Last month, I was at a pastors’ conference with my lead pastor and her mom. We walked into the building and up to the check in table, the two of them on either side of me. Another woman approached the table and greeted the two of them, looked at me and said something to the effect of “You’re like the contrast in the middle.” For half a second, my breath caught in my throat. I was surprised by her comment, her lack of greeting to me and was trying to decide how to react.
I chose laughter, a shrug and “Something like that.”
Later that night I was reflecting on this comment. It stuck with me long after a full evening of fellowship, worship and teaching. If I was watching the scene unfold from the outside, devoid of a deep knowledge of anyone in the situation, her comment would have sounded odd, perhaps racially charged.
But I am not devoid of that knowledge. The woman speaking is a former professor of mine. I know her, I understand her heart. Her observation was a simple one, my lead pastor and her mom are both tall blonde women. I am shorter with dark brown hair. I am sure that her comment was a literal comparison between our hair colors. Knowing her character made it easier for me to laugh the comment off because I knew she didn’t mean offense by it. There is a part of me that still kind of wishes she hadn’t said it because for me it was an arrow at all of my insecurities. But that part of me, the part that believes the lies I’ve been told most of my life, that part could be reasoned with and told to shut up and sit down.
This time.
A couple of weeks ago I was listening to the Relevant Podcast. It’s one of my favorite pastimes, I love the cast and they usually bring topics that really push me to grow. One of the cast members brought a story about clergy salaries at churches. The example the article was bringing was of a large church which meant the pastor’s salary was fairly high. A conversation ensued on the podcast that rubbed me the wrong way. I felt the anger of being misunderstood as a pastor rearing its ugly head. The statements they were making were barely factual, in my opinion, in my circumstance. I felt like I needed to stand up for all the pastors of small churches whose lives do not look like expensive cars, clothes and a life free of financial worries.
So I did something I never do. I fired off a passive aggressive tweet. I told myself I was just applauding one cast member for offering a different opinion. For a few minutes I felt empowered, my voice had been heard.
Until they fired a tweet back at me. Challenging my opinion with the classic, “we never said it like that.”
I was taken aback by the harshness in their tweet. It didn’t seem to fit with the brand that I’ve fallen in love with over the last couple of years. I replied with less sting and it was over.
Except I found myself still not sure how to listen to the podcast without remembering that interaction. Until this last week’s episode, when they addressed internet interactions. They referred back to that same episode that had rubbed me the wrong way – they had apparently gotten a lot of negative feedback.
In their discussion, one of their comments was that people often fire back when the article/discussion/post goes against their highly specified situation. And I realized that was exactly what I had done. Instead of taking the whole story and discussion into mind, I only thought of how my situation was different.
Their discussion was on a micro-situation and my micro-situation was different and that made me mad. And I reacted from that anger. I tried to use 140 characters to change their minds. When in reality what they were saying about that specific context was correct. Their minds didn’t need to be changed, my mind needed to be broadened.
Both of these situations have shed light on the world for me. They seem different, but in reality they are similar.
In both situations something I held dear was challenged.
In both situations I was given an option to react.
In both situations I reacted.
In the first situation I was able to react in a tempered manner because of what I knew about the person on the other side of the equation.
In the second situation I reacted rashly because of my perception of knowing the people on the other side. I’ve been listening to this podcast for a while, following each of the cast members on various social media platforms and that makes me think I know who they are on a deeper level. But the truth is, I don’t know them, in reality. Also, I tweeted it. I didn’t respond to them directly, I put it out there in the world.
What I’m learning about the world these days is that the internet tricks us into thinking we know more than we do. The perceived knowledge we have emboldens us to speak our opinions on all sorts of topics and people.
But sometimes I need to remind myself that no matter how much access social media gives me to the behind the scenes life of those I follow, I am a follower and not a friend. Not all of my thoughts need to be said “out loud” on the internet. Because no matter how long I take to craft the words in that tweet or comment, it will be read by people who don’t know me, by those who don’t know my heart or my experiences. Misinterpretation is a vicious cycle that doesn’t end until we try and see the other person’s point of view.
I'm trying to love you more
While we were on staff retreat last week we did two different times of quiet time with God to ask two questions – what’s setting in your life and what’s rising?
The first question I had almost an immediate answer to, it came so quickly I almost doubted it was from God. But I knew it was because it has been stirring in my soul ever since I went to the Belong Tour. Listening to those women for those two days, I felt a clear message to my heart – it’s time to let go.
It’s time to let go of your insecurity.
It’s time to let go of your old ways.
It’s time to let go of the moving around.
Those days I was feeling this stirring in me. I think it was uneasiness. Since June of 2007 I have changed states 5 times. In those years I have lived in twice as many houses. I never stayed anywhere for more than 18 months. Everything I took with me fit into my Camry.
I’ve now been in my apartment for over 2 years. If I were to move again I would need movers. I started to feel this itch in me, time to go somewhere else.
But the thing that I was struggling with was that I loved my life. I love my church. I love the people I get to do ministry with. I wasn’t feeling a stirring to leave my church. I was just craving change. I think I had become drawn to the constant change. The uncertainty that my future always held. I’d always had an end date, in internships, in places I’ve lived. There was always a goal I was working towards and once I hit that goal it was time to move on.
So naturally I started looking at moving. I had gotten into my head that what I needed was a change of scenery – a new apartment, maybe a townhouse. I need deeper roots here in this place I’m in. If I’m here for the long haul so of course what’s next is a different place to live – moving is what I do.
But standing on the shores of Lake Michigan, I realized the thing I needed to change wasn’t my physical surroundings. It was much deeper than that. It was time to finally realize that God was at work in me, stirring up something. But before that something could come to fruition, something needed to die. My old ways. My old insecurity. My need for the approval of others. The sun was setting on the older version of myself.
The second time we took on the shores of Lake Michigan, we were listening for what was rising. What new thing is God doing in your life that you need to lean into.
I stared out at the waves breaking, I breathed deeply the crisp fall air. But I heard nothing. I don’t know what’s rising in me, what the new thing is God’s trying to do in me.
So I guess I’ll do what my favorite seminary professor would tell me to do – Be faithful. I’ll just keep walking and see what he brings for me.
We're never getting older
This last week I traveled back to my hometown to go to the Belong Tour with the Goddaughter. It was part of a trip to renew myself – spiritually and physically. My hope was to take time to vision cast. For myself, for ministry and to spend time pouring into myself.
There’s this lake near my house that I used to walk around whenever I needed some perspective. It’s right outside my neighborhood and throughout high school and college it was a sacred place for me. It has this hill on the backside of the lake that when you got to the top you could look out over the neighborhood and see the mountains in the background. It was my favorite view.
This last trip home I realized the view changed. I hadn’t walked the lake in several years. So many trips home have been too busy to even get a walk or run in, but this trip I took to the trail to get a glimpse of that view. But when I rounded the corner, up the hill, I looked out and realized I couldn’t see the mountains anymore. The trees of the neighborhood have grown over the last 10 years and all you see are the tops of the trees.
The pictures above are my best efforts to capture this change. On the left is a picture from March of 2006. I was a junior in college – life in complete disarray – or so I thought. I clearly remember the walk I took, desperate to see something bigger than myself. I almost wish I could go back to that 20 year old version of myself and tell her what’s to come. To take a deep breath and brace yourself because it’s gonna get a whole lot worse before it gets better.
In 2006 I was in the throws of my first heartbreak. I was on staff at my home church for the first time, working out what it meant to be called to youth ministry. I was mentoring a group of girls for the first time. I was coming to terms with the concept of a broken family. I spent my days doing homework at a random little coffee shop in a theater because my friend worked there and sometimes gave me free upgrades on my order. I was just getting to know some friends who would become my closest allies in the darkest parts of my story.
The picture on the right was last week. Every time I go home I have that nostalgia for the life that I lived in CO. But this last trip really gave me some perspective. I ran into that boy who broke my heart and was genuinely happy for the man he’d become all these years later. In a moment of divine appointment, I ran into one of the girls who I was mentoring back then and met her son, watched her loving talk to her husband and tell me all about their life these days. That same friend who used to give me free coffee now owns his own coffee shop and I spent the day dreaming about life and ministry in that gorgeous space. Also attending the Belong Tour was my own youth pastor who gave me my first chance to do ministry.
In the 10 years of life between these two pictures, so much has changed. It’s not just trees that have grown, I have too. In those 10 years I have lived in 5 different states. I have worked at 4 churches doing internships and gaining experience. I was ordained and called to a church that I love to do a work I feel very passionate about. I’ve learned to become healthy in the midst of heartbreak and joy.
I’ve become someone who knows there is no truth to the feeling that we will never get older. Nor is there really any desire in my heart to not get older. These years have been a gift to me, a blessing that has been bestowed on me.
As we grow, we keep adding identities on top of one another. The girl I was 10 years ago that took that sunset picture in an attempt to be artsy is still in me, like a nesting doll with head phones blaring John Mayer. She’s been covered with new versions of me. And what I’m realizing more and more is that I like this most outer nesting doll. And I can’t wait to see what the next one looks like.
one day when the glory comes
A friend texted me the following quote this week:
“I swore never to be silent whenever and wherever human beings endure suffering and humiliation. We must always take sides. Neutrality helps the oppressor, never the victim. Silence encourages the tormentor, never the tormented.” – Elie Wiesel
What follows is a post I’ve been mulling over for a few weeks. It’s still not fully thought through and it’s not profound in anyway. But it is an attempt at not being silent anymore, regardless of how unprepared I am to speak.
The first time I visited the National Civil Rights Museum was in March 2010. I clearly remember a moment where I found myself standing in a replica of a jail cell listening to the reading of Dr. Martin Luther King Jr’s Letter from Birmingham Jail. I stood in that jail cell and tears streamed down my face as I listened to this letter.
In this letter, Dr. King is responding to white area clergy who had written a statement calling his actions and the civil rights movement “unwise and untimely.” His response is humble but firm – that injustice anywhere is a threat to justice everywhere.
Back then I had just decided on moving to Chicago to pursue my masters. I was beginning the path toward where I am now – an ordained pastor serving in a church setting. Standing there and listening to his words ignited something in me – a passion to fight for justice, especially within the racial tensions in America.
As I was exiting seminary, someone asked me what I thought my role in racial righteousness ministry. Throughout seminary I had been challenged to see myself and the world around me differently. I had come face to face with ugly truths in my own life and in the world, especially when it came to racial righteousness. So this question to me gave me pause.
I’ve been trying to answer that question for the last six years. To see where I fit in on this long road towards justice for all. What’s my leg of the race? Where do I fit into it?
Along this journey of discovery for myself, I have found beauty in the discussions. I’ve entered in with my brothers and sisters in Christ as I’ve tried to understand the various perspectives in justice ministry. I’ve sat uncomfortably in the anger. I’ve cried the tears of brokenness and pain. I’ve rejoiced alongside my brothers and sisters who find triumph in their ministries in building bridges.
Last month I found myself in that same jail cell replica. I was en route to Jackson, MS with an intergenerational group from our church. We were going to serve alongside another Covenant church and on the way we were stopping to enter into this conversation about race in America.
I took the picture above on this second trip. I wanted to remember the first time I stood in that cell and at the same time I wanted to rejoice in how far I’ve come in my own understanding. But I also took this picture for another reason – to remind me that I’m still on the outside.
I’ve done some hard work in my life to understand racism in America. I have had to do some digging in my own life as a biracial woman. I’ve dealt with racism and sexism directed towards me. I understand being marginalized in some aspects. But I am still on the outside of this jail cell.
I still have white privilege. I will never fully understand what it feels like to be afraid of law enforcement, to do everything right and still be disrespected, beaten or killed.
Dr. King was constantly challenging white clergy to enter into the conversation. To mourn alongside those who mourn and to be heartbroken by the belittling and loss of life. To not stand idly by while our brothers and sisters are being devalued, killed and held back from the type of life they deserve.
When tragedy strikes us the way it has this week in Dallas, Baton Rouge and Minnesota or in recent weeks in Orlando and overseas – we must join together and lament. To fight darkness with light.
Yes – Hate is alive in our country. Fear is alive in our country. But so is Christ. Christ is alive and he is mourning the loss of life. He is weeping over the bodies of Alton Sterling, Philando Castile, and the five officers in Dallas.
I’m still working through what this looks like in my own life – how I am called to act. But I refuse to look away, to be silent when the darkness is so loud.
May we join together and engage in this conversation on how to redeem and mend the brokenness all around us.
what if I don't wanna be like you?
It’s time for another installment of Tuesdays in Leadership. (New working title)
I mentioned our Confirmation Sunday in my last post. We had 11 students be confirmed, which is a record for our church. Each of the 11 stood before our congregation and shared stories of their faith journey. They did so in a language all their own – some through video, dance, pictures, drawings, words. It was a beautiful expression of God’s beauty in creation. Each of these students was created by God, called by God and are answering that call in their own unique ways.
Last week’s episode of Lead Stories Podcast was on finding your voice in leadership. Jo and Steph talked through resources to help leaders find and use their voices. So I thought I’d write a little about what it looked like to find my voice as a leader.
I’ve written before about how I feel like I’m a bit of an outsider. I’ve had a hard time finding a place where I feel completely comfortable – completely able to be myself. I can name some of that as coming from my family of origin, some of it comes from being biracial, some of it comes from moving around a lot and honestly, some of it comes from being a pastor.
This made finding my voice as a leader difficult. I struggled with confidence, which I know realize is something we all struggle with – or at least most of us. I so wanted to be like these women I admired – real and fictional – who seemed to just know who they were. I always struggled to figure it out.
I struggled the most when I went to seminary. I was so unsure of myself and my call. I knew I was called but I was so intimidated by my classmates who seemed to have this unwavering faith in themselves. I remember writing in a paper how I questioned whether or not my voice mattered. I got the paper back a week later and my professor had underlined that sentence and in the margin he wrote, “Your voice matters.”
The real story of finding my voice is found through the mentors I have had in my life. Men and women who have pointed out moments of leadership and told me that I mattered. In some of my most formative years the message I received over and over again contradicted that important message. I never felt like I fit and therefore I didn’t matter. I’d place my trust in something or someone and get my heart and spirit broken.
This new message of people telling me that I mattered, that what I had to say was good, that was new for me. During that time I started to root myself in the Creator. I was learning how to look at my story and see Him more than I saw brokenness. I started to see that being an outsider gave me a unique perspective.
I found my voice not by trying to fit in but rather by accepting that I never would. I didn’t need to find that community that I fit into, I needed to find a community that loved me for the person I was – both created by God and shaped by my experience. I had to learn that comparing my misfit life to others wouldn’t make me happy. My voice was found in accepting myself and accepting who God was calling me to be.
Just as Jo and Steph shared some things they’ve learned along the way, here are a couple of things I’ve learned along the way:
Guard your heart
Not everyone around you is a safe person. I’m not saying this to be cynical, but rather to say that when it comes to leading others – it can be a lonely task. There’s a fine line between being a vulnerable leader (which is important) and being a hot mess. Sometimes finding and keeping your voice means limiting the people who get to see and speak to your whole heart.
Root yourself in God
We can do nothing apart from Him. The sooner we see that he is the one who we should focus on the sooner we will be speaking his truths. Find what works for you as far as being rooted in him and make sacrifices to do those things regularly.
Let others speak truth into your life
I’ve had some amazing people say some really hard things to me. They are trusted advisors, people who know my heart and have walked the journey with me. They don’t sugar coat it when I need to hear it. Because they have walked the journey with me, it doesn’t hurt (as much) but rather inspires me to do better.
Broaden your perspective
Read books. Listen to podcasts. Attend conferences. Even if an opinion differs from your own, listen to it with an open mind and allow it to speak to you. Sometimes a challenging person will allow you to see God clearer and change you or keep you where you’re at.
I’m still fighting for my voice everyday, but these are just a few things I think I’ve learned from this journey. What about you?
Where are you on this journey to finding your voice?
I've been trying to do it right
I’ve always had a secret dream to be the person who picks music for television or movies. That person who finds obscure covers or indie bands whose songs will perfectly compliment the rise and falls of this or that character’s story line. The perfect piano riff into the scratchy voice that will accompany the main character’s “aha moment.” The fast violin line that will express the hurry of a man running to catch up to the love he’s about to lose. I’m a sucker for that perfect song that accompanies a perfect cinematic moment.
But because I do not get paid to discover music or orchestrate emotional moments in the lives of fictional characters – I am stuck doing it for myself and my own life. I have (in my humble opinion) mastered the art of a perfect mix. What started off as mix tapes and transitioned into mixed CDS and has now become playlists – I have spent an insane amount of time creating mixes to match a season of life.
One genre of mix that I have become particularly good at has been the Relationship Mix. A list of songs that sums up my relationships, more specifically, the romantic ones. From first meeting to the bitter end, I end up stumbling upon the perfect song to describe each stage of each relationship I’ve ever been in.
I stock pile these mixes with descriptive names- The Demise of Alexander, The Patrick That Got Away, The Whatever Happened with Bill, and the “Darn” You Scuba Steve Mix. (Names obviously changed because, well, this is the internet.)
Everyone once in a while, a song will play through the speakers and I am almost immediately transported back to that relationship. I feel the feelings I had in that moment. I see his face and I wonder if I made the right choices. When I’m feeling extra vulnerable, I think about why it went the way it did. Because I’m human – I’m a single female that sometimes gets lonely and wishes that I had someone – anyone – beside me at this event or that person’s birthday party. I’m a normal thirty year old woman who sometimes hates being the third (or fifth) wheel.
It’s in those moments when remembering the entirety of the mix is helpful. Because I can mentally skip to the end of the playlist. I can remind myself that there was a reason that it ended. There was an incompatibility that existed. The ever clear reminder that he wasn’t ready, or I wasn’t ready.
It’s almost like therapy for me, mentally cataloging the ebbs and flows of these relationships. Because while I was still in the relationship or shortly afterwards, I’ve done the work of asking hard questions, of digging into what really happened. I’ve created this mix in my mind that sums up my personal experiences so that later on, when I’m struggling, I can look back and remember. I can learn from my mistakes and I can move forward instead of dwelling on the past.
So here are a few tips to help you make you’re own lists:
Don’t force it: keep your ears open
Don’t go searching for the music to accompany your story. Simply keep your ears open and your feelings honest. When you hear a song that resonates – take note. It’s the small subtle tug on your heart strings. Especially when you least expect it and suddenly you are feeling all the feels.
Take artistic freedom
Sometimes you are the one singing but sometimes you are the one being sung to. Once I was jamming to a Taylor Swift hit when I suddenly realized that no matter how badly I wanted to identify with the scorned Taylor, if I was being honest, I was the one who needed to be reminded it was time to let it go. The songs don’t have to fit completely in they way they were intended, it’s okay to interpret a little for yourself.
An honest mix is a subjective mix
Once you finish your mix, don’t forget it’s only one side of the story. Don’t try to share it – especially with your ex. This is meant for you – to help you heal. Others won’t fully understand the way you want them to. You may be tempted because it may help them understand you better, but take it from someone who has had that go terribly wrong, just keep it to yourself.
I have faith that I won’t be alone forever. That someday in the future I’ll have a mix that never ends, just keeps growing with new memories and experiences. But for now, I have this list of mixes that help me to understand myself better. That help me to see what has been good, what has been bad. They help me remember what I want, what I’m looking for and help me to never settle for less than I deserve. It helps me to not feel alone in any particular moment. In the ups and downs of all these relationships I have found someone who gets it – someone who has experienced that moment and has lived to write a song about it.
you didn't have to be perfect – not in my neighborhood
I mentioned in my last post that I’ve been listening to a podcast called Lead Stories with Jo Saxton and Steph Williams. Each episode they spend time talking about leadership and answering questions that pertain to leadership. It’s been a great addition to my rotation and sparks a lot of interesting thoughts.
So in my desire to blog more, I’ve decided to try and do a weekly response to their podcasts that I’ll maybe call Tuesdays in Leadership … for lack of a better name.
Last week’s episode was all about defining leadership and then Jo and Steph asked each other about their earliest experiences with leadership. It was really cool to hear both of them tell their stories about when and how they began realizing they were leaders – that they had influence over others.
A common thread for the two of them was they had people who pointed out their leadership skills from early on. Whether it was parents or members of their faith community, they had voices telling them that they were leaders.
Looking back at my early years – it was obvious I was a leader. I grew up on a street full of kids where I was on the older end. In the grand scheme of being a kid, it’s only natural to look to the oldest (and loudest) kid as the leader of all the kids. And I took that role willingly. I got us all into varying amounts of trouble by pushing the boundaries our parents had set for us.
In those early years, I can see my parents trying to redirect my leadership skills – but as a rambunctious kid it felt more like they were squashing me. I saw being a leader as a bad thing because I often got punished for it. In my childhood mind I couldn’t see that they were trying to teach me to use my influence well. That my punishment was more about my behavior than about my ability to get the support of the neighborhood behind me.
I didn’t really start getting it until I was in middle school. I had just started dancing and doing theater when the owner of our Performing Arts Center started putting me in charge of little things. It started with sweeping up or taking stock in the store and built up to helping run the younger kids’ rehearsals. She invested in me, teaching me how to teach others. How to be encouraging, how to be stern but not too strict.
Fast forward a few years and cross the country a bit, after I started attending church regularly, I got another chance to lead. The children’s pastor at my church asked if I wanted to teach Sunday School. To this day, it blows my mind that she picked me – this 17 year old from a dysfunctional family who had just found Jesus to teach a bunch of Kindergarteners. I had a small class and it was all mine. That year was so formative for me. It started me on the path of ministry that would eventually lead me to here. Pastor of Christian Formation, calling out leadership in my own students and trying to find ways for them to shine.
Fun fact – those Kindergarteners that I taught are graduating from high school this year.
The thing I love about this podcast is that they continuously go back to the idea that we are all leaders. We all have influence over others in some realm. As parents, as older siblings, as friends, as leaders in the church – in unconventional ways and formal ways.
So I encourage you all to think through your earliest memories of becoming a leader. Who took a chance on you? Who encouraged you and showed you how to lead?
we all wanna know how it ends
I’ve always felt a little like an outsider.
I grew up in a small town on the east coast where I was the only kid in my class with two working parents. I was also the only kid in my class from a biracial family.
Then we moved back to CO to be near family, but we had been gone for most of my life so even with family I was the outsider.
After I became a Christian, I was different than my friends. I lived at home through college straddling life at home and life in college while everyone else ate dorm food and had late night study sessions.
I started working at churches where I was always one of the only women on staff and the only person not raised in a Christian home. References would be made to things “we all grew up with” and I would stare back blankly or fake nod like I understood.
I attended our denomination’s seminary and came face to face with the reality that while my denomination values multiculturalism and women in ministry both are still a minority in a white male dominated profession.
I’ve never really felt like I fit. When I was younger, it was an insecurity. I saw myself as so different from my peers that I would just mold myself to fit in with them. I played up my white side in order to fit with the other girls at the lunch table. I wouldn’t talk about how my nanny helped me with my homework because my parents were working. I would force myself to try and fit in with my cousins, even though all the stories were of times and places I wasn’t a part of. I taught myself to be quiet because even though my opinion was different, theirs were louder.
But as I’ve grown up, I realize that my outsider nature is actually an asset. Everyone strives to fit in, everyone struggles with being just like everyone else. But I was given a story for a specific purpose – and I’m working on finding mine.
I was listening to a podcast this morning with author Sally Lloyd Jones. She said that someone once told her that all writers need two things to be good – to have been transplanted from one place to another in their childhood and to have a deep wound in their childhood. I’m not sure how true that is, although neither was Sally – but it got me thinking…
All these experiences have convinced me that my voice isn’t good enough. I’ve been on the outside for so long, I’ve felt wounded by the exclusion of not fitting into the box that everyone else fit into. And while there is portion of that burden on their shoulders, there is also a portion of it on my shoulders.
I’ve allowed it to happen. I’ve faded into the background instead of working through the pain. I’ve said that it’s easier not to rock the boat than to speak my truth. I’ve allowed it to happen because it’s too hard, in my eyes, to try and speak up.
But Sally’s words spoke to something deep inside of me. That my story needed to get out. That my voice matters and that while others have told me that repeatedly, I need to give myself permission to speak.
God’s been moving, stirring in my heart for a few months now. He’s working me up into a tizzy that can no longer be silent. Now it’s up to me – to have the courage to share, courage to speak up, courage to use my experiences to help others see what life looks like on the outside. To pour into others on the outside and give them the mic to speak.
We all have stories that need to be heard. We all need to self-edit to keep the message relevant, but maybe it’s time for me to self edit just a little less.
When we were young we were little but we didn't know it
This week’s #FridayFive is coming in under the wire … I say that because as I type this, I am packed up and ready to leave on a winter retreat with my Jr Highers. A weekend at our denomination’s camp, with other jr highers from our conference, for an intentional few days of worship and fellowship.
Kelly, over at Mrs. Disciple posed this week’s #FridayFive : Five Adjectives about You. So here we go, I’m cheating a little bit because since my mind is in retreat/youth ministry role, I’m going to share Five adjectives others have used to describe me, and Five Adjectives that I use to describe myself. The way that others see us has the ability to change the way we see ourselves, sometimes we have to fight against that in order to see who God has created us to be.
#FridayFive: 5 Adjectives about Me
5 that others have used to describe me:
Easy Going
I heard someone once say that the best thing about me was that I was easy going. I’m going to take this as a compliment, even if the circumstances that surrounded it weren’t really a compliment. I do have a “go with the flow” type of personality, which I think is what he as getting at when he said it. I picked up this habit a long time ago and for the most part, I like that about myself.
Intimidating
Another thing I’ve heard said about me (rather than to me) is that I’m Intimidating. Sometimes it’s in the realm of relationships with guys – I’m too intimidating for them. Other times it’s with friends. I’ve been described as brooding, when I was younger. I have this tendency to be up in my head – over analyzing everything – this sometimes comes off as stand offish to those who don’t know me.
Caregiving
I’m not sure if this is actually an adjective. Every personality test I’ve taken has told me that I’m someone who enjoys taking care of others. It’s partially what led me to being a pastor. Partially why I love being an aunt and a godmother.
Loud
I have always been loud. I’ve quieted down over the last few years, but my “quiet” is an average person’s loud, so I guess that still makes me loud. I’ve been shushed a lot in my lifetime, especially in public. I’m also told my laugh is really loud and distinctive. I’m still on the fence as to whether this is good or bad.
Stubborn/The Princess
This one comes from my family. I’m the only girl in my little family of origin and the youngest. That’s where the “princess” nickname came from – my brother was always lamenting that I was never in trouble while he always was. We have this hilarious story about the time that I accidentally backed up through the closed garage door and he got yelled at. He would say that my stubbornness got me preferential treatment, I would say it was because I was the cute one. #YoungestSiblingsUnite
5 Adjectives that I would use to describe myself
Self-Aware
One positive aspect of always being up in my head is that I self critique a lot. I tend to over analyze all sorts of situations, but it also has helped me to understand myself better. Understand why I act certain ways and what needs to be changed about my behavior. I come to these realizations about my life and I try to make the change that makes it better. I love this about myself. I love the new found self-confidence that God has given me in my older age.
Compassionate
I’ve seen a lot of life. A lot of things have been challenging over the years. But this has made me deeply compassionate. Deeply loving towards others. I have a lot of empathy for the pain of others. I try really hard to see things from others’ perspectives because I think it makes me a better person, a better pastor.
Stubborn
I know this one’s true. I don’t think I’m a princess though – but I do know I’m stubborn. Most of the time I think it’s a good thing – it helps me to stand my ground, to stand up for what I believe in. It means I don’t let others walk all over me or over others. I’m a justice seeker. …But I also realize this makes me a little difficult to deal with.
Loving
I think this is different than compassionate. I have a high capacity for love. I love easily and I love hard. It helps me in friendships – they seem to sprout out of the ground. But a high capacity for love means a high capacity for pain. It means that when I get hurt, I get hurt hard, and it makes me retreat into myself a little more. But I work on it, I lean into God’s love to help me love others better.
Protective
I am deeply deeply protective. Of others, and of myself. Sometimes to a fault. I protect those I love by being loyal and caring for them and by standing up for them. I protect myself by setting boundaries in my life.
What are 5 adjectives that others have used to describe you? What does God say? What do you say?
C'mon get rhythm
While I was in Denver for Christmas I had dinner with one of my closest and oldest friends. We’ve known each other since college which means she’s been by my side through a lot of life.
We really cemented our friendship back then because we were both living at home during college and commuting to school via bus. She’d get on the bus down by her house then a few stops later I’d get on. She’d save me a seat and I would entertain her with my naive and immature antics. She was the kind of person who got up early, ate a well balanced breakfast, stopped for coffee and calmly boarded the bus and chose a seat in the front. I was the kind of person who barely woke up on time, rushed to get ready and clamored on the bus with a diet coke and pop tarts in my hand, collapsing in the seat next to her.
I wish I was kidding.
While we were catching up, we were talking about our routines. She’s a really structured person, still – and I’m still mostly a hot mess. I mean I’ve grown a lot, I no longer drink diet coke at 7:00 a.m. But I still have a hard time with this mysterious thing people call rhythm.
I’ve long surpassed the time when a rhythmless life is acceptable, but I blame it on two things – being single/childless and my job. I don’t have a normal 9-5 and there are no kids around to dictate my schedule. Therefore, I make up my own and as I’ve learned about myself – I have fairly little discipline in my personal life. I mean the big things I can handle but going to bed at a reasonable time? Not sleeping in too late? Not watching too much TV? There’s not much hope for me there. (That’s a little bit of a joke.)
The problem is my weekly schedule has no real structure. Sure there’s a meeting or two that happens every week but for the most part, it changes week to week. At least 1-2 nights a week are late nights at church but it’s never the same two nights. I have the freedom to work from home or a coffee shop – which is great, but sometimes too much freedom makes it difficult. Scheduling regular times to work out, cook, clean, do laundry etc has become a challenge. I think, I have plenty of time to do that later in the week and then it never happens.
But alas – we are in a new year and it’s time to make some resolutions right? No – I’m still not a resolution person. But people all around me are starting new things, so let’s see if I can!
I’ve tried a lot of different techniques over the years that work for a couple weeks and then don’t anymore. I’m still not sure how I’m going to do it, but that’s part of the adventure right?
Here’s my list of things I hope to get back into my life on the regular:
Taking care of myself physically
This encompasses a lot of different things.. vitamins, work outs, sleep and cooking myself real meals. These are all things I struggle with but know I need. I need to eat better and spend less money on going out. I need sleep (duh!). I need to work out, more for my sanity than for anything else (and there’s a gym in my complex!) And I need to get back into taking my vitamins – especially vitamin D. Moving from Colorado to Illinois was hard if only because of the lack of sunshine here. If you struggle during the winter months – vitamin D really does make a difference!
Less TV, more other things.
Living alone means that sometimes I use TV as background noise. I find myself struggling to find something to watch and then not actually watching it. So one thing I’m going to try for a season is not turn the TV on before 6:00 p.m. with the only exception on ONE of my days off. Let’s see if replacing TV with music helps me to not go crazy in my quiet apartment. (And don’t tell me to enjoy the silence – I don’t and I just can’t do it.)
The other piece of this puzzle is to listen to more podcasts, more regularly. I have gotten into the habit of listening to some while I get ready and while I drive and it really changes out I interact with the world. I’m currently listening to the Relevant Podcast, Happy Hour with Jamie Ivey, Serial and to keep me laughing – Heather Dubrow’s World.
Uping my Spiritual Life game
One thing I’ve been really lacking in my life is intentional time in God’s word. (What?! But your a pastor! How can that be?) I’ve fallen into that trap that a lot of pastors do – I only read the bible when I need to for work. Sure, I read other books and devotionals that reference the bible, but actual time with the bible – it’s very limited. So this year I’m joining a challenge set by one of the women I follow on Instagram – to read the whole bible chronologically in 2016. I got a new journaling Bible for Christmas so I’m pretty excited.
More writing
And of course – like I say every time I post – I’m going to write more. Hopefully I will be chronically how I do with getting these things into my life. Plus I will keep up with the #FridayFives.
Here’s to trying to find rhythm to my hodge podge lifestyle in 2016. What are you trying new in 2016?