I don't truly care. If I am teasing you mercilessly, it means I love you. This is a similar sense of humor found in Kitty. She knows how to crack and joke and make the whole room laugh. Not only this, but she walks around with joy. You cannot be around her and not instantly feel better, mood wise and about yourself. Over the past years, we have played off each other in this witty manner. I appreciate a minister who can be both serious and funny. Even Jesus laughed a time and again.

More than anything, I have learned from Kitty what a woman of God looks like; both in the ways of a person and as a member of the clergy. Honestly, Kitty is one of the wisest women I have ever met. Not only in the academic sense, but in the theological sense as well. Listening to her talk, even in normal conversation, will typically leave me in awe. Her insight is amazing and I am grateful I have the chance to regularly engage in conversation with her.

Kitty has been someone I can always count on. Even when I am trying the patience or asking yet another theological question, she is always there for me. I know that if push comes to shove, I can reach out to her for help; whether this is shoulder to cry on, an ear to share good news with, or simply someone to laugh with. Kitty loves unconditionally and that is something that has meant the world to me during my three years in college. She listens intently, thinks about her answers, and then offers the advice she feels is best.

To a young Christian woman, this example to live by is priceless.

So thank you to my collegiate coach, Pastor Kitty Holtzclaw. Your influence on myself means the world to me, as does your relationship. Thank you for just being yourself and what that allows me to learn from you. You are a remarkable woman.

 

 

 

 

Next week: spiritual coach by high school standards.