and I learned to dance with the fear that I'd been running from

This week’s #FridayFive’s prompt is Fear/Fearless.  Over on MrsDisciple.com, Kelly writes about the truths that she fights fear with – truths given by God to his people through the Bible.  It’s a really good post – plus a great giveaway!  You should all go over there and read it too – okay?  Okay!
Fear is a tricky thing.  It creeps up on you and can keep you from living well.  It’s a real emotion that stems from places of deep feeling – deep love and deep hurt.  Fear of losing loved ones, fear of being alone, fear of sickness, tragedy, not living up to your potential.  Fear is real, even when we don’t think it is, and the best way we can deal with it is to face it head on.   So for my #FridayFive, I present….

#FridayFive – Ways to live Fearless

I’m no master.  But I have dealt with some major fear in my life and at some point I had to look it in the eye and tell it that it wasn’t going to hold me back anymore.  (And then keep doing it over and over again.) Here are five things or ways I deal with fear in my life.
The promises of God
(Like I said at the top, go read Kelly’s post for more on this one) The Bible is full of some great truths on God’s desires for our lives.  He desires the best, he wants us to be whole and complete – but we live in a broken world.  Things happen to us, in us, through us that cause deep deep pain.  That’s what fear comes from, the deep pain we’ve either already experienced or have seen others experience.  But when we read God’s words we know that he wants us to have the beautiful and free life, that one day we will be fully reconciled.  We will have shalom – wholeness.  We rest assured on the promises of God.
The Presence of God
I did a Beth Moore study once where she talked about fear.  She encouraged us to name our biggest fear.  To fill in the blank – If ___________ happens then _________.  The first blank is where our fear goes and the second one she filled in with “God.”  As if to say, if our biggest fears came true, then God.  He will help us to pick up the pieces.  About a week after that happened, my greatest fear actually happened.  And she was right – God was there.  His presence was so tangible in my life during that time and it helped me to walk through it.  And even though now the blank has new fears in it, I can point back to what he’s already done and say – I’d be okay.  It would hurt, but I’d be okay.
My People
That’s what I call my community.  My closest friends and family.  In the words of Jen Hatmaker – they’re my tribe.  My people.  And they help me to live fearlessly because I know they have my back.  They are the best encouragers, the best listening ears, the best prayers.  They are my ride or die people.  They help me to see the beauty in my life, even in the midst of pain.  They are real and vulnerable and they speak such truth and kindness into my life.  I can look fear in the face because I know on either side of me, I’m flanked by my people.
The Beauty of Creation
Jesus tells his followers in the Gospels not to worry because God’s got it.  Then he points to creation all around him to demonstrate his point.  God has made this world around us to live in such harmony, he has orchestrated such rhythms – how can I not see that he can orchestrate rhythm from my chaos.  Or what I see as chaos.  In him all things are possible – even the healing of a broken heart.
Laughter
It really is the best medicine.  Whenever I’m feeling the pull of fear, the weight of this world crushing in all around me – I just seek out some laughter.  I call home and ask for my silliest niece.  I call up my friends and say I need to dance it out.  Sometimes you need to cry, to talk it all out.  But other times you just need to let go and laugh.  You just need a reminder that life is good and that for this moment, you’re okay.  And then you just take a moment at a time.
Fear is real.  Don’t let anyone downplay your fears.  But when you look them in the eye, you can live fearless.  What helps you to live fearless?

you feel like my favorite song

FridayFive-Button It’s #FridayFive time!  This week’s prompt is Smiles.  I like this one, it leaves a lot open to interpretation.  But over on her site, my friend Kelly describes it as a chance to take stock and be thankful throughout the week.  We don’t have to wait until Thanksgiving to be thankful for the people and things in our lives that make us smile.  So here’s my interpretation of #FridayFive – Smiles

#FridayFive – Smiles 

Excuse me Pastor Alicia
This past Sunday was a busy morning for me.  A lot of Sundays are busy but this one was especially busy because our Worship Director was out of town which mean that the upfront things we usually divide between three people were divided between two.  I had a lot of up front pieces and I was teaching in our Kids Club classroom as well.  My mind was racing for most of the morning.  There was this particular moment though that made me smile … I was standing in the hallway, talking to a member of our congregation when I suddenly felt this presence beside me.  It was one of our elementary kids standing about two feet to my left staring up at me and patiently waiting for me to be done talking.  I looked down at him and said hi and this huge grin spread across his face.  He just wanted to tell me there were lemons on the Hospitality table and that he had eaten 7 already … before service had even started.
There are SO many aspects of my job that I love but this one, the moments where my kids come up to me with an agenda – a moment from their week, a story about their teacher, a question about life – these moments are my favorite.  I love their little smiles and wide eyes as they watch for my reaction, wait for me to respond.  I love it so much.
Uncontrollable Laughter in Youth Group
We had middle school youth group this week.  One thing I love about these kids is that they are at that age where they get together and there is no controlling them.  I’m not saying our kids are disrespectful – they really aren’t. But there are these moments when I’m trying to talk about something with them and they get on a train of thought and just can’t get off.  Then someone says something funny and it just derails.  The laughter that comes after these moments is one of my favorite sounds.  They just can’t help it.  It’s contagious too because I look around at my leaders and they are all laughing too.  Seriously, if you need a good laugh, come sit in on youth group – you won’t regret it.
HI TIA – I LOVE YOU TIA – BYE TIA!
I try to touch base with my nieces every week, at least one moment where they hear my voice telling them that I love them.  Even if it’s quick, even if it’s just on speaker phone as they are going to school.  On a good week I get a whole conversation with each of them, telling me about their lives.  On a not so great week I get my middle niece saying “Are you ready to be done talking to me now?”  But I can’t hold it against her, she’s five and her attention span is not great.
But I’ve been noticing this trend with my youngest niece.  She’s been conditioned on what to say when she’s talking to me.  It’s probably because for a while she was learning to talk so my mom would say “Say I love you Tia” and she would repeat.  Now she will literally get on the phone and say “Hi Tia – I love you Tia – Bye Tia” and be done.  It’s hilarious and I love it.  Other times she kidnaps the phone and just babbles for five minutes.  There is no in between – what a joy 2 years old life is!
Long reunion hugs
I have a great group of friends. I’ve said it before.  But Monday morning found me having coffee and work time with a friend who is also a youth pastor.  I hadn’t seen her in a few weeks so when I got to her house, our hug was so long – like we hadn’t seen each other in weeks.  It was so good to be with her, talking about ministry, about life, about relationships – she’s a dear confidante and I can’t believe I am lucky enough to call her my friend and colleague in ministry.
Similarly, the previous Friday I hung out with our other two friends and the same thing happened.  I opened the door and was immediately embraced – and interrogated on the weeks we’ve been apart.  I wouldn’t trade these three women for the world.
A good ole fashion knowing smile
Ever have one of those moments where you’re in a group of people and something happens and you meet the eye of someone in the group and you share that smile – the one that says a whole lot without any words behind it.  I love those – I love the relationships behind them.  I had several of those this week and I loved each and every one of them.
What are your Five Smiles from this week?  What things made you smile and be appreciative of the world around you?

Something in me would not let me turn and run

Finding community has always been really hard for me.  Partially because I’m a pastor and the statistics on pastors’ loneliness are enough to shock us into reality.  Partially because I’ve been really wounded in that area by people that I thought were friends.  But about 2 years ago I found my stride here in Chicago.  I had found my people and felt fulfilled.
Then my Roomsmate moved to California.  So I pressed into another group, focusing all my “excess” energy there.  Then my other two best friends moved to Seattle.  I wasn’t used to being left, I had always been the leaver in the past.  I never thought about what it would mean to put roots down in a place and have others leave around me.  It was heartbreaking saying goodbye to the people who had loved me so well and who got me on such a deep level.
I’ve posted a lot about Jen Hatmaker recently, and about this book she’s written called For the Love and this Launch Team I’m been a part of since March.  Up until now I haven’t been able to fully put into words what this new community has really meant to me.  Maybe because on some level, I thought it was really weird that we had this online community of women (and 4 men) that were basically pouring their hearts and souls out for one another on Facebook.
But then I went to Austin.  And I finally got the words.
Yes, online relationships aren’t usually that real.  So I went into the weekend with very little expectations of what my interactions with these other women would be.  I didn’t have any time ahead of the weekend to really focus on making sure I knew people’s name or stories, I only knew about 9 really that well.
From the moment I got in the car at the airport to the moment I boarded the plane back home, we were on the go and meeting people.  It was overwhelming, even for this extrovert.  But as I watched all these interactions happening around me I realized, this community was real.  This community was the kind of community that people dream of, the kind of community we want to have in our churches and in our lives.
I had some of the deepest conversations with girls that I had just officially “met” a day ago.  I knew people’s bents and hurts in the church before I even knew their last names.  I knew what they were struggling with before I even knew what tv shows they watch.  We prayed for each other, we cried together, we laughed together and when we got back on our planes pointed all over the country, we hugged each other tight and promised to keep in touch.  It was beautiful.  It was the Church.
And then I came back home and I got into my friend’s car who picked me up from the airport and I realized the beauty in this relationship.  God brought this new friend to me when so many loved ones had left me.  She and her sister have encircled me in their arms, invited me into their group and allowed me to be me.
As we sat around the fire the next night with another dear new friend, I realized something.  I had found another community.  And this new one, I have to attribute to For the Love.  I was tired of complaining about now having my people around me.  I had gotten tired of being sad that Seattle and California were so far away and I started to invest in something tangible.  Now these three women are my people.
And I’m seeing that happen within the Launch Team.  These 496 women and 4 men have poured deeply into this community and are now taking that back to their lives.  What if all of us take this message of grace and community back to our lives?  What kind of movement could that start?  If we start to live out of love rather than fear of not being accepted?
So here’s my real endorsement for the book, no fluffy language or vague references, just my real life opinion of this book that brought my heart back to life:
For the Love is a reminder to all of us that in this world, it is hard to be a woman in this world.  We are created for community but we have been conditioned to compare, to tear down and to be envious of what we are not.  We have made an imaginary list of what it really means to be a good woman, friend, mom, wife, single person and we are trying to live up to that list.  Every chapter may not hit you were you are currently at, but if you dig in deep, it will help you remember the grace that has been bestowed upon you as a child of God.  And it will help you to find that grace for others.  It just might change your whole approach to life, if you let it.
IMG_2504

I Just Want To Make Something Beautiful

Yesterday as I sat in the plane and stared at the blank page before me I was speechless. I had the task of writing out what these last few months as part of the For The Love Launch Team has meant to me.
I stated at the page for a long time. The dark plane was quiet and there I sat with my little light on recounting all the moments.
From the moment I got the email saying I was chosen, to the moment I said yes to the Facebook group page, to many prayer requests, heart shares, meet ups and discussions to now – boarding a plane to Austin to celebrate this amazing Launch with 200+ of my fellow FTL ladies.
This group of women have become a little community of encouraging, joking, teasing, praying sisters (and some brothers). I am so thankful for this group that has become exactly what Jen has been talking about in this book. Exactly what we need more of today in our world.
And what’s more is this group gave me what I needed to move in my own world. To take what I’ve been experiencing virtually and create it in my life physically with some amazing ladies I’ve begun to do life with. It’s been amazing.
So here’s to a weekend meeting in person for the first time all of these ladies who have loved me well from afar these past few months. And getting to squeeze Jen Hatmaker around the neck!!!

colour me in

I heard a discussion recently on these new emojis that Apple has released that range the full spectrum of racial diversity… well probably not the full spectrum but the fullest you can probably get on a little emoji head.  It was a discussion about how people are “supposed” to use these emjois, are we supposed to be the emoji, or is the emoji the person we are texting, or are we just referring to random people who are just sort of out there and therefore can be any race?
The conversation got really interesting as they continued to reach out to their white friends and ask this question – what emoji choice do you make?  And what does that choice say about you?
I, for one, have always struggle with my racial identity.  Well, almost always.  Being bi-racial in a predominately white world has mostly caused questions in my world, from me and from others.  There came a point where I started to resent the assumption of being white.  I can’t fully explain what that means fully – it probably has something to do with losing my dad, and the idea that identifying as white is in some way forsaking him and his history.
But identifying fully as a Latina, that has it’s baggage too.  It means that I’m shutting down the other half of my family – even though we don’t know our heritage as well on that side of my family.  Add into this midst my internationally adopted goddaughter whom feels more a part of me than anyone I’m blood related to.  I look at pictures of our family and I see a beautiful mosaic.
Represented in our little family are many cultures, many worlds.  And it is so beautiful to me, to us.  We cherish it with open arms and hearts.  We don’t see different races when we look at each other, we just see family.
But outside in the “real world” – the story doesn’t feel as beautiful.  I try to fill out my ethnic background on forms and I find myself asking those same questions.  Please – just give me a bi-racial box.  Give me a Multi-Ethnic option.  And some forms have, to which I am so grateful to proudly check that box.
So when Apple gave us options for emojis, I admit – I was excited.  I wanted something to represent my skin tone better.  And I know that sounds weird.  I know that sounds like I’m putting too much stock into those dumb little cartoons that I use to jazz up my texts…  but in a world where I get asked “what are you?”  Where people look to me to raise my minority flag but also feel free to mock me for liking tacos and salsa.  Where I see my goddaughter mocked for the color of her skin at a young age.  Where I hear her struggle through what it means to be Asian and to be proud of a culture she left at a young age.
In a world where race tensions are still entirely too present, whether purposely malicious or ignorantly neglectful, I sometimes just need a win. I’m not going to say it’s a win for all minorities.  I wouldn’t dream to make an assumption for every person of color.  But for me, a tiny little emoji that gets closer to my brown hair and darker skin, is a win.
This post’s title comes from a Damien Rice song, I discovered it while writing this post and it hit, it hit my heart so hard.  I’m still processing it, but sometimes my struggle with my own racial identity feels like the tension in this song.  I’ve had moments when I feel like I’m trying my hardest to help people see things through my eyes and it ends in pain, when I’ve been looking for Christ’s love in others but when the love of others has let me down.  I’ve often confused it with Christ’s love letting me down.  But I realize his love will never let me down.  But as followers of him, our love lets others down all the time.  We do it wrong.  And I know that I’m called to love others through the tension – but it’s so hard at times.
But I have to keep trying.  To love others through this racial reconciliation journey, and when it’s hard to love, I have to rely on Christ’s love for others through me.  I pray his love can shine through me stronger than my own frustrations.

our whispered words are louder than bombs

I have a very clear memory from a solitude retreat I took my second year of Seminary.  It comes back to me frequently, like a still voice from the Spirit reminding me to keep myself in check.
I was taking a walk through the neighborhood by the church I was currently attending (that I now work at).  I was walking past all of these cute houses with kids playing in the yard and I felt that feeling that most single girls of a certain age feel… I want that.  I don’t want to be stuck here in Seminary.  I want to be in my call.  I want to know where I’ll be spending the rest of my life (or just the first chapter).  I want to know who I will be spending it with.  I want to have the wrap around porch where I can sit with my friends and watch our kids play.  I don’t want this – I want that.
Then a line from the Shauna Niequist book I was reading at the time rang through my ears, “Don’t try to fast forward yourself into a future you haven’t yet earned.”  (From Bittersweet).
I didn’t know then that that neighborhood would be one I would drive through several times a week once I received my first call.  That neighborhood would be one I would take prayer walks in with our kids on our All Church Retreat.  That neighborhood would be canvased by me, alongside our leadership team and staff.
That moment floods back to me a lot.  When I see someone or some situation that I wish I had in my life, Shauna’s words continue to ring true in my ears.  It reminds me that I still have a great life to live right here right now.  All that stuff awaits me in the future – maybe, who knows?  I know there are things in life that I want to have, that I want to experience.  And I know that my God loves me and wants to give me the desires of my heart – in his way, in his timing.
I know someone who says that when we’re waiting it’s because God still has something left to teach us.  The immature person in me wants to tell God I’ve learned enough – I’m ready for my hearts’ desires.  But the mature person in me tells me that there are mountains of lessons to learn before I’m fully ready for that next step.  I’m still in process, as hard as it is to admit – it’s true.
Jesus tells us not to worry in the Sermon on the Mount (See Matthew 6).  He tells us to “Seek the Kingdom of God above all else, live righteously and he will give you everything you need.  Don’t worry about tomorrow, for tomorrow will bring its own worries.  Today’s trouble is enough for today.”
Some days I need to repeat this to myself multiple times.  Some days I live it out without reminders.  And plenty of days fall in between the two extremes.  I just continuously remind myself that in a world where I’m told my worth is determined by whether or not I have a ring on that finger and kids in tow, those messages are not from God.  That is a future that I have not yet earned.  For now, I will seek the Kingdom of God above all else, try my hardest to live righteously and trust in the fact that He will give me what I need, when I need it.

nobody loves me quite like you love me

A few posts ago I wrote about a writing contest that I entered over at Hello Giggles.  It was a writing contest call “Tales from a Bestie” and I wrote a piece on my former Roomsmate and how we met.  It felt good to right it, to reflect on our first weeks and months of friendship.
I was not, however, chosen as one of the finalists.  Although I read the posts that were chosen and they were seriously good!
I did, however, get an e-mail back from them asking me to pitch some ideas for the website.  They said they liked my voice and thought I had an interesting point of view.  Which was cool to hear since I tend to think my point of view isn’t all that special.  But maybe because I see it everyday.
I’ve been trying to put myself out there more, in the writing world.  I’m trying new things and making myself put my ideas out there.  But it’s hard, friends.  It’s hard to look at the world around me and think so many thoughts but then to write them down in a way that others would be interested/challenged/whatever.  But I want to keep trying, so we’ll see.
I have other writing news that I’ll be sharing in the next couple of days, but for now, here’s the piece I wrote on the Rooms, for your reading enjoyment.


 
Relationships are full of moments.  Significant ones that change everything like a cannonball into the deep end and insignificant ones like a drop into an ocean.  Most of them go unnoticed in the real world.  There aren’t any orchestras following us around to swell and crash when something is happening that we should take notice of, like in the movies.
Imagine with me for a moment – picture a grad school orientation in a small room full of chairs and a podium, the walls lined with coffee, tea and assorted pastries.  It’s late August in Chicago which means you could cut the humidity with a knife, every window in the room is open but it doesn’t help the stale summer air circulate.   As I walk in, I instantly feel the social pressure of the situation.  A room full of mostly twenty somethings all wearing name tags and mingling.  Everyone is subtly eyeing everyone else – sizing each other up if we’re all being honest here.  I look around and across the room I spot a girl my age but much more put together.  She’s chatting with a group, laughing periodically and I feel a pull toward her.  I immediately know that this girl and I are going to have a story.  Either we are going to come out of this program as best friends or we are not going to get along.  Later when it’s time to break into groups, I end up in her group, where I learn her name – Hilary.
The next day there is a breakfast for the whole school and the professors.  I end up sitting with Hilary again and at the end of the introductions and announcements over eggs and coffee, I decide to through out an offer – “Wanna walk to get coffee before whatever’s next?”
“Sure, can we stop at my apartment first?”  To which I respond “Sure.”  And that was it.  The moment we became friends.  I’d later come to find out that Hilary hated coffee – everything about it.  So her agreeing to go with me was a bit of an anomaly.
Fast forward two months, Hilary comes over and tells me we need to talk.  We go into my room, close the door and she is grinning from ear to ear.  We had been petitioning our campus housing to let her move into the third bedroom of my apartment.  We had finally gotten a yes and we celebrated the moment we became roommates.
In a lot of ways, Hil and I could not be more different.  She is a pastor’s kid who moved from the south to the west coast before coming to Chicago.  I didn’t become a Christian until High School, moved from the east coast to Colorado before moving to Chicago.  She is up to date on fashion and trends while always being perfectly accessorized and before we moved in together I couldn’t even paint my nails efficiently.  She is a pop music queen and I have a tendency to be a bit more indie inspired.  She loves movies with car chases and lots of action where I could watch chick flicks everyday and never get bored.
But at the same time, we always found common ground in the strangest places.  We both knew all the words to every song on Robyn’s 1995 release Robyn is Here.  We both loved to dance it out when stressed.  Neither of us were morning people and need caffeine before we can even think about talking to each other.  We’re both into craft beer and love to find pubs or neighborhood bars to frequent.  She’s a planner and I’m a follower of plans.  We just tend to fit together in the oddest of ways.
There was this one moment that seems to sum up our interactions – we were driving home from church in my car.  As we listened to music and talked through what homework we needed to do that day I asked her to remind me to do something when we got home.  She pulled out her phone and added a reminder to remind me.  I laughed and said, “One of my favorite things about you is that you set reminders to help me remember stuff.”  And she looked at me in disbelief and said, “That’s one of your favorite things about me?”
But the truth of the matter is that yes, in that moment I realized that she was the type of friend who went above and beyond to help her friends.  This was just a small example of it.  She was constantly helping me become a better person, a better friend, a better pastor.  It was a moment when I realized just exactly how much I appreciated her in my life.  That mundane moment that really didn’t mean a lot was the moment when I realized she was the best kind of friend, one who cares deeply about you – not because what you could do for her but because she loved you.
I’ve heard that it’s hard to live with your friends but once again, Hilary and I were an anomaly.  Although I am positive we often got on each others nerves, we also had no qualms about just coming out and saying what was annoying us.  It’s not that we didn’t fight, it’s that we fought out of a place of mutual respect and aimed for compromise.  I remember a few tense conversations standing in our kitchen, each of us refusing to turn away until it was resolved.
One night in particular, I was in my room crying over some dumb guy.  We had been at a party and I came home early to wallow.  She stood in my doorway giving me that look that I knew meant she had something to say that I did not want to hear.  When I asked her opinion she gave it to me and I was right.  She essentially told me what I already knew – I was wasting my time on someone who could care less about me.  It was within that quiet moment that I realized she wasn’t ever going to sugar coat something that I needed to hear.  We didn’t need the sugar coating anymore – we were Besties – the fact that we loved each other unconditionally was all the coating we needed for the hard truths.
Our friendship has had hundreds of other moments.  Good moments – dinners out, birthdays celebrated, new crushes discovered.  Hard moments – hearing that she was moving away, new heartbreak, big life changes.  And all the in-between moments – runs to the store, car singing, texting about the latest bit of celebrity news.  Each of the moments are treasured.  She is one of the best people in my life and regardless of the fact that life has taken her to the west coast and kept me in the midwest, we continue to be the anomaly in each others’ lives.  She is one of the only people who can call me on my crap and keep me laughing while she does it.  She’s a beautiful friend and I hope we get a million more moments together.

my earth is somebody's ceiling

I had a friend ask me the other night what the ratio of men to women would be in my ordination class.  I thought that it would probably be about 70% men.  We then went around the table and talked about the various ratios of men to women in each field represented at the table.  Architecture, Marketing, Accounting, Computer Sciences, Ministry.
Some talked about the absence of women in their fields when they began schooling.  It was eye opening for me, the youngster at the table, to think of a time when women didn’t even number among graduates in some fields.
You see, I look at this 70-30% within my total ordination class and I still think, that’s pretty good.  I know if I only thought through brand new ordinands, that would be a much more equal number but we are also talking about those transferring their credentials from another denomination.  Generations before us when women being ordained was much less common.
I’m thankful for the denomination I serve in because of their affirmation of women in leadership – all levels of leadership – in the church.  But there are still churches in our midst that wouldn’t dream of hiring a female pastor, or have a female Chairperson, or even allow a female to read the Gospel in service.  Even when I struggle to find my voice in a still male dominated denomination, as I struggle to see myself reflected in our own leadership and at our own events, I think of other traditions that are far more conservative.
I met a woman recently who was called to ministry.  I could see it in her presence, but she is part of a tradition that has been determined in their decision on women in ministry.  She spoke of the pain of being told she couldn’t serve both verbally and through the actions of the church.  That the gifts that she felt the Spirit had given her would go unused in a lot of ways.  But she was faithful to her tradition.  She had grown up in this tradition and wasn’t willing to give up on it because of this one discrepancy.  One that I would see as a deal break but that she is willing to suffer for her faithfulness.
Her story blows my mind.  I lament at the heartbreak she feels but I also applaud her courage to not run but to stand firm.  Not causing a riot but slowly and patiently allowing God to work through her in this church.
With all the gender equality work that has been done in our country and with so much left to do, I applaud women who have worked hard to have rights in the workplace.  I applaud women who haven’t been afraid to be the “token” or the minority.  And I applaud women who are still fighting.  As much as I think there is still a glass ceiling, even in my own world, I realize that the earth I stand on is someone else’s glass ceiling too.

before I put you in those boxes

Pastoral Identity.  We spend so much time talking about it in Seminary.  So much time thinking about it.  We talk about how hard it is to nail down, how hard it is to believe in yourself, how hard it is to listen to that small voice of God saying you are called and gifted – especially in the face of every day life and ministry.
Then you get into your first call.  People start referring to you as their Pastor.  You fill out your taxes as a self employed member of the clergy.  You get your ministry license.  Later you get your ordination.  Your denomination recognizes you or your congregation if you are a non-denominational pastor.  You start to put Rev. in front of your name – or not.  Everything point to the fact that you are the pastor.  Your identity should be rock solid right?
You are Pastor.
But then you’re out in the “real world” one day and you think about the work that you do in comparison to those sitting around you at the coffee shop.  Or someone asks you what you do and then responds in one of those many hurtful or confusing ways…
“You’re a what?”
“You don’t look like a Pastor.”
“But you’re so young.”
“But you’re not wearing a collar – you don’t dress like a pastor.”
“Can women even be Pastors?”
“You must mean you work with children. Or do you do women’s ministry?”
The thing about being a pastor is that it permeates every single space of your life.  It makes a lot of life decisions for you.  The way you act, the things you do, or don’t do.  I can’t really think of another profession that has that much power over your life.
Because the thing with Pastoral Identity, is that it isn’t your average profession.  It’s a calling on your life from God.  It’s different.  It’s in the Other category.  But our brains can’t fully handle it.  They can’t fully comprehend what it looks like when there isn’t anything to compare it to.  Just like I look at people in other professions and think “I could never do that…” I shouldn’t be surprised when they look at mine and think the same thing.  Right?
So what does it mean to struggle with Pastoral Identity?  To have something so contextualized to your specific call but also your general call.  Because I believe that I was created in a way, gifted in a way that prompted me to be called by God to be a pastor. He has equipped me and shaped me to be a pastor.  Simultaneously, I have been called by the church I serve to be a specific type of pastor – to serve a specific congregation, in a specific town, during a specific time.
There are things that I believe that God has called me to be about that effect my position and vice versa.  So how do I remain faithful to both at one time?  Pastoral Identity means we are constantly asking a series of questions about ourselves and our world – What does it mean to be a pastor here?  What does it mean to be single and a pastor? What does it mean to be female and a pastor?  What does it mean to be Latina and a pastor?  What does it mean to be a pastor?
How do we figure it all out?  Through community and BY THE GRACE OF GOD.  We interact with the Spirit and we try our hardest to decipher what He is leading us to.  And we attempt to walk the walk.
The thing is – I look at other around me in the coffee shop and I think to myself, “I could never do that.”  Because I believe in my call.  I believe that I was created for this and I now that I wholeheartedly love it.

Oh come oh come Emmanuel

“We aren’t just waiting on God – we’re waiting with God.”
– Louie Giglio on Advent

Earlier this fall I preached on the characteristic of Kindness and within my sermon I set out a challenge to for our congregation to be Agents of Kindness.  I have been on the receiving end of mountains of Kindness throughout my life.  And I mean true kindness – the acts that are above and beyond being polite to your fellow human.  In my sermon I talked about how I see the verse from the Psalms that says “Surely goodness and mercy will follow me all the days of my life.”  One aspect, in my opinion, of the truth in this verse is when the people of God bestow kindness, mercy and goodness on one another.
Whenever I open my social media or the news recently, I feel like I see a lack of this verse.  I see the brokenness of our systems, the brokenness of people, the brokenness of relationship, the brokenness of sin.  I’ve stayed quiet on social media about these things because I don’t think a productive conversation is happening in the comment section of my facebook page.  Or that if I tweet something out to oblivion about the topic that I will really be changing any hearts or minds.
Some may say I’m running from the issue.  Some may say I’m not doing my due diligence as both a pastor and a minority.  Some may say that I’m exerting privilege because I am not dealing with it.  And while some of those things might have an ounce of truth in them, It does not mean I am not wrestling with them.  I am struggling to find truth, to find grace, to find calm within the storm.
Then I hear this quote from Louie Giglio this morning.  He talks about the Advent season, the wait for the coming of the King.  And I realize that we are not simply waiting on God to reconcile the races, we are waiting with Him.  He is here alongside us.  His spirit is alive in us and in those around us.  And he makes good on his promises of mercy and goodness.  Whether through His acts or through the acts of his people.