22. Decisions

The following is my letter to Staff-Parish explaining my decision to delay Candidacy:

11 August 2008

To the members of the State Street Staff-Parish Relations Committee:

Thank you for making time for me in your August meeting. I appreciate the chance to meet with you in preparation for declared candidacy, and the support you have given me in the past as well. However, I’m learning that a large part of any calling is learning to live in God’s time. Though the result is usually something much simpler than I would create for myself, it leaves me scrambling with the plans I build up for myself. I have felt a good deal of “gentle nudging” that this is not the right time for me to pursue candidacy further. Let me attempt to explain further.

When I prepared to visit Hyden, Kentucky with the rest of our Appalachia Service Project team, I expected it to be different than anything I’d ever seen. I expected to fall in love with the people there. I knew I would change, too, but I didn’t know how much! You see, the more I fell in love, the more my viewpoint on ministry changed. First, it was the way I perceived “mission work.” The overcrowded and noisy Estep dwelling was so unlike anything I had ever encountered. Our work, though, was so much less about the church and about doing ministry than it was about forming relationships and becoming a part of the community. Second, I was changed by falling in love with those in poverty rather than simply donating money. When I went on Sunday night home visits, I wondered how they could possibly live like they did. On Friday night, as we prepared to leave, I wondered how I could possibly live like I do. I will never look at poverty in the same way again because it has a face now, and I love the people that belong to those faces.

Our trip to Kentucky taught me how important community is and how important it is to get to know people even if you can’t solve all their problems. It taught me how much more I love sitting down and talking with people than sitting in committee meetings and talking about potential ways to help people. So, I’m working on pruning commitments in my life, so that I can be more intentional about being a part of the Ann Arbor community. I will be attending the University of Michigan this fall, and I want to be able to start fresh. Much of my time in Saginaw was spent wishing that I had more time to do things in the community and more time to not only foster existing relationships but begin new ones. It was always on a to-do list, though, and rarely on a calendar. I’m pruning passionless commitments, and I’m pruning the feeling of needless rush. Certified Candidacy follows close on the heels of Declared Candidacy, and after that, continuing candidacy and meeting after meeting after meeting until eventually ordination. I’m simply not as ready as I thought I was. I have so much more to learn about myself and my approach to ministry, about people in community, and about God’s amazing role in it all.

I still feel called to the ministry of an elder in the United Methodist Church. I still feel God’s careful leading. Yet, I grow each day in the knowledge that God has much more for me to learn as well. I’m taking a year (maybe two or three) away from this process to learn and grow more before I am able to return. Though I may come back with just as many questions, my hope is that I will return with a clearer head. Thank you again for making time for me, and for giving me the space to come back when I’m ready. Blessings for the journey!

In Christ’s Love,

Lizz Martin

21. Keeping up

A usual phenomenon--struggling just to keep up with what's right in front of my face.

I have had an amazing past few weeks, though.

Here's a (not so) small part:

(1) To begin with, the weather has been absolutely gorgeous. Clear, sunny days and weather in the 70's is unheard of for Michigan at this time of the year. We've gone outside many of the days at school, and our language arts class is heading off for our annual writing retreat tomorrow. I am always excited for this, but this may be our first warm -- and sunny -- year!

(2) Our Conference Council on Youth Ministries lead a Confirmands' Rally for about 250 youth from both the West Michigan and Detroit Conferences. I was the chair of the planning committee and put in many late nights getting things together, but every second was worth it. Those who volunteered to help with the rally -- from the praise band at the college and local church, to our youth coordinator, to the amazing CCYM leaders who worked with workshops and worship, to all the attending youth who willingly participated. There were some kinks, and I learned a lot along the way, but I enjoyed it so immensely. God was working in so many awesome ways.

(3) This past weekend I went to a Youth Lay Speaking Weekend in our district, taking the Advanced Class, Lay Speakers Tell Stories-- the course is written by Ray Buckley. As my last time attending as a youth, as well as one of my last times truly being laity (I'll be in the transition this time next year as a certified candidate, God-willing), it meant a lot to me. I enjoyed spending a silly weekend with some older friends and getting a chance to meet the new youth there for basic. We paired up with them as prayer partners and really had some awesome conversations. It got me ready for a week of work-- but alas I'm off for another retreat. I will have mountains by the time I get back on Thursday because...

(4) speaking of work, I have a lot! Finals for my Spanish class are next week. Our group is presenting on women's changing roles in society in Spain from the Civil War there through present. I have an ending narrative to write, severe memorizing to do as the narrator, an evaluation to prepare, and I'm sure, as the week progresses, several other details to attend to. As well, I have a final paper to write for that class on elements of theatre in Todo Sobre Mi Madre (a subject I chose myself and am interested in, but still have no reason to look forward to writing!) I am weeks behind in AP French--thank goodness for an understanding teacher. I have a test to finish, three essays to write, two quizzes, and a discussion board post. I need to gain momentum to finish the course early, as well, since I'm graduating before the end of the course as scheduled. My Japanese course...is well, not being done. Out of 8 lessons (that take me approximately 2 hours each), I've finished exactly one...and maybe a half.

Why is it so much easier to write about work than to do it? I also have books to read and a paper to write for English and a chapbook to put together. But I will get through it, and it will feel good when I do because

I.am.graduating!!!!

(5) In a windfall, I received two jobs for this summer. One, which I have started, is at a cute place called Tropical Smoothie Cafe. The hours are somewhat long, but I love the work, love the people, and definitely love my discounts on the food. I'll also be working at the zoo after the start of their season in May. I am very excited for this summer! It will be busy but a good one.

(6) And the other things filling my time? Various church events, registering for housing and orientation at U of M for next year, working through the Candidacy Process and preparing for the psych assessment that comes next, and trying to find some time to spend with friends and family (particulary my mother -- and Sammy and Ashton whom I haven't seen in a few weeks!) as well as squeezing in an occasional nap or two.

Off to do tomorrow's packing--

Grace and peace!

20. Cain's narrative

Here is a written version of roughly the story I told at the lay speaking training I attended this last weekend. Subject: Storytelling. Contrary to what I would have thought as I was writing it (especially since not even the idea was in conception before arriving), I think I actually did a much better job of telling it without the words in front of me! In fact, I keep trying to remember all that I said to help flesh out the written version. One facilitator told me that she was amazed that I didn't use a single "um." -- I have to say I was amazed at that too. God works in awesome ways!

I. Growing up, I felt an amazing sense of freedom. The world was open to possibility. I would walk for miles in every direction -- sometimes to pass the time and other times as our family searched for new soil to cultivate. And no matter where we walked, there was never an end in sight -- just wide-open spaces that stretched on forever. There was so much possibility in this space. I knew that my brother and I would have children and grandchildren enough to fill this world. Surely, God created us for great things. 

II. Yet as I grew older I started to lose sight of this. The weight of the endless possibilities started to be a load upon my shoulders. I soon began to wonder if somewhere in that wide-open space God had created another family, and if not, why us? Why us with such a great capacity to sin? You see, I began to hear the stories of my parents' exile from the garden of Eden, which means "luxuriance." They were exiled from luxury for their sin, and they did not fit in this new land. This land that had been so open for me, and so full of possibility, had been a source of contention for my father. I loved to work with the land-- smoothing out the rough places, opening up the pinecones and fruits and sliding my fingers inside to take out their seeds, planting seeds deep in the ground, caring for them and watching them grow. When we grew old enough, my brother and I knew we had to choose what to do to maintain our living. It did not make sense that we both would do the work of our father -- both farming and caring for the animals--so we chose to each do what we liked best. For me, I knew automatically. I loved the soil and wanted that to be my work. In part, it was a way for me to make up for my parents' actions. This may be their punishment, but I would make things right again. Abel, my younger brother, chose to shepherd the animals. These were the animals our father had named, and he wanted to carry on that name. And so, here we were-- me striving to rectify the past, and him, striving ahead for our father's attention. 

III. We worked well in this way for many years, side by side providing for our parents, and for our brothers and sisters as they came along. One day, the idea came to Abel that we should give back part to our God. He had provided so much to us, and it seemed only right to give part back. My father loved the idea, and I? I thought it was another attempt for my brother to take the forefront. Our parents' love was not enough -- was not I too providing in equal amount for our welfare. He wanted God's approval as well. I went along with the idea though--how could I not? As I was picking my crops, though, I couldn't help but pause. How does one determine what is the best for God? Is it wrong to want the best for my family? They are here. They are tangible. What I give to God, I cannot give to my family. And so, as I wandered the fields, I picked the second best. I picked a beautiful array -- of fruits and vegetables of every variety and fine wheat and grain that I had watched over all year with gentle care. I was pleased with my work, and I hoped silently that it was enough. I brought my offering first to the altar we had constructed. I hoped my eagerness might erase my doubt. But, alas, Abel arrived with the best of his flock, and he made great show of his sacrifice. Afterward, God commended him, and to me, he said nothing. 

IV. Then, finally, he spoke, but his words were too big, and I did not understand. He said, "Sin's urge is toward you, yet you can be its master." Was it sin to give God second best? What was sin? I had known my parents' sin, but I did not yet know the capacity of my own. I did not understand. 

V. The weight continued to build. Now, I had the possibility for good things so strong upon my shoulders that there was hardly any room for freedom. I wanted to rectify the mistakes of my parents. I wanted to love my brother. I wanted to follow God's words for me. I waited and I wrestled with these things upon my heart, but the load only grew and my heart became to heavy to love anything-- not even myself, for I felt worthless. 

VI. And so, one day, I called for my brother in the fields, and I killed him. And then, I hid from God. 

VII. It was rash, adn the guild was too much to even comprehend the details. Had I truly stabbed him with his own knife? I, who had never hunted? I, whose work was with the gentle care of plants had slain my brother. And I did not know what I was doing. But one thing I knew. Suddenly, that immense weight had been lifted. The pressure had broken from all sides -- for I was in hiding even from myself. And yet, I did not feel free. What had been a sense of purpose, though burdening, had been replaced with the weights of guilt and remorse-- under which I was helpless. 

VIII. And so, God found me in this state, cowering. And as he demanded to know what I had done with my brother, his words were deafening to my ears. They rushed at high speed and stole all else from my mind. Was I my brother's keeper? I did not know, for I could not claim something I had not fulfilled. When God had finished speaking, I was low to the ground. It was my good-bye. For I could no longer work with the soil I loved. The blood of Abel was there now, and nothing was any longer as God had intended. I had violated nature's trust and it had rejected me in turn. I lay low to the ground, and I pleaded with God. I begged him, "At least, Lord, as I am wandering, may one along the road kill me." But that was not to be. I had killed my flesh. His blood shed was not only his own but that of his descendents. God knew I must live with this memory in order to be healed. But I was scared. A life of wandering was not for me -- to leave the famiyl I had provided for? to leave the rich land I had cultivated? I had no idea what was to come or even what I might encounter-- only that I would live through anything. I stood in the still wind, facing East-- even further away from the garden where it had all begun-- wondering that God had marked even me. God had marked even me.

Amen

19. What is God's invitation for us at this season of our lives?

The Rising: Living the Mysteries of Lent, Easter, and Pentecost by Wendy M. Wright. Our church is going through a bible study on Thursday nights with this book right now. It is a good chance for discussion mid-week.

Desert Listening

"Several years ago I was invited to give a Lenten retreat in Wyoming at a thriving university campus Catholic parish. The parish ministers had gone to great lengths to make the Lenten season come alive for their parishioners. Worship services were carefully designed to heighten the Lenten mood. Visually, the church interior proclaimed the seasonal mood. Banners of the traditional Lenten purple (the liturgical color of penance) hung from the ceiling of the church. There were also large earthenware bowls filled with sand decorating the steps leading to the altar. While this in itself is not unusual in denominations that are highly liturgical, this parish high in the mountainous plains of Wyoming had at least one visual and tactile sign that was unique. They had filled the holy water fonts that stand at the doorways to the church with desert sand. Entering the sanctuary it is customary to dip one's fingers in the water and make the sign of the cross. During this year's season that habitual gesture would be arrested in process. One would find one had dipped into the dryness of sand.

"By this hand-dipping gesture I was made keenly aware of the Lenten desert invitation. I was taken back not only to Jesus' wilderness drama but also to the desert ascetics of fourth century Egypt, Palestine, and Syria. For me they are models of discernment. These zealous Christians, convinced that discipleship meant a radical transformation of life, left the "world" with its false values and fled to the desert, there to do battle with the "worldly" demons lodged in their own hearts. Pride, greed, self-aggrandizement, lust for power -- all the false motivations that drive human beings -- were ferreted out and replaced by the spirit of Christ: the spirit of compassion, humility, and purity of heart.

"The key to the transformation of the desert was the ascetic's listening ear. In silence and solitude they cultivated a hearing attuned to catch the voice of God. They learned that going apart from the noisy environment of daily life to the silence of the desert enabled them to perceive deeper levels of noise and silence. In the desert's quiet they discovered the noisiness within, the restless cacophony of voices raging in their hearts. Yet if they persevered further, they found that beneath that was another level of silence, an abyss of stillness that encompassed all that exists. There, in the primal silence within the human heart, the voice of God could be clearly heard." [this last would be an interesting sermon illustration for the story of Elijah on Mount Sinai in 1 Kings 19]

"The patient process of untangling the threads of voices, of settling down to the center was the lifelong work of the desert. It is our work as well. Like the desert ascetics, we must learn the art of inner listening. Where do the many voices within come from? And where do they lead? To self-aggrandizement and judgement of others, or to compassion and reconciliation? Which of the voices is the voice of God? To what am I called? What is God's invitation for me at this season of my life?

"Lent is a time for tuning our ears, for listening carefully, for discerning the texture and quality of our own demons, for attending to God's unceasing, creative plea amidst the noise of cultural pressures, the busyness of life, and our own self-limiting habits. Some of our Lenten discernments may be fairly straightforward. We may have become inattentive in our eating or drinking and need to give our oversatiated bodies a holiday. We may need to curb a smoking habit that endangers the health of those we live with as well as ourselves. We may need to cultivate a more rhythmic pattern of prayer or bring the scriptures into clearer focus in our everyday life. We may need to mend the pieces of a broken relationship. We may need to take some of the time we hoard so tightly for work and lavish it on our children or friends. We may be called to respond to the cry of the poor, to feed the hungry, to shelter the homeless, or to visit the prisoner. All these can rightly be discerned as God's prompting to a freer life.

"But the ongoing process of discernment, which I think is the more subtle invitation of the Lenten season, is not always so straightforward. It involves a radical and risky self-evaluation and a commitment to rethink and rework everything you know you are. God is always calling us out of ourselves, into a more generous freedom, so that we can love and serve ourselves and one another more authentically.

"What does that freedom look like for each of us this season? We might have images in our minds as to what we ideally should be. But perhaps soemtimes the ideal is less important that the real. The spiritual life is not a generic undertaking, despite the fact that it is often characterized as such. Rather, it involves the unique encounter of a particular woman or man in her or his concrete history and circumstances with the God who dared and continues to dare to be incarnate in human form. The spiritual life is never twice the same. Always utterly new, always surpising, the human meeting with God through the discernment of spirits invites us to become listeners to God's voice heard among the multitude of voices crowding the human heart. We must be open to hear the surprising message it may bring." (p. 32-34)

18. Life's List

Learn sign language. Reach proficiency in Spanish. Reach proficiency in many languages--French, Japanese, Russian, German, Chinese, Hebrew, Greek, Korean, Polish, Italian, Portuguese, Arabic, etc! Use them. Learn to play the piano. Read anything and everything I can get my hands on, at least once. Run. Get a gym membership and use it. Donate 10 feet to Locks of Love (multiple donations, of course! I think I'm at about 3 right now). Bake amazingly. Cook well. Sky dive (or bungee jump). Write a book. Maybe publish it. Teach English as a second language. Travel the world, or travel a small part of it. See absolute poverty. Be changed by it. Work to change it. Live in some place I never thought I'd live. Love. Be loved. Get married. Have children. Study the Bible. Go on a road trip. Sleep on the beach. Take a ballroom dancing lesson. Make pottery. Write a letter to the editor. Do yoga. Be on retreat for thirty days. Vote. Walk ten miles (or more). Sew a quilt. Plant a garden. Go white-water rafting. Learn to knit. Be crafty. Set up a computer by myself. Stop biting my nails. Work with an adult literacy program. Sing without caring how it sounds. Dance without caring how I dance. Take an African dance class. Sew an outfit. Work for a non-profit. Be organized, if only for a day. Learn to ride a bike. Learn to ski. Go to France and eat nothing but bread, cheese and pastries. Drink nothing but champagne. Fall in love with a cause, or several. Be changed by loving it and being active in it. Host another exchange student, or several. Give up shopping for a year. Realize how many blessings I have. Keep my friends and family close. Graduate from school, college and seminary. Seek ordination. Live, laugh, love and eat a good deal of dark chocolate and Ben & Jerry's ice cream.

17. Sharing Memories

My grandpa passed away last Monday. The funeral preparations have been made and done with. Family has arrived and gone. Countless food dishes have come and been eaten. Sympathy cards have piled in. Our answering machine has been full. I feel surrounded by love and support; I really do, and it has been an utterly amazing blessing. I know he is at peace, but to be honest, I'm still struggling with his death, and think I will be for a while. He was such a large part of our lives, of my life, especially over these past months, and this is the longest I've ever gone without seeing him, talking to him, or writing to him. I miss his presence. I miss his voice. I miss the twinkle in his eye when he winked.

My grandpa was a teacher--by profession as a woodshop teacher, but foremost as one who was always learning and wanted to spread it to everyone around him. Every new thing he learned was something everyone got to hear at least twice. His causes--collecting pop can tabs for the local chapter of American legion, St. Jude's Children's Hospital, Saginaw Valley State University--were dear to his heart and always on the tip of his tongue. His passions for history and other cultures spread too. He got a black belt at age 66. He took physical fitness and computer classes at the local university. His daily question for me was, "What did you learn today?" It didn't matter whether it was a school day or not.

My grandpa was one of the first who taught me to question. I remember once when I asked him why the "p" in raspberry was silent. After looking it up, he decided it wasn't silent after all--we'd all been wrong! He had me tell everyone I knew, and he spread the word too. Eventually, of course, our supposition was proved false, but I will always remember what it felt like one of the first times I felt like I had been part of making a discovery that no one else had made.

He was stubborn, but so am I (and at least I know I have a legitimate source for it!) He swore, yelled, lashed out, but taught me patience. I think I will always know that I learned how to nurture from him first.

I'm sure there's more to come...

In closing, the words of "You are Mine" that played with Grandpa's pictures during visitation (Italics are mine):

I will come to you in the silence,
I will lift you from all your fear.
You will hear my voice,
I claim you as my choice,
Be still and know I am here.

Do not be afraid, I am with you.
I have called you each by name.
Come and follow me
I will bring you home;
I love you and you are mine.

I am hope for all who are hopeless,
I am eyes for all who long to see.
In the shadows of the night,
I will be your light,
Come and rest in me.

Do not be afraid, I am with you.
I have called you each by name.
Come and follow me
I will bring you home;
I love you and you are mine.

I am strength for all the despairing,
Healing for the ones who dwell in shame
All the blind will see,
The lame will run free,
And all will know my name.

Do not be afraid, I am with you.
I have called you each by name.
Come and follow me
I will bring you home;
I love you and you are mine.

I am the Word that leads all to freedom,
I am the peace the world cannot give.
I will call your name,
Embracing all your pain,
Stand up, now walk, and live!

Do not be afraid, I am with you.
I have called you each by name.
Come and follow me
I will bring you home;
I love you and you are mine.

"Do not be afraid I am with you" played with the pictures of me as a child smiling and laughing with Grandpa.

For someone so active before the rapid onset of dementia, these words seem so fitting, "I will call your name/embracing all your pain/stand up, now walk, and live!"

All cliche aside, God has called Harry E. Martin, Jr. back to life.

Grace & Peace

16. What privileges have you had?

As found at Mary Beth's place. Here is a game developed by Jeanne of Social Class and Quakers, based on the copyrighted exercise developed by Will Barratt, Meagan Cahill, Angie Carlen, Minnette Huck, Drew Lurker, Stacy Ploskonka at Illinois State University.

If you play and post, please acknowledge their copyright.

Bold items are privileges I have had.

Father went to college
Father finished college
Mother went to college
Mother finished college
Have any relative who is an attorney, physician, or professor.
Were the same or higher class than your high school teachers
Had more than 50 books in your childhood home
Had more than 500 books in your childhood home
Were read children's books by a parent
Had lessons of any kind before you turned 18
Had more than two kinds of lessons before you turned 18
The people in the media who dress and talk like me are portrayed positively
Had a credit card with your name on it before you turned 18
Your parents (or a trust) paid for all of your college costs
Went to a private high school
Went to summer camp (sports and church camps)
Had a private tutor before you turned 18
Family vacations involved staying at hotels
Your clothing was all bought new before you turned 18
Your parents bought you a car that was not a hand-me-down from them
There was original art in your house when you were a child it was done by family friends
Had a phone in your room before you turned 18
You and your family lived in a single family house
Your parent(s) owned their own house or apartment before you left home
You had your own room as a child
Participated in an SAT/ACT prep course
Had your own TV in your room in High School
Owned a mutual fund or IRA in High School or College
Flew anywhere on a commercial airline before you turned 16
Went on a cruise with your family
Went on more than one cruise with your family
Your parents took you to museums and art galleries as you grew up
You were unaware of how much heating bills were for your family