New Blog Address

Hey everyone,

This respite is soon going to become Prior Respite. My new blog address is http://jessicacarey.blogspot.com. All future postings will be there.

My grandpa

I'm working on a Bible talk, looking for a particular Carl Sandburg poem. I find this one instead.

Illinois Farmer

BURY this old Illinois farmer with respect.
He slept the Illinois nights of his life after days of work in Illinois cornfields.
Now he goes on a long sleep.
The wind he listened to in the cornsilk and the tassels, the wind that combed his red beard zero mornings when the snow lay white on the yellow ears in the bushel basket at the corncrib,
The same wind will now blow over the place here where his hands must dream of Illinois corn.

I think of my grandfather working Illinois days and sleeping Illinois nights. I think of cornsilk and biting wind and hard yellow ears of corn. I think of a life. I'm studying Jesus' promise to return and make all things right, but dreams falling through dirty hands, kernal by kernal, seem more real.

Tears are not uncommon in this house. We are six young-adult single women, full-time graduate students, here with just a little bit of faith, longing to be within a secure, long-standing community where we can both know and be known. Tears flow in the faltering patience for hope to be realized. All of the tears are of longing, some of them more intense than others. One roommate and boyfriend ended their relationship today. What was just around the corner slipped through their fingers, leaving them with hurt and confusion over emotions invested and time spent in what was not to be. Bottles of tears were cried by her and for her over her pain. And then tonight another housemate got word from a friend in another country, giving her graphic details of what happened to her friends who were martyred one week ago. Suddenly, the horrible violence found among humans was reality; victims of religious persecution were not foreigners but rather ministry partners and friends. My housemate fell prostrate on the floor, sobbing, crying out to Yahweh, asking why. We were on the floor with her, praying desperate personal prayers for protection of those in danger, prayer that the Gospel would move forward through the persecution, prayers for those left behind without fathers, husbands, and fiances, and prayers that the powers of darkness would be bound and what Satan intended for evil God will make for good. Is this life anything more than longing?

Being Right

According to some psychologists, one of the key traits of a first-born child is the need to be right, all of the time. As a firstborn, I want to dispute this theory, yet the possibility that i will be proven wrong deters me. I admit, though, that I like to be right. Who doesn't?

Last week I got home from spring break to find all of my coats (heavy wool to unlined nylon) off of the coat rack and on my bed. I ask my housemate (who is from Florida) about it and she said, "Those are your winter coats; I thought you'd want to put them away." I admit it, I laughed at her. I said, "It's 75 degrees now, but we are still going to need our coats before summer comes!" I tried to explain that there would be several days of 40-50 degree highs before 70's would be a norm. She dug her heel into the ground (well, not really a heel since she was wearing flip-flops) and pledged she was wearing flip-flops now until next winter.

The 70 to 80 degree weather has been wonderful. Yet, 40's are coming back our way, and I wish I wasn't right about still needing my winter coat. And my poor housemate. She's spending Easter in South Bend with a friend. I think they're calling for snow every day of Easter weekend. So, part of me is smug that I was right, but most of me is wishing that i was stupid and wrong. ;(

My mouth is bleeding, golf-ball size swelling on my ankle, and my bedroom smells like sewer gas

...but other than that, everything's good. Karen, it was soooo wonderful to see you at Annual Banquet last night. Kristi, I want another hug. Melissa, I'm sorry we didn't get to spend more time together. Melissa Jean, I'm so glad you came to lunch with us; I want so much to hear what's going on with you. Kristen, you rock my world and give me a safe place to land. Maryann, missed you. Bri, missed you too.

I'm feeling unsettled tonight, like all is not right with the world, and I feel tired and restless all at the same time. Comfort seems to be the theme of so many of my prayers lately. Every time I answer the phone or check my email, there is pain or news of pain on the opposite end. Death, illness, heartbreak, and confusion, in response to which I pray but cannot find any words. People turn to me for wisdom, and I have none to give. I just want to somehow take it all away so that they can once again experience ease of being, not burdened by sadness, disappointment, and fear. And tonight, my own heart is heavy. I have fears of my own; emotions that can run wild with my heart unless I keep them reigned with my will. Hope is a slippery thing. The belief that tomorrow will not be too much, nor will the next day, the next week, the next month, the next year, is a hard-won prize and much appreciated gift, or at least it is for me. It comes from denying the lie that I am left to figure things out all by myself in this life. It comes from fighting every temptation to think that God is anything short of good, that His plan is anything less than best, and that His gaze towards me is anything but love. Tomorrow, the emotions will be different. Perhaps hope will be handed to me with the fading of my morning dreams, or perhaps I'm going to have to pray to God to help me see beyond heaviness of my heart. I pray for the former, but I accept the latter. Amen.

Assumption-check

Assumption-check: I left teaching and came to seminary because I believed God wanted me to enter into a new profession. I was supposed to teach, but not necessarily in the public school setting, yet I was not sure where.

Assumption-challenge: Maybe my coming here has nothing to do with entering into a new vocation.

Assumption-in-pieces: I often ask the question, "What am I doing here at seminary?" but I do not wonder, maybe I shouldn't have come here. I know I should be here, but what am I doing here? Maybe I'm just here to learn. My perspective of God's church has taken a completely different form: I have learned that a church can be traditional and liturgical and at the same time possess an eager, active faith in the radical good news of the Gospel. I've learned that the Church is not a Western-phenomenon and that church history is not the story of how Christianity spread across Europe - church history is the story of how the news of Jesus Christ spread in several different directions at once. I have learned that when I teach from the Bible, I cannot tell people what they are supposed to do without first telling people all that God has done to enable us to do whatever it is He asks. Telling people to live a good life is futile. It cannot be done...it cannot be done without the power of the Holy Spirit in full assurance of forgiveness and grace of a loving, good, and all-knowing God. I've learned that little kids are people capable of learning thankfulness, forgiveness, humility, and respect. I've learned that God's creation is good. I've learned to look for "echoes of Eden," or the glory and beauty of God visible even though tarnished by all that we human have ever done wrong since the first man and the first woman. I've learned to see all people as God's image-bearers, whether they believe in Jesus or not.

I've learned all of these things, and I have not even directly addressed all that I have learned about education. The domains of learning, learner motivation, critical thinking skills, human development theory, Bloom's taxonomy, etc... Several things that I learned as an undergrad have more meaning now that I've actually been in the trenches of teaching. My desire to teach has only grown. I know I would be such a better teacher now. I long for an outlet.

My purposes for coming to seminary was to enter some sort of Christian education position at a church. Yet, even if that never happens, I have been changed, and if it is possible that God lead me here to enter a new profession, it is just as possible that God lead me here to grow before putting right back in the public school system again. Having high school teaching as an option again gives me so much relief, so much joy. I love teaching. I don't know how effective I was before, but I would be better at it now. Maybe I won't end up back in an Illinois public school; maybe I'll be overseas, in a private school, adult tutoring, etc. But I don't have to throw out my teaching skills and desires and start from scratch again. I can't tell you how happy that makes me.

Virus Protection Software Problem

Do any of you have McAfee virus protection? My McAfee was recently updated, and ever since, I have not been able to register on and then navigate membership websites. I tried to join LiveJournal to read a friends' private blog, but, though my account is set up and confirmed, I can't navigate away from my log-on page. As soon as I click on a link such as "Friends" or "Change Your Options" it brings me back to the log-on screen. I am having the same problem with Evite. I registered and verified the account through the confirmation email. However, whenever I enter my username and password, it brings me right back to the log-on screen. With LiveJournal, at least it acknowledges I'm logged on for one page, if only one page. With Evite, I enter the information, and the screen refreshes with empty boxes for me to enter my info again. I'm thinking that there is some setting on my security software that is doing this, but I can't figure out what it is. Does anyone have any ideas of what could be going on? Is there a setting a need to disable? Does my software have a manic control complex? Does it need talk therapy? Tough love? Grrr...I'm the one who's going to need therapy if I can't get this working...

Just when you think your heart is in the right place....

Why is it that righteousness indignation so often turns into pompous self-congratulation? And why is it that it so often happens in my own heart?

I was embarrassed to be a seminarian yesterday. People in seminary have a reputation, a reputation for arrogance, condescending language, and a sense of intellectual sophistication, which in reality is neither sophisticated nor informed by experience. I know people are watching for it in me. I know it by their jokes as they good-naturedly yet somewhat tellingly thank me for stepping away from the high and lofty seminary atmosphere to spend time with the common folk. Such jokes startled me at first - even hurt my feelings. Is that how I come across? As I was considering and applying for seminary, were people expecting me to become haughty? I came to seminary only because I sensed that the Lord wanted me to devote more time encourage believers that all Christians are ministers, that ministry is life and life is ministry, whether one gets paid by a religious institution or not. I loved my teaching job, but to do teaching well, direct the extra-curricular activities so often required, and maintain personal relationships left little time for the Christian discipleship and teaching I so longed to pour more energy into. I felt that receiving training to enter vocational ministry was the best next step. Because of these reasons, the jokes of others wounded my heart. However, the wounds probably fall into the category of the wounds of a friend, helping me to be wary of pride that can so easily slip in and self-righteous feelings that can so easily develop, especially in somewhat isolated environments such as this campus. They cause me to examine my heart, weigh my words, test my thoughts. They bring me to prayer.

But, this all is a digression. Seminarians have a reputation. I am sensitive of the reputation, and I acknowledge that the reputation is not without truth. Yesterday I attended a presentation given by two missionaries from two different Native American reservations. Their presentation involved reference to elements of traditional Native American spiritual rituals, which, for reasons from overt demonic activity to sensitive attitudes, the Christian communities on the reservations decided to omit from Christian worship services altogether. Such decisions are controversial, to be sure. After all, this world is God's world, God's handiwork and beauty is everywhere, and God is in the business of redeeming what is not fully devoted to Him. Medicine, engineering, food production - we enjoy the benefits of all of these endeavors without wondering if the inventions and breakthroughs were developed through Christians. One does not have to be a Christian to enhance the lives of others. The same is true of music and art. As Christians, are we allowed to admire the architecture of non-Christians? Are we allowed to enjoy paintings that do not depict a scene from the Bible? Absolutely. Then why not use elements of traditional Native American worship ceremonies? It all depends if using those elements will aid others in worship or if they will hinder others. The Christian communities at these two reservations have decided that those elements would be a hindrance and present great temptation to forsake the Gospel for former objects of worship.

The issue is controversial, and a student asked about it. Why not incorporate traditional elements of worship and redeem them in a Christian setting? This missionaries explained, but, the student asked again, what about meat offered to idols? The missionaries explained again, but then another student jumped on board and then another. Before long, three students out of thirty were passionately arguing with the missionaries about the right way to do ministry. Maybe the missionaries were right, and maybe they were wrong, but I thought that the behavior of my fellow students was unacceptable. These missionaries were our guests, and while it is perfectly appropriate to ask questions and even to disagree, it is not okay to stridently and publicly argue with individuals who have taken time from their volunteer ministry to come speak to us, especially when we are the students and they are the professionals. And especially, when one of these women had never been on a seminary campus before and was probably already intimidated by our unfortunately reputation.

As the missionaries kept calmly explaining and the students kept arguing, getting more high pitched and louder every time they spoke, I grew angry. I grew angry at my fellow students, and, somewhere in there, I start self-congratulating myself that I was not like them. Ouch! It gets me every time. Perhaps that is why it is so hard to not refrain from sin in our anger. So much of anger is self-congratulation. So much anger is really the attitude, "If only they were like me, then no one would have gotten hurt. If only they were like me, then the world would be a better place." My peers' actions were unacceptable, but the attitude of my heart was unacceptable as well. We all were made acceptable only by God's grace through Christ yesterday - I and my more aggressive peers. I needed forgiveness just as much.

Wintry Mix of Fun and Excitement

Today I learned that forty-five minutes makes all the difference between wet steps and a treacherous fear-factor exercise. Let Chicago have their blizzards, the 32 degree mark is a different kind of exciting indeed.

Disequilibriated

I'm frustrated, I'm discouraged, and I'm a little anxious. I'm having one of those, "What am I doing here" weeks. I'm having one of those, "Whatever made you think you could do vocational ministry" weeks. I'm having one of those, "You came to a reformed, conservative seminary to learn and grow, but now you'll never be able to get a job at any other kind of church" weeks.

I'm corresponding with a woman who works as a minister of church life in an urban church in a US western city. She loves her job, which involves teaching and discipling adults. Her role as a paid minister encourages and empowers other women to exercise their gifts for the glory of God. But, her regional board, after two years, is now protesting her visible service in the church as well as her title as minister, accusing the church where she serves as breaking under liberal pressure. She is discouraged, and I am absolutely disheartened. Is this what it is going to be like if I start serving in a church someday? I have never thought too much about women's role in the church before, mainly because I have never wanted to be a head pastor and I have never aspired to be ordained in any denomination. But, I'm learning now that in some places, the restrictions go beyond that. I'm scared now. I still have no desire to be a head pastor or to be officially ordained by anyone. But, I do desire to equip God's people for works of service, and I thought God was leading me to seminary, this seminary, to be equipped to do that. And now I wonder if there is going to be any place for me after I get out. So many churches affiliated with this seminary (which is a great, biblically sound, challenging, encouraging, edifying seminary) don't want women in ministerial positions. I never really intended on going to work for a church in this denomination anyway, but now I'm wondering if any other churches will want someone from here. This place is evangelical and doctrinally sound, even if I don't agree with them on every single point; but denominations have their own seminaries, their own networks, and I wonder, not being from one of those seminaries, if another denomination would even consider me.

My education professors love to talk about disequilibrium, saying that it is when things don't make sense that we learn the most. Things don't make sense right now - so I must be learning a lot. God lead me to resign from my teaching position, and He brought me here to this seminary, to be challenged and nurtured and taught and trained. I have to believe that my background of various denominational affiliations will be an asset in whatever God is preparing me for. I have believe that the confusion about women's ministry that I have right now is in preparation for something new. I have to believe that what I sensed God was doing last year is still in play this year, even amidst my doubts.

I have no idea where I'm going to land in all of this. And I feel utterly irresponsible because of that. Who leaves a stable, well-paying job with benefits to spend thousands of dollars on a degree that you don't even know how you're going to use? I did. Wow, that drives me crazy. It makes no sense to me at all. And yet I believe it is God who brought me here. What do I do with that? I guess hold on and see - and then re-read this when things fall together more amazingly than I can even imagine...i hope.

such a cliche Monday

1. I could not sleep last night - I think I finally dozed off around 5:30.

2. There is water coming up from the floor in the basement, i.e.- my living room. It's a problem, and I'm grateful someone is fixing it, yet it makes it impossible to sleep.

3. Upon going to someone else's bedroom to sleep, I keep getting phone calls that I can't ignore.

4. Finally giving up on more sleep, I work on registering my company-imposed, new-and-improved health insurance information on it's new-and-improved customer service site. It asked me to enter the verification code to prevent automated regitrations. The numbers that appeared were 0456. I entered 0456. It told me I entered the incorrect code. It again told me to enter 0456. I again entered 0456. It told me I entered the incorrect code. It again told me to enter 0456, and I again entered 0456. It told me I entered the incorrect code. I logged off. I logged back on. It told me to enter 0456. I entered 0456. It told me I entered the incorrect code. Something in this process is really stupid, and, judging from my lack of sleep, I realize that the stupid one could be me, BUT I REALLY DON'T THINK SO.

5. Walk-through registration is today. I'm kind of expecting I will have been listed as an illegal alien over night and that they will deny me my student loan because of it - which will push me over the edge, but that will probably be okay, because tears are always an effective tactic. I'll probably still be deported, but they'll feel really bad about it as they do it. That's all I ask.

On all-nighers, weddings, and buckets of roses

I haven't pulled an all-nighter since fall of 2001. It was the week before finals, I think I had three papers and one project due, and I got a total of one hour of sleep in 72 hours. I swore never again. No more still typing while the sky turned gray with the ROTC shouting in unison as they ran past my window. No more staying up until I heard the alarm clocks of my house mates ring and chime. I decided that knowing the vast difference between a true all-nighter and getting one hour of sleep was nothing about which to boast. I've stuck to my oath pretty well. Once I started teaching, all-nighters were no longer an option. I thought I was tired in college; I had no idea what tired really was. Tired is not being able to move or think or speak in complete sentences after 8:30 at night and forcing yourself to get up after eight hours of sleep. Tired is midnight after a week of teaching, encouraging, managing, disciplining, persuading, and defending literally hundreds of teenagers - some of them, during the weeks leading up to a drama performance, wielding paint rollers on a prized gym floor, power tools, and hammers and nails on ladders. That is tired. All-nighters are no longer an option - you can't do all of that with no sleep, and after all of that your body will make you sleep, no matter how much you resist it.

All of this is just to say that I pulled an all-nighter last night, and I once again remember the icky (technical term) kind of exhaustion that it produces. It's weariness with no satisfaction. It's a feeling of, I am so stupid that I had to do that. Yet, this time, it was for a good cause. I staying up with a friend who was arranging all of the flowers, including bouquets, corsages, and boutonnieres, for a friend's wedding; and she had called me last night from the student center, surrounded by long stem roses in buckets, tired, and in desperate need for company to keep her encouraged and awake. When I got there, the bachelor party was still going on across the parking lot (we know this because one of the ushers stopped by in search for food). The bride was probably getting ready for bed, excited and stressed, perhaps filled with wonder at the blessing of her groom, perhaps just so burdened with details that the fact of her wedding was not even real to her. My friend and I worked on the flowers through the night, and by the time we were done, the bride was already awake and getting ready for her day. In the course of eight hours, we went from the day before the wedding to the day of, a difference that seems profound to me even though it is in reality only a matter of hours. I don't know how the bride, groom, or anyone else was feeling, but it left me feeling a bit in wonder. I barely even know the couple - I just am the friend of the friend who is doing the flowers - but, in the time it took me to snap off thorns, pluck petals, and cut ribbon, the most anticipated day of one woman's life arrived - and I got to keep watch while it came.

I just want to say...

People who loiter on the rails of skating rinks, obstructing such rails from unsteady skaters a fall and a toe pick away from permanent facial deformation or death, are punks.