Priorities?

Rosemary just got home from school and I took the opportunity to flee from the house for the purpose of delivering the bulletin to the church and sneaking in a few therapy moments at the piano. I noticed when I entered the sanctuary that one of my elders has been in to do the initial set up for communion this Sunday.

On non-communion Sundays you will find a Bible and the offering plates on the communion table. On communion Sundays things have to be rearranged.

This is how I typically find the rearranging:

You'll notice the Bible pushed haphazardly to the back and the offering plates easily accessible at the front of our gosh-awful baptismal font (don't get me started). And the baptismal font, no matter how gosh-awful it is, gets turned into a side table. Am I reading too much into things if I think this is an apt illustration my session's priorities? The church's priorities even?

And never fear, I always do my own rearranging prior to worship on Sundays.

Yuck. Just Yuck.

*Warning: If you don't feel like listening to whining, then stop here. The other me will be back another day with a more positive outlook.

Not even sure I can create paragraphs, so stars it is.

* There are 2 viruses running rampant through the schools, a stomach virus and a respiratory virus. Both of my 5-year-olds have both bugs. For Emily, the respiratory bug is worse. For Ian, the stomach bug is worse. But both have symptoms of both. Yuck.

* Something has happened to my sister that is affecting her speech. We are not sure what: seizure? mini-stroke? blood clot? tumor growth? She had an MRI yesterday and we are waiting to hear the results.

* I called my niece last night (my sister's oldest child) to offer encouragement. When we hung up the phone, she was crying. I don't think I helped much.

* My parents are caring for my sister in their home, which I believe is truly best for her. They are dedicated to giving her the care she needs. This is their world right now. I hate that their world is so pain-filled.

* The down side to the previous statement? We can't go around my sister or my parents unless we are all healthy. Do you have any idea how long it's been since everyone in this household has been healthy?

* The more time you spend in a house, the more cluttered it gets, the closer the walls shrink, and the less energy you have to do anything about it. I feel like a slug. I hate slugs.

* It's Friday. Do I know where my sermon is?? NO! Do I even care? Not nearly as much as I should.

* On a similar note, the call search continues to drag along. I hope I'm not so burned out by the time it progresses that I ruin my own chances of change.

* On the Myers-Briggs I sit right on the fence between introvert and extrovert. The way that works for me is that when life has more positives than negatives, I'm an E. When the negatives outweigh the positives, either in reality or perception, I'm an I. Right now I'm an off-the-chart I.

* I can think of only 2 people I would really want to talk with right now. Both are inaccessible.

I think I'll go crawl back under my rock now. That's all.

Should I?

I am grateful to the many people who commented on my previous post. Your words of empathy and encouragement have helped me work through my anger and disappointment. My EP was also a great help, at least in terms of listening as my pastor while I vented.

Last Sunday was ordination/installation Sunday for new elders. I preached on covenants that we make in the church - not just the covenant of ordination, but also the covenant of baptism. I don't think it would have been possible for me to be any more direct about the mutual responsibilities of parents/congregation, elders/congregation, ministers/congregation. If anyone - session members, anyone - made the connection between things in my sermon and the realities of my children in the church, it never showed.

Today I talked with a good friend of mine about the situation. She grew up a PK and knows all of the ups and downs of clergy families. She is a member of the big Baptist church next door - the one where my little ones attend Sunday School each week. I asked her what children their age did on Sundays during worship. Like many churches, the younger ones go into worship for the first part of the service and are then dismissed to children's church. This is exactly what my children need: to be welcomed into worship with adults and then to be able to worship in age appropriate ways as children.

I have friends in the Baptist church, the one I talked with today being one of several. I know I could make arrangements with friends for my children to stay for worship. I, the pastor of Small Church, could make the choice to send my children to another church - not just for Sunday School and Wednesday night activities, but for everything. Yes, there are some differences between Presbyterians and Baptists, but I grew up a Baptist and even though I left the denomination over issues that made it impossible for me to stay, I know that where it really counts we are on the same page. And there are some really good people in this church who love and minister to children very well. So on one hand, I would be doing the best I can do to make sure that my children's needs for spiritual growth and development are being met.

On the other hand, it would stir the stuff. Believe me, in a small town it would NOT go unnoticed that the Presbyterian minister sent her kids to another church every week. It would be a slap in the face to Small Church - and while I personally think they need a good smack, I still have to be careful. I know that I will not be there much longer. The only problem is, I do need to be there until I definitely have somewhere else to go. I may be gone by summer, or I may have to stick it out longer. I really don't know. I'm working hard on making a change, but as those in Presbyterian circles know this is a loooong and sloooow process.

So what do you think? Which hat do I wear to make this decision - my Mom hat or my Minister hat? What am I missing as I weigh out the options on either side? What would you do if you were in my shoes? My RGBPs and other blog friends have proven to me that you possess tremendous wisdom. I'm perhaps a little too close to the situation to think clearly, so share your wisdom with me if you will. Thanks!

I Give Up

Never good words to utter after a session meeting at the church, or anytime for that matter. But I do. It's officially official. I give up.

I've talked on my blog before about how my children are the only children in Small Church. I've talked about how Rosemary hasn't been offered Sunday School in Small Church since she was in elementary school, and even then it was only for a brief stint. I've talked about how no one wanted to keep the nursery when Ian and Emily came home from Guatemala in 2004 and how on several Sundays you would find me in the nursery with them until minutes before worship was scheduled to begin, when someone finally noticed that the pastor was missing and came looking for me. I've talked about how in the almost 5 years they've been here, they've never had a single Sunday School class offered to them at Small Church. I've talked about how their weekday sitter comes to pick them up on Sunday mornings to take them to Sunday School at the Baptist church next door and brings them back to Small Church where a teenage girl babysits them in the nursery during worship. I've talked about how the women's group lamented the fact we "have no children" in the church and when I reminded them that indeed they do have children , my children - and who would like to teach them - the entire group grew silent and refused to look me in the eye. I think I may have even talked about how an elder approached me to see if I could send my kids to their grandparents' house the following Sunday because our nursery worker couldn't be there and neither could her back-up worker.

And in today's session meeting we had the typical "we are running out of money and need to cut expenses" talk. I spoke up, saying that the kids love our nursery worker but that Ian is about to turn 6 and Emily is just 6 months behind him. They're old enough to be in worship. Obviously they can't sit with their mother. Rosemary is not there every Sunday. (Gee, for some unknown reason it is getting harder and harder for her to come to Small Church. She would rather go elsewhere. Go figure.) But if someone was willing to sit with my children, and if we could have a couple of people willing to staff the nursery in the event that a guest with a young child showed up, we could cut that one expense. Mind you, it isn't much in terms of savings, but it is a little.

They looked at me like I was speaking in some foreign tongue. Then one elder spoke up and said she didn't think that would be necessary, we could just keep our nursery worker. Murmurs of assent quickly followed from the other elders. And I, pastor of the church and mother of the only children in the church, bit my tongue until it bled.

Some battles cannot be won.

I give up.

They'll Understand One Day

Yesterday was a snow day here in Small Town. It was a little strange, since there was no snow. I saw about 4 flakes floating in the air. Usually it takes at least 6 to cancel school. But I'm not complaining. I like snow days. I like having the kids home. And since yesterday was special in more ways than just one, I liked sharing a special occasion with my children.

I did what I rarely do: I commandeered the remote control and took over the television in order to watch the inauguration. Rosemary, at 17, has NO interest in politics. Ian and Emily, both at 5, have heard enough about a new President at school to be excited, but they obviously didn't understand what was going on. Regardless, I called them all in to sit and watch as our new President took the oath of office.

Ian and Emily watched closely as "O-Rock" Obama was sworn in. They know he is our first African American President. What they don't know is how very important that is, especially for them. They don't know about the civil rights movement. They don't know that people were turned away from restaurants or bathrooms or water fountains because of their skin color. They don't know what it is like to be the victim of prejudice - yet. But as much as it hurts me to acknowledge this, I know that they will know. Why? Because my two youngest children are Hispanic.

As they grow up, they are bound to face comments on their ethnicity. They are bound to be judged on sight by those who wonder if they are 'legal.' If the laws stay as they currently are in my state, it's entirely possible that either of them could find themselves stranded somewhere as people pass them by, people who are afraid to help them because aiding and/or transporting illegal aliens is a felony. And after all, they 'look' illegal. Why take the chance? In many quarters in our nation, Hispanics receive the same levels of discrimination and abuse that our African American brothers and sisters received decades ago. We celebrate the strides forward we have made in civil rights for African Americans - as well we should - but we continue to carry the shame of prejudice and racial profiling across our nation, only now we've added another ethnicity to those being targeted.

In the throngs of people that witnessed the swearing in of our first African American President were proud graying African Americans who lived the horror of the pre-civil rights America. As I watched their tears flow, I celebrated with them the enormous importance of this inauguration. No, things aren't perfect, but look at how far we have come. Then with my own tears flowing I looked at my two youngest children. Their lives will be easier than most who share their ethnicity, but they will still face hard days simply because of their silky black hair and beautiful dark skin. And I prayed that they won't be old themselves before being able to celebrate acceptance and equality in a nation that declares that "all men are created equal."

Hope is in the air. This is my hope for them.

Spontaneity

Yesterday after lunch Rosemary said to me, "We really need to get out of town. Let's go - tonight." Her preferred destination was Port Town, almost 4 hours away, which is one of her favorite places on earth. I reminded her that I have to preach Sunday. "So! We can be back tomorrow night!" I told her the bulletin wasn't done, I'd have to arrange to have the animals cared for, we'd have to pack for 4, and I had no idea where we would stay. "We can do it." So we got home. She packed clothes for herself and her siblings as well as our toiletries while I finished the bulletin and called a neighbor about the animals. While I packed my clothes, she hit the internet to research hotels/vacancies/prices. In less than 3 hours, we were on the road.

We arrived around 8, found our hotel, put on our bathing suits, and went swimming in the indoor pool which easily could have passed for an oversized hot tub because it was so warm. Then we made a late night Krispie Kreme doughnuts run. The hotel room was very nice - pillow top mattresses - ahhhh!

Today we explored, stepped out on the beach for just a few minutes. (Brrrr.) We spent almost 2 hours walking around the college Rosemary is very much interested in attending. We ate at our favorite restaurant. We drove home.

Who knew that a single mom with 3 kids, 2 dogs, and 4 cats could still manage to be spontaneous?!

New Year's Prayer

Almighty God,
Give us grace never to sell ourselves short, grace to risk something big for something good, and grace to remember that the world is now too dangerous for anything but truth and too small for anything but love.

Wm. Sloane Coffin