Spurred on by my readings in The Feminine Face of God, I decided to attend a Full Moon Circle this week. It's an all-women spirituality group that I've only been to a handful of times. This week's theme was about thin places; places that are personally sacred. We each went around the room and shared heartfelt stories about where we have felt close to the sacred. The locations spanned the whole world. Some of mine include the beach in Belize I've written about before as well as mountains in general, especially The Blue Ridge Parkway. After sharing about my own thin places and hearing about other people's, I became worried. All the thin places I could imagine were either in the past or not some place I could easily access. Several people spoke of thin places that were special and sacred to them now. I racked my brain and realized a surprising thin place for me: prayer. Not prayer by myself, which I admittedly don't practice very often, at least not in the traditional sense. Art, writing, and singing are my personal prayers. I'm talking about the prayers I say with other people, usually in my role as a Chaplain, worship leader, or with my family.
As a Chaplain, I pray with my patients and their families. In my current cultural location, my prayers often reflect the most common theological perspectives here. It's taken me a while to become comfortable doing so. Mostly, my language reflects a theology that is not part of my current beliefs and yet, strangely, has still felt authentic for me. My discomfort has mostly been present because I haven't been able to understand how I could believe differently and yet feel so authentic in prayer. Recently, in The Feminine Face of God, I came across a phrase from a woman who was once a Roman Catholic nun who left her order and has since pursued painting images of the goddess as a reflection of her spirituality. "My Catholic heritage and environment have been like a beautiful river flowing over my subterranean foundation in God the Mother," she writes in her introduction to The Mother's Songs, "The two movements are not in conflict, they simply water different layers in my soul." They simply water different layers in my soul. Yes, absolutely. This helped me find language for why I can feel personally different from the beliefs of my patients and yet can authentically and whole-heartedly pray with them and their families along our varied theological perspectives; because it waters my soul to do so and connects me with my foundational and initial belief system.
In worship settings, I typically am praying among other Unitarian Universalists and therefore the language I get to embrace reflects my current beliefs. It becomes a combination of prayer, meditation, and guided imagery. It feels comfortable and peaceful. It's almost as though I zone out. I seek the words that feel the most fitting and reflective of the mood, theme, and feeling of the service of which the prayer is a part. Sometimes, it takes me a moment to reemerge into the present moment. But typically I still remain connected to the sacred like the smoke of birthday candles that continue to waft through the air even after the flames have been blown out.
With my family, I'm usually asked to say a blessing before meals. One or both of my parents usually ask me to do this. I think they do it because of my vocation as a Chaplain. They used to try to ask my husband to do it, but Dan doesn't feel comfortable when being put on the spot like that. Over time, it has become my role and is seen as an honor. I embrace as one. Traditionally, in this cultural location, many families have a patriarch lead family prayers. I appreciate and value that my family challenges this tradition.
One last family prayer memory. I've written about it before, but it particularly stands out because it combined my role as a Chaplain and as a family member - as a granddaughter, daughter, niece, and wife. When my grandmother was dying last year, my mom asked me to pray for her. She asked me to do so because she sensed that my grandmother, her mother, needed a minister to provide care. And there I was, the Chaplain Granddaughter, present, willing and able. I accepted the challenge of my mom's request and sang several old hymns and ended them with a prayer. My grandmother died very shortly afterward. I like to think that my prayer comforted my grandmother and offered her peace, as well as provided love and compassion for my family present in the room.
Prayer with others is one of my thin places. It's a sacredness I have access to on a regular basis. I'm grateful for having this particular thin place and becoming aware of it. Thank you to all the women who were a part of this recent, personal discovery.
Blessed be.
Showing posts with label Chaplaincy. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Chaplaincy. Show all posts
Thursday, June 12, 2014
Monday, May 19, 2014
Womanhood and Moving Forward
As I was continuing my reading of The Feminine Face of God last night, I was struck by a couple passages I wanted to share here.
The first: "We had to ask, What is the face of God that can be revealed through women? We proposed to look for the answers to this question by studying the life stories of thirty women across North America who were recognized in their communities as sources of spiritual inspiration."
The question at the center of the authors' research is very interesting. What IS the face of God that can be revealed through women? I'm so curious about the results they found because they've alluded to similarities among the responses. I hope to connect with some of the feelings and thoughts that were shared. Their intention was to interview 30 women, but in the end they interviewed more than 100.
As for myself, my first thoughts are that my own spirituality and femininity is tied up with nature. I wonder if this has something to do with our menstrual cycles naturally lining up with the moon cycle? Very clearly, there is a connection and physical pull tied in with the rhythm of nature.
When reading that they were planning to interview women who were "recognized in their communities as sources of spiritual inspiration" I was brought up short. I work as a hospice and hospital chaplain everyday. But would I be considered a source of "spiritual inspiration" within the community? I just don't know. It made me realize that I would like to continue the steps within the Unitarian Universalist Association to be "fellowshipped," which is the process by which ministers in the UU Church are endorsed by the larger association. It's what ordination is in many other church organizations.
To have this support and endorsement would make me feel like a larger part of the faith tradition of which I've chosen to belong. It's the difference between being a Chaplain who is Unitarian Universalist and being a Unitarian Universalist Chaplain. The problem is, I have a difficult time trying to navigate the process that I'm coming at sideways. I wish I could have an advisor and guide as one does in college to help sort through the requirements of particular degree programs. But if I don't take any steps, I'll never get anywhere. So I've reached out to a couple of people regarding writing me letters to help me sidestep a part of the process which I'm hoping will be deemed unnecessary considering how many years I've been in ministry as a Chaplain.
The last set of thoughts I want to get out for this blog post is about my need to connect with feminism and my own personal womanhood. I'm pretty sure it has to do with my desire to become a mom and my uncertainty whether or not my life path will include that role. Do I believe that women can be wholly feminine without being a mother? Of course! But I find that this is an expression of womanhood of which I hope to be a part. In the meantime, I want to connect with what it means to be a woman without being a mother. I was born into this group and want to more fully embrace what that could mean. Moreover, I want to more intentionally become a part of the spirituality of womanhood. Which brings me to the other concept brought forth by The Feminine Face of God.
The authors explain that at the beginning of their time together trying to map out their research for the book, they "walked outside and sat down opposite each other under the protective branches of a large oak tree. And there we did something we were to do almost every day for the next several years of our collaboration. We closed our eyes, sat in silence, and waited." I don't always feel connected to myself and my spirituality in silence, but I do think it's worth making time to settle into to deep thinking, listening, and feeling of the sacred. And the idea of doing this with someone else seems worthy of the vulnerability and openness that would inevitably be required.
More thoughts to come!
The first: "We had to ask, What is the face of God that can be revealed through women? We proposed to look for the answers to this question by studying the life stories of thirty women across North America who were recognized in their communities as sources of spiritual inspiration."
The question at the center of the authors' research is very interesting. What IS the face of God that can be revealed through women? I'm so curious about the results they found because they've alluded to similarities among the responses. I hope to connect with some of the feelings and thoughts that were shared. Their intention was to interview 30 women, but in the end they interviewed more than 100.
As for myself, my first thoughts are that my own spirituality and femininity is tied up with nature. I wonder if this has something to do with our menstrual cycles naturally lining up with the moon cycle? Very clearly, there is a connection and physical pull tied in with the rhythm of nature.
When reading that they were planning to interview women who were "recognized in their communities as sources of spiritual inspiration" I was brought up short. I work as a hospice and hospital chaplain everyday. But would I be considered a source of "spiritual inspiration" within the community? I just don't know. It made me realize that I would like to continue the steps within the Unitarian Universalist Association to be "fellowshipped," which is the process by which ministers in the UU Church are endorsed by the larger association. It's what ordination is in many other church organizations.
To have this support and endorsement would make me feel like a larger part of the faith tradition of which I've chosen to belong. It's the difference between being a Chaplain who is Unitarian Universalist and being a Unitarian Universalist Chaplain. The problem is, I have a difficult time trying to navigate the process that I'm coming at sideways. I wish I could have an advisor and guide as one does in college to help sort through the requirements of particular degree programs. But if I don't take any steps, I'll never get anywhere. So I've reached out to a couple of people regarding writing me letters to help me sidestep a part of the process which I'm hoping will be deemed unnecessary considering how many years I've been in ministry as a Chaplain.
The last set of thoughts I want to get out for this blog post is about my need to connect with feminism and my own personal womanhood. I'm pretty sure it has to do with my desire to become a mom and my uncertainty whether or not my life path will include that role. Do I believe that women can be wholly feminine without being a mother? Of course! But I find that this is an expression of womanhood of which I hope to be a part. In the meantime, I want to connect with what it means to be a woman without being a mother. I was born into this group and want to more fully embrace what that could mean. Moreover, I want to more intentionally become a part of the spirituality of womanhood. Which brings me to the other concept brought forth by The Feminine Face of God.
The authors explain that at the beginning of their time together trying to map out their research for the book, they "walked outside and sat down opposite each other under the protective branches of a large oak tree. And there we did something we were to do almost every day for the next several years of our collaboration. We closed our eyes, sat in silence, and waited." I don't always feel connected to myself and my spirituality in silence, but I do think it's worth making time to settle into to deep thinking, listening, and feeling of the sacred. And the idea of doing this with someone else seems worthy of the vulnerability and openness that would inevitably be required.
More thoughts to come!
Friday, September 21, 2012
Further Connection and a Homily in Progress
So...
I wrote about my friend who proposed an intentional covenant of connection via weekly emails and monthly snail mail. So far, it's absolutely wonderful. To know that my emails will be read with care and responded to is so healing. Many times, I've tried to email, text, or call people in my world but haven't heard back from them. There's only so long that that kind of one-sided connection can last before it fizzles.
My friend said my enthusiastic response to her proposal gave her the confidence to make communication offers with other people. She has three more people who she'll be trying to stay in touch with in similar ways. With her encouragement, I decided to be brave and invite two of my other friends into the circle of connection.
So here's what I'll be doing!
With Tracy (the originator of this fantastic idea): I'll be receiving emails from her on Tuesdays and responding to them on Wednesdays. In addition, I'll be sending her a piece of real mail at least once a month.
With Kody: I'll be emailing him on Sundays. He's asked for two days of response time, so I'll be hearing back from him by Tuesdays. He also agreed to snail mail at least once a month and counter-proposed occasional packages as well!
With Kt: She liked the idea too, but said she writes enough emails in her life and would like to become...wait for it...actual pen pals, writing real mail to each other, trying for once a week.
So there you have it! The ways in which I hope to continue to be connected to my incredible friends. Now, I'd like to be intentional about spending time with Dan locally. Perhaps a guaranteed once a week walk? Away from anything with a screen to drag our attention away from each other.
Exciting.
On another note, I'm currently at a coffee shop getting my writing juices flowing with this blog because Sunday is my annual hospice memorial service. This is my once a year event where I invite everyone who has lost a loved one on our care for the past year to a memorial service that I have planned and facilitate. I think the event will be welcoming and hopefully healing for people. I have a local high school ensemble chorus who will be coming to share music with us. Dan's running the sound. My mom and Dan's mom are catering for the 2nd year in a row. The order of service has been printed beautifully thanks to one of my co-workers. I've received RSVPs to make me feel calmer about all the effort going into this event. The weather is supposed to be beautiful, which is excellent considering last year it POURED the day of.
Only thing left?
My homily.
It's also what was last minute for me last year. Damn procrastinating personality! It's just very difficult to write a homily that encompasses so many different people, both our deceased patients and their families. When I'm asked to do a service for a particular person, it's nice because I can focus on THEM. I can get personal stories, ask families what they want to have included, make the songs and words intentionally reflect particular people. But for dozens of different people and the staff that take care of them...much more difficult.
I want to focus on universal themes of loss and the trauma of death. Because frankly, death disrupts our lives. We're going along, living our day-to-day, then boom! Someone we love dies. And the truth of it is, no matter how many people tell you "It's going to be ok." there is, at least for a moment, a time where it doesn't feel that way. We live in a very death-denying society. With the transition of deaths to hospitals and nursing homes, (which are viable options, don't get me wrong) the feeling of someone dying has turned from being personal and family-oriented to stranger and machine-oriented. Hospice is trying to open up the possibility of people having the choice to die in their homes, surrounded by family, and photos, and memories, and love. In a personal way.
When someone dies in our culture, who is not a celebrity, I find that there is a stressful push to "be ok now!" We try to get back to "normal" as quickly as possible. At my HOSPICE job, it's written into the policy that employees receive "up to three days" of bereavement time at the death of a close loved one. And "close" only counts for parents, grandparents, and siblings. Really? Three days? Yeah, right. I think this is especially bogus when the person who we've lost because the sun of our universe...illness causing them to be the center of our world perhaps under very difficult circumstance and for an extended period of time.
While I want to acknowledge and make a sacred space for the losses, and the aching holes left behind, I also want to spend a good bit of time talking about love. There's a Forrest Church quote that I adore. It will be read by the hospice social worker before I homilize. I want this quote read at my own Memorial Service hopefully MANY years from now.
By the Reverend Forrest Church who was, before his passing, a Unitarian Universalist Minister:
"Every time we commit ourselves, every time we share ourselves with another...we risk so very much. We risk disappointment...we risk the enormous pain of loss. If we try to protect ourselves from suffering, we shall manage only to subdue the very thing that makes our lives worth living. Though we can, by a refusal to love, protect ourselves from the risk of losing what or whom we love, the irony is, by refusing to love we will have nothing left that is really worth protecting."
In other words, the only way we can avoid the pain of grief is also by avoiding the joy of love.
And I, for one, do not believe that my life would be worth a lick of beans, as they say here in the south, if I didn't have people to love and who loved me. My ideas about god change and evolve over the years, but one thing I have been consistent on believing is that there is evidence of divine love present in the love of my family and my friends. They are the embodiment of sacred connection, hope, and love. Without them, I feel depressed and disconnected. I feel like there is nothing worthwhile. But with them I feel full and whole. I soar and can expand to a fuller potential. I can make a difference in the world because of their love.
And when I lose someone I love, then their memory, and even my guilt and regrets, spark within me a desire to live better. To love more. To tell the people I care about how grateful I am for them. Each life, and even each death, alters my life perspective. They turn the course of my life path, sometimes a little and sometimes a lot.
Each of the people coming to the service on Sunday has been affected by death in the past year. More than anything I want their losses to be acknowledged and for them to feel cared for and safe. And I want for them to eat delicious food, because I fully believe there is something ancient and wonderful about sharing a meal with people.
Well this blog certainly has gotten my writing juices flowing just like I'd hoped! I've even been going back and forth from my homily writing while typing it. Now, I plan to focus more exclusively on my homily, praying that something loving and comforting will result.
If you have any thoughts please leave me a comment. Otherwise, until next time!
Blessings,
Kelley
I wrote about my friend who proposed an intentional covenant of connection via weekly emails and monthly snail mail. So far, it's absolutely wonderful. To know that my emails will be read with care and responded to is so healing. Many times, I've tried to email, text, or call people in my world but haven't heard back from them. There's only so long that that kind of one-sided connection can last before it fizzles.
My friend said my enthusiastic response to her proposal gave her the confidence to make communication offers with other people. She has three more people who she'll be trying to stay in touch with in similar ways. With her encouragement, I decided to be brave and invite two of my other friends into the circle of connection.
So here's what I'll be doing!
With Tracy (the originator of this fantastic idea): I'll be receiving emails from her on Tuesdays and responding to them on Wednesdays. In addition, I'll be sending her a piece of real mail at least once a month.
With Kody: I'll be emailing him on Sundays. He's asked for two days of response time, so I'll be hearing back from him by Tuesdays. He also agreed to snail mail at least once a month and counter-proposed occasional packages as well!
With Kt: She liked the idea too, but said she writes enough emails in her life and would like to become...wait for it...actual pen pals, writing real mail to each other, trying for once a week.
So there you have it! The ways in which I hope to continue to be connected to my incredible friends. Now, I'd like to be intentional about spending time with Dan locally. Perhaps a guaranteed once a week walk? Away from anything with a screen to drag our attention away from each other.
Exciting.
On another note, I'm currently at a coffee shop getting my writing juices flowing with this blog because Sunday is my annual hospice memorial service. This is my once a year event where I invite everyone who has lost a loved one on our care for the past year to a memorial service that I have planned and facilitate. I think the event will be welcoming and hopefully healing for people. I have a local high school ensemble chorus who will be coming to share music with us. Dan's running the sound. My mom and Dan's mom are catering for the 2nd year in a row. The order of service has been printed beautifully thanks to one of my co-workers. I've received RSVPs to make me feel calmer about all the effort going into this event. The weather is supposed to be beautiful, which is excellent considering last year it POURED the day of.
Only thing left?
My homily.
It's also what was last minute for me last year. Damn procrastinating personality! It's just very difficult to write a homily that encompasses so many different people, both our deceased patients and their families. When I'm asked to do a service for a particular person, it's nice because I can focus on THEM. I can get personal stories, ask families what they want to have included, make the songs and words intentionally reflect particular people. But for dozens of different people and the staff that take care of them...much more difficult.
I want to focus on universal themes of loss and the trauma of death. Because frankly, death disrupts our lives. We're going along, living our day-to-day, then boom! Someone we love dies. And the truth of it is, no matter how many people tell you "It's going to be ok." there is, at least for a moment, a time where it doesn't feel that way. We live in a very death-denying society. With the transition of deaths to hospitals and nursing homes, (which are viable options, don't get me wrong) the feeling of someone dying has turned from being personal and family-oriented to stranger and machine-oriented. Hospice is trying to open up the possibility of people having the choice to die in their homes, surrounded by family, and photos, and memories, and love. In a personal way.
When someone dies in our culture, who is not a celebrity, I find that there is a stressful push to "be ok now!" We try to get back to "normal" as quickly as possible. At my HOSPICE job, it's written into the policy that employees receive "up to three days" of bereavement time at the death of a close loved one. And "close" only counts for parents, grandparents, and siblings. Really? Three days? Yeah, right. I think this is especially bogus when the person who we've lost because the sun of our universe...illness causing them to be the center of our world perhaps under very difficult circumstance and for an extended period of time.
While I want to acknowledge and make a sacred space for the losses, and the aching holes left behind, I also want to spend a good bit of time talking about love. There's a Forrest Church quote that I adore. It will be read by the hospice social worker before I homilize. I want this quote read at my own Memorial Service hopefully MANY years from now.
By the Reverend Forrest Church who was, before his passing, a Unitarian Universalist Minister:
"Every time we commit ourselves, every time we share ourselves with another...we risk so very much. We risk disappointment...we risk the enormous pain of loss. If we try to protect ourselves from suffering, we shall manage only to subdue the very thing that makes our lives worth living. Though we can, by a refusal to love, protect ourselves from the risk of losing what or whom we love, the irony is, by refusing to love we will have nothing left that is really worth protecting."
In other words, the only way we can avoid the pain of grief is also by avoiding the joy of love.
And I, for one, do not believe that my life would be worth a lick of beans, as they say here in the south, if I didn't have people to love and who loved me. My ideas about god change and evolve over the years, but one thing I have been consistent on believing is that there is evidence of divine love present in the love of my family and my friends. They are the embodiment of sacred connection, hope, and love. Without them, I feel depressed and disconnected. I feel like there is nothing worthwhile. But with them I feel full and whole. I soar and can expand to a fuller potential. I can make a difference in the world because of their love.
And when I lose someone I love, then their memory, and even my guilt and regrets, spark within me a desire to live better. To love more. To tell the people I care about how grateful I am for them. Each life, and even each death, alters my life perspective. They turn the course of my life path, sometimes a little and sometimes a lot.
Each of the people coming to the service on Sunday has been affected by death in the past year. More than anything I want their losses to be acknowledged and for them to feel cared for and safe. And I want for them to eat delicious food, because I fully believe there is something ancient and wonderful about sharing a meal with people.
Well this blog certainly has gotten my writing juices flowing just like I'd hoped! I've even been going back and forth from my homily writing while typing it. Now, I plan to focus more exclusively on my homily, praying that something loving and comforting will result.
If you have any thoughts please leave me a comment. Otherwise, until next time!
Blessings,
Kelley
Wednesday, July 18, 2012
Being Someone's "Angel"
Recently, I was sitting with one of my hospice patients who told me she wanted to spend our time together watching "The Price is Right." Works for me! She made a specific request, and I got to fulfill her wish. This particular episode was entirely for nurses. Every person in the audience was a nurse. Most of you out there probably know that Drew Carey is now the host. As each person who became a contestant came down he would ask them what type of nursing they were in. One of the ladies said she was a hospice nurse. It was the first response to which he showed more than a little interest and he responded with something like, "Aw. My mom was on hospice and was taken care of by people like you. You guys are angels."
There it is. "You guys are angels."
Then another day recently, I saw a homeless man on the side of the road. My heart breaks every time this happens. I don't know what put this person there, but I'm more likely to assume it's systemic in its cause. So I bought him dinner and brought it to him. His name was Tom and he thanked me deeply and sincerely. Then he added, "I was praying God would send me an angel and then you showed up."
There it was again. Being someone's angel.
Today, I was visiting a patient I hadn't seen for several weeks. We sang old hymns together and I read to her from verses of the Bible she requested. She told me stories from her life and I sat there, trying to make out her words which are often soft and difficult to understand. As I was about to leave she held my hand, squeezed it with her fading strength and said, "You're my angel." It choked me up.
To her, I was her angel.
A phrase that I used to just brush aside with an embarrassed "thank you" has now stuck with me and has made me wonder: what are the qualities that make someone an "angel" to someone else?
I think kindness and compassion are two of the largest pieces. To be gentle, caring, and willing to sit and listen. To hold someone's hand who's feeling lonely or afraid. To make someone smile and laugh. To share yourself with them and make a deep, abiding connection. To give out of love and compassion. Maybe these are some of the characteristics of a modern-day angel. They seem to be what has brought forth this sweet description lately. I appreciate things that help me embrace the simple/deep/wonderful connections that I find the most valuable. I will continue to think about what it means to be someone's angel. But I will choose not to overthink it and lose the beauty and sweetness of the compliment.
I want to close out this entry with one of my favorite quotes. I think it's another worthy reminder of what is good, and lovely, and true:
“To laugh often and much; To win the respect of intelligent people and the affection of children; To earn the appreciation of honest critics and endure the betrayal of false friends; To appreciate beauty, to find the best in others; To leave the world a bit better, whether by a healthy child, a garden patch, or a redeemed social condition; To know even one life has breathed easier because you have lived. This is to have succeeded.” ~Ralph Waldo Emerson
Blessings,
Kelley
There it is. "You guys are angels."
Then another day recently, I saw a homeless man on the side of the road. My heart breaks every time this happens. I don't know what put this person there, but I'm more likely to assume it's systemic in its cause. So I bought him dinner and brought it to him. His name was Tom and he thanked me deeply and sincerely. Then he added, "I was praying God would send me an angel and then you showed up."
There it was again. Being someone's angel.
Today, I was visiting a patient I hadn't seen for several weeks. We sang old hymns together and I read to her from verses of the Bible she requested. She told me stories from her life and I sat there, trying to make out her words which are often soft and difficult to understand. As I was about to leave she held my hand, squeezed it with her fading strength and said, "You're my angel." It choked me up.
To her, I was her angel.
A phrase that I used to just brush aside with an embarrassed "thank you" has now stuck with me and has made me wonder: what are the qualities that make someone an "angel" to someone else?
I think kindness and compassion are two of the largest pieces. To be gentle, caring, and willing to sit and listen. To hold someone's hand who's feeling lonely or afraid. To make someone smile and laugh. To share yourself with them and make a deep, abiding connection. To give out of love and compassion. Maybe these are some of the characteristics of a modern-day angel. They seem to be what has brought forth this sweet description lately. I appreciate things that help me embrace the simple/deep/wonderful connections that I find the most valuable. I will continue to think about what it means to be someone's angel. But I will choose not to overthink it and lose the beauty and sweetness of the compliment.
I want to close out this entry with one of my favorite quotes. I think it's another worthy reminder of what is good, and lovely, and true:
“To laugh often and much; To win the respect of intelligent people and the affection of children; To earn the appreciation of honest critics and endure the betrayal of false friends; To appreciate beauty, to find the best in others; To leave the world a bit better, whether by a healthy child, a garden patch, or a redeemed social condition; To know even one life has breathed easier because you have lived. This is to have succeeded.” ~Ralph Waldo Emerson
Blessings, Kelley
Wednesday, November 2, 2011
"I know you're busy..." and Hospice vs. Hospital Chaplaincy
The title of this blog is much wordier than I normally aspire to, but those are exactly the topics in my head. Reminds me about a Mark Twain quote. Something like, "I would have written a shorter letter, but I didn't have time." Sounds about right. And for the moment, I'm just trying to get a few thoughts out with little to no editing.
First off, I've been hearing the phrase, "I know you're busy..." a lot. A lot, a lot. In context, it's usually said with love and understanding. For example, "I know you're busy, so you just let me know when we can meet." Or: "I know you're busy, so don't worry about the committee, we'll handle things." And while I'm grateful for this level of understanding, I feel both guilty to have rendered these phrases necessary and worried that "busy" is the word most associated with me at present.
I attended a funeral for a patient yesterday during which I learned much about the person before she got sick. It was enlightening to hear her described as "a perfectionist, with never a hair out of place. She was a loving Christian woman. She was a lady." In the midst of these accolades, I had a flash to my own funeral (not uncommon while working in hospice) and wondered, What are they going to say about me?! "Kelley...was busy."
When I was younger, I somehow associated "busy" with "important." When I came to the point of being a teenager, driving myself around, I had new freedom to go where I wanted and be involved in various activities. The thing is, I'm interested in so much, that if I have ANY desire to pursue any of them then I'm pulled in numerous directions. Even a skeletal look at my life is full.
At minimum, here is what my life consists of: Work, family, friends. (Not listed in order of importance. But actually listed in amount of time spent with each)
Added to that are many things I still believe are necessary: Church, reading, singing in 1-2 groups, making art, traveling.
But here's the thing. I love being involved in so many different things, that I never feel like I have enough energy or time to give of myself 100% to any particular task. This is even true for my job where I wear two hats. The result is that I feel like one or the other of my job is not getting everything it could or should out of me. In any given day, I have to change mental gears so many times that I often get internally dizzy trying to keep up. It's why I like lists. It streamlines things.
When I recently auditioned for a role in The Sound of Music, I was worried about adding so much extra via rehearsals. But one thing that it's done for me is narrow down my life a bit. For example, I've had to take a brief reprieve from one of my committees for the rest of the year. I discovered I was more relieved than sorry.
However, I still feel as though I'm running on fumes. I've never been someone who could just hone in on 1 or 2 things. It's seems to be in my nature to flit from one thing to another. For a time, I'll feel alive bounding back and forth between activities. But over time, it begins to wear me down. Not just physically, but emotionally as I worry incessantly that I'm not doing or being enough in any given situation. And then comes a spiral of worry, guilt, and fear of further consequences. Knowing this pattern, I'm trying to press on the brakes and either slow it down or divert it altogether.
Not only am I going back and forth between many events, people, and places, but within my one job I'm particularly stretched thin at the moment. Juggling between being a Chaplain and Bereavement Coordinator is beginning to resemble an impressive circus act of Barnem and Bailey caliber. Each week, I have to balance between making Chaplain visits, making Bereavement phone calls, and documenting all of these contacts. In addition, next week I'm starting a 6wk Holiday Support Group and have to have the 2nd draft of two mailings completed. We also have our occasional "lock down" days where all staff is on deck and we audit charts in office for 9 hrs. This is called QRR. And as it so happens, QRR, my first support group, and an out of town meeting all fell in the same week. Not only that, but our census (i.e., number of patients) is higher than it has been in a year.
And on top of that, several of our patients have passed away in just over a week. Many of them, I didn't even have the opportunity to get to know before they left this world. I have a deep sense of missing them even though we didn't know each other. And now my journey will begin with their families, through grief and mourning. Here's a moment of painful honesty: I feel like a good and qualified Chaplain. But I don't feel as qualified for bereavement care. It scares me and makes me feel like a fraud.
Another result of having so many people pass away all of a sudden, is that the lives of these people get jumbled in my mind. I didn't have the opportunity to meet some of them. Many were on our care for too short a time. And now, in their deaths, I feel sad that their stories are left unknown to me and that their names and faces blur together. They were individual people with their own life stories and self-worth. I believe they deserve to be remembered in their death and I hope to learn something about them through bereavement care with their families.
As a hospital Chaplain, this was a normal feeling. People would come in for somewhere between 2 and 4 days before they were discharged. When I made Chaplaincy visits, I may only have the first visit, because, even if I returned the very next day, many of them were gone. In a vocational sense, I had a difficult time narrowing down my purpose. I knew my role in the trauma room and with families awaiting news on their loved one. I knew my role in an ICU and with families trying to weigh options in literal life and death situations. But in typical, day-to-day Chaplain visits, my role was less clear to me, although I didn't have language for it at the time. If I had, this would have been a good topic to discuss with my CPE group.
As a hospice Chaplain, I feel a clearer sense of purpose. Here's what I imagine my role to be: I bring individualized components of faith and spirituality to hospice patients who no longer can attend a faith community. On the whole, my "interventions" as their called include reading from the Bible, singing sacred music, offering prayers, listening to stories from a person's life, watching TV with people so they're not alone, providing companionship, reading from other texts like poems or novels, holding a person's hand, having theological conversations, having silly conversations, laughing, and always trying to be kind and compassionate. And each of these interventions will look different depending on the recipient. I pray differently for a patient whose Southern Baptist than I do for a patient whose a Progressive Christian or doesn't associate with any particular faith group. My personal experience coupled with my education and training help me to discern what's most helpful and appropriate in various situations.
Lately though, facing so many deaths in a short amount of time, I've only had the opportunity to meet some of our patients once before their gone. When people find out I work for hospice, the responses usually include some version of the question, "Isn't it hard to be around death so much?" Normally, it's not. Because death, or Death, is not an extremely frequent visitor, only occasionally swooping in for a visit. But right now? Yes. It is hard. I want the opportunity to sit still and consider each deceased person individually and learn about them while caring for their loved ones throughout the next year.
This past Sunday at my church, in one of the homilies was this phrase: "We have traveled far and we have traveled fast. Now we must allow time for our souls to catch up with our bodies." Yes. That is what I need. All my running around seems to have left my spirit and soul behind. In my mind, I imagine a ragged-looking me gazing wistfully at my soul, dancing around, smelling flowers, twirling and giggling...she's just waiting for me to sit still long enough so we can reconnect properly. I can hardly imagine having entire days to work toward this enterprise. However, I will be more intentional in having many moments on a daily basis that let her, my soul, catch up with my body.
Blessed be.
First off, I've been hearing the phrase, "I know you're busy..." a lot. A lot, a lot. In context, it's usually said with love and understanding. For example, "I know you're busy, so you just let me know when we can meet." Or: "I know you're busy, so don't worry about the committee, we'll handle things." And while I'm grateful for this level of understanding, I feel both guilty to have rendered these phrases necessary and worried that "busy" is the word most associated with me at present.
I attended a funeral for a patient yesterday during which I learned much about the person before she got sick. It was enlightening to hear her described as "a perfectionist, with never a hair out of place. She was a loving Christian woman. She was a lady." In the midst of these accolades, I had a flash to my own funeral (not uncommon while working in hospice) and wondered, What are they going to say about me?! "Kelley...was busy."
When I was younger, I somehow associated "busy" with "important." When I came to the point of being a teenager, driving myself around, I had new freedom to go where I wanted and be involved in various activities. The thing is, I'm interested in so much, that if I have ANY desire to pursue any of them then I'm pulled in numerous directions. Even a skeletal look at my life is full.
At minimum, here is what my life consists of: Work, family, friends. (Not listed in order of importance. But actually listed in amount of time spent with each)
Added to that are many things I still believe are necessary: Church, reading, singing in 1-2 groups, making art, traveling.
But here's the thing. I love being involved in so many different things, that I never feel like I have enough energy or time to give of myself 100% to any particular task. This is even true for my job where I wear two hats. The result is that I feel like one or the other of my job is not getting everything it could or should out of me. In any given day, I have to change mental gears so many times that I often get internally dizzy trying to keep up. It's why I like lists. It streamlines things.
When I recently auditioned for a role in The Sound of Music, I was worried about adding so much extra via rehearsals. But one thing that it's done for me is narrow down my life a bit. For example, I've had to take a brief reprieve from one of my committees for the rest of the year. I discovered I was more relieved than sorry.
However, I still feel as though I'm running on fumes. I've never been someone who could just hone in on 1 or 2 things. It's seems to be in my nature to flit from one thing to another. For a time, I'll feel alive bounding back and forth between activities. But over time, it begins to wear me down. Not just physically, but emotionally as I worry incessantly that I'm not doing or being enough in any given situation. And then comes a spiral of worry, guilt, and fear of further consequences. Knowing this pattern, I'm trying to press on the brakes and either slow it down or divert it altogether.
Not only am I going back and forth between many events, people, and places, but within my one job I'm particularly stretched thin at the moment. Juggling between being a Chaplain and Bereavement Coordinator is beginning to resemble an impressive circus act of Barnem and Bailey caliber. Each week, I have to balance between making Chaplain visits, making Bereavement phone calls, and documenting all of these contacts. In addition, next week I'm starting a 6wk Holiday Support Group and have to have the 2nd draft of two mailings completed. We also have our occasional "lock down" days where all staff is on deck and we audit charts in office for 9 hrs. This is called QRR. And as it so happens, QRR, my first support group, and an out of town meeting all fell in the same week. Not only that, but our census (i.e., number of patients) is higher than it has been in a year.
And on top of that, several of our patients have passed away in just over a week. Many of them, I didn't even have the opportunity to get to know before they left this world. I have a deep sense of missing them even though we didn't know each other. And now my journey will begin with their families, through grief and mourning. Here's a moment of painful honesty: I feel like a good and qualified Chaplain. But I don't feel as qualified for bereavement care. It scares me and makes me feel like a fraud.
Another result of having so many people pass away all of a sudden, is that the lives of these people get jumbled in my mind. I didn't have the opportunity to meet some of them. Many were on our care for too short a time. And now, in their deaths, I feel sad that their stories are left unknown to me and that their names and faces blur together. They were individual people with their own life stories and self-worth. I believe they deserve to be remembered in their death and I hope to learn something about them through bereavement care with their families.
As a hospital Chaplain, this was a normal feeling. People would come in for somewhere between 2 and 4 days before they were discharged. When I made Chaplaincy visits, I may only have the first visit, because, even if I returned the very next day, many of them were gone. In a vocational sense, I had a difficult time narrowing down my purpose. I knew my role in the trauma room and with families awaiting news on their loved one. I knew my role in an ICU and with families trying to weigh options in literal life and death situations. But in typical, day-to-day Chaplain visits, my role was less clear to me, although I didn't have language for it at the time. If I had, this would have been a good topic to discuss with my CPE group.
As a hospice Chaplain, I feel a clearer sense of purpose. Here's what I imagine my role to be: I bring individualized components of faith and spirituality to hospice patients who no longer can attend a faith community. On the whole, my "interventions" as their called include reading from the Bible, singing sacred music, offering prayers, listening to stories from a person's life, watching TV with people so they're not alone, providing companionship, reading from other texts like poems or novels, holding a person's hand, having theological conversations, having silly conversations, laughing, and always trying to be kind and compassionate. And each of these interventions will look different depending on the recipient. I pray differently for a patient whose Southern Baptist than I do for a patient whose a Progressive Christian or doesn't associate with any particular faith group. My personal experience coupled with my education and training help me to discern what's most helpful and appropriate in various situations.
Lately though, facing so many deaths in a short amount of time, I've only had the opportunity to meet some of our patients once before their gone. When people find out I work for hospice, the responses usually include some version of the question, "Isn't it hard to be around death so much?" Normally, it's not. Because death, or Death, is not an extremely frequent visitor, only occasionally swooping in for a visit. But right now? Yes. It is hard. I want the opportunity to sit still and consider each deceased person individually and learn about them while caring for their loved ones throughout the next year.
This past Sunday at my church, in one of the homilies was this phrase: "We have traveled far and we have traveled fast. Now we must allow time for our souls to catch up with our bodies." Yes. That is what I need. All my running around seems to have left my spirit and soul behind. In my mind, I imagine a ragged-looking me gazing wistfully at my soul, dancing around, smelling flowers, twirling and giggling...she's just waiting for me to sit still long enough so we can reconnect properly. I can hardly imagine having entire days to work toward this enterprise. However, I will be more intentional in having many moments on a daily basis that let her, my soul, catch up with my body.
Blessed be.
Tuesday, October 18, 2011
In a Holding Pattern
I feel the need to vent a little about a cyclical problem I'm having. It's going to take a little back story, so please be patient while I get to the current issue.
I began seminary in August 2005. At the time I called myself a "disgruntled Methodist." I was raised in the United Methodist Church and it was a wonderful place to grow up. My church of origin was full of love and support. However, as I began being introduced to new ideas and religious perspectives in college, my worldview and religious views began to morph and transform. The end result was that scholarly views of reading the Bible made more sense to me than an inerrant, infallible reading. Learning about Biblical stories in their historical context changed how I viewed them. They retained meaning, but with new depth built upon history, reason, and years of scholarly research. However, what I learned in school did not match what was/is taught in most Christian churches. Bishop John Shelby Spong wrote in his recent article for Huffington Post "The contrast between the way the Bible is understood in the academic world and the way it is viewed in our churches is striking." In my experience, this is very much true. I have found a spiritual connection in the academic world more so than in most churches.
But I digress...
After graduating from college, I spent a year in the work force doing a job that was a very poor fit. For those of you who know me well, imagine me sitting in a cube all day calculating numbers from various formulas. The primary person-to-person interactions I had with coworkers occurred when things went wrong. And I had a very conflict avoiding boss who would leave sticky notes on people's desks rather than talk to them face to face to resolve problems. What this did was inspire me to look ahead and try to find something better. I began applying to seminaries. I knew if I got in, I would be moving away from North Carolina as the four schools were in California, Colorado, New Jersey, and Georgia. The best fit by far was Claremont school of Theology in California. After hearing back from all the schools, I started at Claremont and began my education as "a disgruntled Methodist" as mentioned above.
What I mean by that phrase is, I still considered myself a part of my church of origin, but no longer felt it was a good fit. And when people asked me what church I belonged to, I felt the need to explain further. "I'm United Methodist, but..." For example, "I'm United Methodist, but I'm my church is against having openly gay clergy and I think that's wrong." That was the largest point of contention. But it was more than that. I found myself inspired by multiple religions and wanted a place where this concept was not only tolerated but accepted and encouraged. In seminary was where I met my first Unitarian Universalists. The more I learned over the years, the better a fit it seemed.
Here's more...
When I began my time at CST, I was in the Masters of Divinity (MDiv) program. When I began pastoral care classes, I sought to change my degree to an Master of Arts in Pastoral Care and Counseling. I spoke with the admissions counselor, who was the person I needed to go through in order to make this change. She strongly discouraged me from doing so. Her primary reason for trying to persuade me otherwise was that most faith groups required an MDiv for any type of ordination. One known exception was the United Methodist Church who required their ordained Deacons to have a masters degree, but not necessarily an MDiv.
Now here's where the problem really begins. Because of my headstrong, you-can't-tell-me-what's-best-for-me attitude, I changed degree programs anyhow. I reasoned that I did not feel called to ordination and that if I changed my mind or felt something different in the future, then I could become a UMC Deacon.
I continued in my degree program, taking the most remarkable classes from very interesting and intelligent professors. I embraced my first role as a Chaplain at Santa Monica UCLA Medical Center and Orthopedic Hospital. I learned so much about Chaplaincy and myself during that CPE internship. I went on to be a Pastoral Counseling Intern at The Clinebell Institute. Ultimately, I learned that pastoral care and chaplaincy was a better fit for me than formal counseling.
I completed my degree, having worked hard to more fully learn about pastoral care and counseling in my classes and experiences. I still did not feel a call to ordination. As graduation neared, I was searching desperately for a job. At that time, Dan came across a poster advertising a Hospice Bereavement Coordinator position in Palm Springs. I interviewed for the job, but did not get it. However, that experience led me the company that ultimately became my first hospice employer.
I officially went into to Chaplaincy and grew in my pastoral identity while caring for people in very emotional and heart-wrenching times. I gained confidence in my ability to be calm in the midst of chaos and to provide spiritual care for a people from various religious backgrounds. I have since worked at a second hospital through a CPE Residency Program and am currently working as a Hospice Chaplain and Bereavement Coordinator. The job, company, and my coworkers are an incredible fit. I feel like I am able to bring my education, experience, personality, and intuition to my job on a daily bases.
However, I am still not ordained. And I am now strongly feeling a call to become so. In the UUA, the process is called Fellowshipping, where I would be officially endorsed by our governing body.
But there are many obstacles. Which brings me to the present and the reason for this post in the first place. And because I like lists and they help me sort through things, here is my list of woe. (Dramatic aren't I?)
And the final side of this (for now) is that in addition to all of the above, Dan and I both want to start a family in the near-ish future. But we currently can't afford to and if I pursue all of the above, it's going to push off us starting a family even longer. This is something I become more potently aware of each time I learn another friend is pregnant for the first and sometimes the second time.
So I feel stuck. And sad. I want to be fully embraced as clergy. As it is, even though I do ministry daily, I feel "less than" other ministers because of my lack of title. I don't feel like I should wear clergy collars or robes. I call myself a Chaplain, but am reluctant to introduce myself as a Minister. And I'm not fully connected in the UU Church like I want to be. I'm not fully supported or endorsed.
When I met with people from the Ordination Office of the UUA, they said people being landlocked was the biggest problem people had in moving forward with ministry aspirations. I certainly fit into that grouping. And truly, I get so overwhelmed by it all that it's difficult take the next step. Or even figure out what the next step is.
As of today I've contacted the Ministerial Credentialing Director Unitarian Universalist Association to see if we can talk via the phone or skype to figure out what my next step will be. I just hope that when the time comes for me to make a decision about what's next, I'll be able to do so...
I began seminary in August 2005. At the time I called myself a "disgruntled Methodist." I was raised in the United Methodist Church and it was a wonderful place to grow up. My church of origin was full of love and support. However, as I began being introduced to new ideas and religious perspectives in college, my worldview and religious views began to morph and transform. The end result was that scholarly views of reading the Bible made more sense to me than an inerrant, infallible reading. Learning about Biblical stories in their historical context changed how I viewed them. They retained meaning, but with new depth built upon history, reason, and years of scholarly research. However, what I learned in school did not match what was/is taught in most Christian churches. Bishop John Shelby Spong wrote in his recent article for Huffington Post "The contrast between the way the Bible is understood in the academic world and the way it is viewed in our churches is striking." In my experience, this is very much true. I have found a spiritual connection in the academic world more so than in most churches.
But I digress...
After graduating from college, I spent a year in the work force doing a job that was a very poor fit. For those of you who know me well, imagine me sitting in a cube all day calculating numbers from various formulas. The primary person-to-person interactions I had with coworkers occurred when things went wrong. And I had a very conflict avoiding boss who would leave sticky notes on people's desks rather than talk to them face to face to resolve problems. What this did was inspire me to look ahead and try to find something better. I began applying to seminaries. I knew if I got in, I would be moving away from North Carolina as the four schools were in California, Colorado, New Jersey, and Georgia. The best fit by far was Claremont school of Theology in California. After hearing back from all the schools, I started at Claremont and began my education as "a disgruntled Methodist" as mentioned above.
What I mean by that phrase is, I still considered myself a part of my church of origin, but no longer felt it was a good fit. And when people asked me what church I belonged to, I felt the need to explain further. "I'm United Methodist, but..." For example, "I'm United Methodist, but I'm my church is against having openly gay clergy and I think that's wrong." That was the largest point of contention. But it was more than that. I found myself inspired by multiple religions and wanted a place where this concept was not only tolerated but accepted and encouraged. In seminary was where I met my first Unitarian Universalists. The more I learned over the years, the better a fit it seemed.
Here's more...
When I began my time at CST, I was in the Masters of Divinity (MDiv) program. When I began pastoral care classes, I sought to change my degree to an Master of Arts in Pastoral Care and Counseling. I spoke with the admissions counselor, who was the person I needed to go through in order to make this change. She strongly discouraged me from doing so. Her primary reason for trying to persuade me otherwise was that most faith groups required an MDiv for any type of ordination. One known exception was the United Methodist Church who required their ordained Deacons to have a masters degree, but not necessarily an MDiv.
Now here's where the problem really begins. Because of my headstrong, you-can't-tell-me-what's-best-for-me attitude, I changed degree programs anyhow. I reasoned that I did not feel called to ordination and that if I changed my mind or felt something different in the future, then I could become a UMC Deacon.
I continued in my degree program, taking the most remarkable classes from very interesting and intelligent professors. I embraced my first role as a Chaplain at Santa Monica UCLA Medical Center and Orthopedic Hospital. I learned so much about Chaplaincy and myself during that CPE internship. I went on to be a Pastoral Counseling Intern at The Clinebell Institute. Ultimately, I learned that pastoral care and chaplaincy was a better fit for me than formal counseling.
I completed my degree, having worked hard to more fully learn about pastoral care and counseling in my classes and experiences. I still did not feel a call to ordination. As graduation neared, I was searching desperately for a job. At that time, Dan came across a poster advertising a Hospice Bereavement Coordinator position in Palm Springs. I interviewed for the job, but did not get it. However, that experience led me the company that ultimately became my first hospice employer.
I officially went into to Chaplaincy and grew in my pastoral identity while caring for people in very emotional and heart-wrenching times. I gained confidence in my ability to be calm in the midst of chaos and to provide spiritual care for a people from various religious backgrounds. I have since worked at a second hospital through a CPE Residency Program and am currently working as a Hospice Chaplain and Bereavement Coordinator. The job, company, and my coworkers are an incredible fit. I feel like I am able to bring my education, experience, personality, and intuition to my job on a daily bases.
However, I am still not ordained. And I am now strongly feeling a call to become so. In the UUA, the process is called Fellowshipping, where I would be officially endorsed by our governing body.
But there are many obstacles. Which brings me to the present and the reason for this post in the first place. And because I like lists and they help me sort through things, here is my list of woe. (Dramatic aren't I?)
- The Unitarian Universalist Association (UUA) requires an MDiv or its educational equivalent for ordination/fellowshipping
- As stated above, I have an MA in Pastoral Care and Counseling rather than an MDiv, which is more of a problem than you'd think. In order to prove I have the educational equivalent, I would likely have to take classes online from one of the two UU seminaries which I currently cannot afford.
- The UUA also requires a church internship for ordination/fellowshipping
- As I mentioned, I have completed two internships and a residency in ministry. But I have not interned at a church.
- To get an internship at a church I would probably need to move because the only church locally is the one I am a member of, and I've been told (understandably) that I could not be an intern there because I am too connected and people could not be impartial toward me.
- To move, I would have to leave my current job which I love and get a significant level of satisfaction from.
- Moving would also take me away from my family, who were the big reason I moved to begin with.
- All this would be to gain the title of the Rev. Kelley Wheat-Rivers
- But the end result would be that I would want a job exactly like the one I already have and am loathe to leave.
- If something should happen to my current job or company, I would, of course need to pursue work elsewhere. And the fact is that most Chaplaincy positions require ordination/denominational endorsement. It just so happened that my current position did not.
And the final side of this (for now) is that in addition to all of the above, Dan and I both want to start a family in the near-ish future. But we currently can't afford to and if I pursue all of the above, it's going to push off us starting a family even longer. This is something I become more potently aware of each time I learn another friend is pregnant for the first and sometimes the second time.
So I feel stuck. And sad. I want to be fully embraced as clergy. As it is, even though I do ministry daily, I feel "less than" other ministers because of my lack of title. I don't feel like I should wear clergy collars or robes. I call myself a Chaplain, but am reluctant to introduce myself as a Minister. And I'm not fully connected in the UU Church like I want to be. I'm not fully supported or endorsed.
When I met with people from the Ordination Office of the UUA, they said people being landlocked was the biggest problem people had in moving forward with ministry aspirations. I certainly fit into that grouping. And truly, I get so overwhelmed by it all that it's difficult take the next step. Or even figure out what the next step is.
As of today I've contacted the Ministerial Credentialing Director Unitarian Universalist Association to see if we can talk via the phone or skype to figure out what my next step will be. I just hope that when the time comes for me to make a decision about what's next, I'll be able to do so...
Thursday, November 11, 2010
Good Fit Thus Far
Short note dropping in to say that Hospice has been a good fit so far. I have been healing from my previous hospice work, been getting to know my colleagues, and been doing caring work that connects me to people. I've really appreciated the practicality and openness of my boss, and HER boss. And I adore that I'm still in a ministerial role and get to discuss spiritual thoughts, pray, listen, and be with people. Soo grateful.
Saturday, October 16, 2010
New Chapter and a Vocation of Love
This morning I woke up with a greater sense of purpose than I typically have as of late. I'm approaching a new phase in my life. This "in-between" time didn't last as long as I expected, and somewhat feared.
This has been my life for the last couple of months:
I completed my Chaplain Residency at New Hanover Regional Medical Center on August 20th. On August 21st my dad's sister passed away. She had been sick for a while. I thought I was more prepared for her dying, but it rocked me worse than I could have imagined. The following couple of weeks were spent in harsh grief, helping my parents go through her apartment, and trying to be there for my dad. Meanwhile, I continued to try and look for a job. I had some interviews, but nothing really came of them. I didn't even tell my family about some of the interviews, because the outlook of so many didn't look good, and therefore I was less torn down than I would have been having to share the "I didn't get the job news" repeatedly.
I did interview for a Hospice Chaplain position, but weeks went by and I didn't hear anything. But, it turns out there had been some internal inquiry about the job and eventually, I was offered the position. I begin on Monday. Right now, I'm working my last on-call shift at NHRMC. I can really feel the end of this particular chapter closing. It's an odd feeling, but I'm glad I'm aware of it.
I have mixed feelings about going into hospice again. Hospice is a wonderful gift. It's an incredible, loving service and I will be proud to be a part of it again. But Hospice is also a narrower ministry. Not narrow in depth. But narrower in that it is singularly focused on end-of-life. Hospital Chaplaincy was a bit more broad. While still crisis ministry, there was hope and healing mixed in. Parish Ministry is the ministry I have discerned seems to be the best fit for me. Someday... But in the meantime, I am gratefully surprised that I can still don the current title of "Chaplain" having supposed I would have to temporarily relinquish a ministerial title.
And that's what's going on with me.
In broader, national news, there have been several suicides among gay teens that has led to a growing awareness of bullying both in schools and in society at large. Ellen Degeneres, in particular, has been asking many of her guests about their own experiences with bullying. These deaths and the treatment of gay youth has sparked in me such an indignant anger that I have been spinning my wheels trying to think of things to do. Facebook has been a helpful outlet for me. I can share with this larger social network my beliefs that Gay, Lesbian, Bisexual, Transgender, Intersex, Queer, Questioning, and Allied persons deserve love, care, compassion, and equal rights. I have been told from more than one person on facebook that I have my facts wrong and that "The Bible says...". But as a person with theological training, I believe the Bible was written in a particular social context and historical time. And though I absolutely believe that it has wonderful relevance for many in the present, I do not think it should be used to devalue people who were born non-heterosexual.
The local University in my town had a rally and vigil this week sponsored by the GLBTQIA (Gay, Lesbian, Bisexual, Transgender, Questioning, Intersex, Ally) Resource Office. I created four new posters for marriage (and life!) equality. I was grateful to unite with so many people and to feel like I was DOING something in response to all the hate that led to so many suicides.
I was also so proud of my Unitarian Universalist faith, because not only were many people from my local congregation present, but our minister was as well. She wore a clerical collar, easily distinguishing her as clergy in the masses. She had been asked to say a prayer. Prior to doing so, she shared that her experience from a bully was from the head of her religious group, who taught that people "like me" she said, were unnatural and wrong. She told the crowd that that was NOT so. She prayed not only for the people are are/were bullied, and the families of those who have lost or taken their lives because of hate, but also for the bullies. After her prayer, several people came up to her...one girl said something before collapsing into a hug. I wondered how many people had hurt this young girl. And further, how many of them represented a religious point of view. My minister was there to show her love. And this girl wasn't the only one to receive it.
I wonder how many people are unaware that there is a liberal religious faith like Unitarian Universalism that thinks that all people have worth and dignity, regardless of their sexual orientation. I felt a renewed sense of calling as I watched people approach my minister and ordination mentor, ask her about her church and receive her love and support...I wondered about the healing that began at the rally.
I absolutely want to become an ordained minister. I want to be someone whose life and love represents not only a larger religious organization, but also something Holy. I believe in a loving Spirit. I call it God. I call it the Universe. I call it Love. Religion has been used to hurt and divide. I want people to feel loved for exactly who they are. May it be so.
May all my liberal Christian ministers and friends have their loving voices heard. May their lives and their ministries shower people with love and acceptance. And may their care and openness increase in volume. I add this to acknowledge that Unitarian Universalism is not the only loving religious home for people who are GLBTQQIA. Gene Robinson, a bishop in the Episcopal Church was one minister who spoke up in youtube's "It Gets Better" campaign. You can hear him here: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=mPZ5eUrNF24
Here are some other links of interest:
Fort Worth City Councilman, Joel Burns sharing his "It Gets Better" story: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ax96cghOnY4
The Trevor Project: http://www.thetrevorproject.org/
Personal account from my CST colleague, Casey Crosbie: http://www.travelpod.com/travel-blog-entries/caseygcrosbie/1/1286387828/tpod.html?utm_source=FB&utm_medium=FBMTB&utm_content=FBStreamPostTitle
Mormon leader gives Anti-Gay sermon after suicides. Here's a link to write an open letter in response, and to view the sermon: https://secure3.convio.net/hrc/site/Advocacy?cmd=display&page=UserAction&id=945
Human Rights Campaign: http://www.hrc.org//
I'm still looking for loving responses to the hate. And I shall continue to look, act, and love.
This has been my life for the last couple of months:
I completed my Chaplain Residency at New Hanover Regional Medical Center on August 20th. On August 21st my dad's sister passed away. She had been sick for a while. I thought I was more prepared for her dying, but it rocked me worse than I could have imagined. The following couple of weeks were spent in harsh grief, helping my parents go through her apartment, and trying to be there for my dad. Meanwhile, I continued to try and look for a job. I had some interviews, but nothing really came of them. I didn't even tell my family about some of the interviews, because the outlook of so many didn't look good, and therefore I was less torn down than I would have been having to share the "I didn't get the job news" repeatedly.
I did interview for a Hospice Chaplain position, but weeks went by and I didn't hear anything. But, it turns out there had been some internal inquiry about the job and eventually, I was offered the position. I begin on Monday. Right now, I'm working my last on-call shift at NHRMC. I can really feel the end of this particular chapter closing. It's an odd feeling, but I'm glad I'm aware of it.
I have mixed feelings about going into hospice again. Hospice is a wonderful gift. It's an incredible, loving service and I will be proud to be a part of it again. But Hospice is also a narrower ministry. Not narrow in depth. But narrower in that it is singularly focused on end-of-life. Hospital Chaplaincy was a bit more broad. While still crisis ministry, there was hope and healing mixed in. Parish Ministry is the ministry I have discerned seems to be the best fit for me. Someday... But in the meantime, I am gratefully surprised that I can still don the current title of "Chaplain" having supposed I would have to temporarily relinquish a ministerial title.
And that's what's going on with me.
In broader, national news, there have been several suicides among gay teens that has led to a growing awareness of bullying both in schools and in society at large. Ellen Degeneres, in particular, has been asking many of her guests about their own experiences with bullying. These deaths and the treatment of gay youth has sparked in me such an indignant anger that I have been spinning my wheels trying to think of things to do. Facebook has been a helpful outlet for me. I can share with this larger social network my beliefs that Gay, Lesbian, Bisexual, Transgender, Intersex, Queer, Questioning, and Allied persons deserve love, care, compassion, and equal rights. I have been told from more than one person on facebook that I have my facts wrong and that "The Bible says...". But as a person with theological training, I believe the Bible was written in a particular social context and historical time. And though I absolutely believe that it has wonderful relevance for many in the present, I do not think it should be used to devalue people who were born non-heterosexual.
The local University in my town had a rally and vigil this week sponsored by the GLBTQIA (Gay, Lesbian, Bisexual, Transgender, Questioning, Intersex, Ally) Resource Office. I created four new posters for marriage (and life!) equality. I was grateful to unite with so many people and to feel like I was DOING something in response to all the hate that led to so many suicides.
I was also so proud of my Unitarian Universalist faith, because not only were many people from my local congregation present, but our minister was as well. She wore a clerical collar, easily distinguishing her as clergy in the masses. She had been asked to say a prayer. Prior to doing so, she shared that her experience from a bully was from the head of her religious group, who taught that people "like me" she said, were unnatural and wrong. She told the crowd that that was NOT so. She prayed not only for the people are are/were bullied, and the families of those who have lost or taken their lives because of hate, but also for the bullies. After her prayer, several people came up to her...one girl said something before collapsing into a hug. I wondered how many people had hurt this young girl. And further, how many of them represented a religious point of view. My minister was there to show her love. And this girl wasn't the only one to receive it.
I wonder how many people are unaware that there is a liberal religious faith like Unitarian Universalism that thinks that all people have worth and dignity, regardless of their sexual orientation. I felt a renewed sense of calling as I watched people approach my minister and ordination mentor, ask her about her church and receive her love and support...I wondered about the healing that began at the rally.
I absolutely want to become an ordained minister. I want to be someone whose life and love represents not only a larger religious organization, but also something Holy. I believe in a loving Spirit. I call it God. I call it the Universe. I call it Love. Religion has been used to hurt and divide. I want people to feel loved for exactly who they are. May it be so.
May all my liberal Christian ministers and friends have their loving voices heard. May their lives and their ministries shower people with love and acceptance. And may their care and openness increase in volume. I add this to acknowledge that Unitarian Universalism is not the only loving religious home for people who are GLBTQQIA. Gene Robinson, a bishop in the Episcopal Church was one minister who spoke up in youtube's "It Gets Better" campaign. You can hear him here: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=mPZ5eUrNF24
Here are some other links of interest:
Fort Worth City Councilman, Joel Burns sharing his "It Gets Better" story: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ax96cghOnY4
The Trevor Project: http://www.thetrevorproject.org/
Personal account from my CST colleague, Casey Crosbie: http://www.travelpod.com/travel-blog-entries/caseygcrosbie/1/1286387828/tpod.html?utm_source=FB&utm_medium=FBMTB&utm_content=FBStreamPostTitle
Mormon leader gives Anti-Gay sermon after suicides. Here's a link to write an open letter in response, and to view the sermon: https://secure3.convio.net/hrc/site/Advocacy?cmd=display&page=UserAction&id=945
Human Rights Campaign: http://www.hrc.org//
I'm still looking for loving responses to the hate. And I shall continue to look, act, and love.
Wednesday, June 16, 2010
On Call Calling
Part of my Residency Program is to work on call about once a week. Last night I had two calls. I was up from 3:45am onward. And while I'm exhausted and will be sleeping soon for who knows how long, I can honestly say that I feel like I made a difference in the visits I was a part of. And that feeling like I was a calming, compassionate person feels good. I hope the thought that I mattered to these people in their crises will help me rest well.
Peace.
Peace.
Tuesday, June 15, 2010
To Dream, Wonder and Imagine
Currently, I'm in a CPE Residency program. For two Units I was under the supervision of a woman, E. I got pretty close to her during that time, learning about myself and exploring my vocational calling. For the third Unit of my Residency, we changed supervisors. My new supervisor, C, has been a relative unknown over the past several months. Quiet, but when she spoke, I always noticed a depth. It intrigued me. I decided to choose openness when approaching this new supervisory relationship.
I'm not quite sure why, but I already feel more comfortable with C. I find it easy to be honest and truthful with her. But I think my favorite side effect of this new relationship is her encouragement for me to dream. After our last meeting, she told me she wanted me to take some time and stop thinking about my vocational calling in terms of jobs that I knew about. Rather, she wanted me to dream with no boundaries. I was fascinated and excited! I approached it as a new spiritual practice, often using my journal as the recipient.
Over the next few days, however, I learned something that was both surprising and discouraging. I learned that it's so much harder for me to dream than it used to be! I had no idea! But over the last several years, voices (from myself and internalized from others) have battered me with questions like, "What are you going to do?" "How is that practical?" "How will you make a living with that?" and so forth. I increasingly felt inadequate when I couldn't answer. I used to dream and not try to figure out those answers right away. And I made leaps of faith that turned into some of the best decisions of my life. But during this last week, I had to consistently battle that voices of reason, doubt, and skepticism. The truth is, while I want to be a responsible adult, I don't want to be "reasonable" all the time. I was to dance, play, dream, laugh, wonder and imagine! No barriers!
How will I know if the ideal situation comes along if I haven't let myself dream what that would look like?
For this unit, I made some of the most personal goals of all four units of my CPE history. They are as follows:
1) I want to learn to be more self-aware
2) I want to more fully embrace my own uniqueness
3) I would like to learn more about my gifts for ministry (and I would like to add "for life") and how to develop them
Among the steps for each of these goals are: to do things that regularly connect me to myself like play, color, draw, sing, dance, drum, imagine, read, and do yoga and to be honest and truthful in my interactions. My goals feel like me. I was worried when I presented them because I felt vulnerable. But my group had no qualms about them. This was an example of a time when I felt leery about sharing something because I thought I would be criticized. Instead, it was no big deal. I really do think that I worry more than is necessary.
And the prescription for my worry? For now it's to dream, wonder and imagine...
I'm not quite sure why, but I already feel more comfortable with C. I find it easy to be honest and truthful with her. But I think my favorite side effect of this new relationship is her encouragement for me to dream. After our last meeting, she told me she wanted me to take some time and stop thinking about my vocational calling in terms of jobs that I knew about. Rather, she wanted me to dream with no boundaries. I was fascinated and excited! I approached it as a new spiritual practice, often using my journal as the recipient.
Over the next few days, however, I learned something that was both surprising and discouraging. I learned that it's so much harder for me to dream than it used to be! I had no idea! But over the last several years, voices (from myself and internalized from others) have battered me with questions like, "What are you going to do?" "How is that practical?" "How will you make a living with that?" and so forth. I increasingly felt inadequate when I couldn't answer. I used to dream and not try to figure out those answers right away. And I made leaps of faith that turned into some of the best decisions of my life. But during this last week, I had to consistently battle that voices of reason, doubt, and skepticism. The truth is, while I want to be a responsible adult, I don't want to be "reasonable" all the time. I was to dance, play, dream, laugh, wonder and imagine! No barriers!
How will I know if the ideal situation comes along if I haven't let myself dream what that would look like?
For this unit, I made some of the most personal goals of all four units of my CPE history. They are as follows:
1) I want to learn to be more self-aware
2) I want to more fully embrace my own uniqueness
3) I would like to learn more about my gifts for ministry (and I would like to add "for life") and how to develop them
Among the steps for each of these goals are: to do things that regularly connect me to myself like play, color, draw, sing, dance, drum, imagine, read, and do yoga and to be honest and truthful in my interactions. My goals feel like me. I was worried when I presented them because I felt vulnerable. But my group had no qualms about them. This was an example of a time when I felt leery about sharing something because I thought I would be criticized. Instead, it was no big deal. I really do think that I worry more than is necessary.
And the prescription for my worry? For now it's to dream, wonder and imagine...
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