Internal tangle of rubber bands keeps bouncing off my brain and my heart

It is a strange thing being a full time college student again. I grieve the loss of my professional status, my structured work week, and my own bathroom. However, I am enjoying a return to green campus lawns, going to class without makeup, and bellyaching laughter with housemates. I miss the stories that came with teaching, though: mice falling out of ceilings, teachers throwing rodents from windows, and homecoming floats dismantling mid-parade. Teaching is external chaos in pursuit of internal order. There is a lot of external order here at seminary; though I have to admit, speaking for my own self, internal chaos is raging.

Back in December, a friend challenged me not to go to a conservative seminary but rather go to a place like University of Chicago where I would encounter views radically different from my own. I countered that though I would love to go to the University of Chicago, I was not looking for a place where I could just study religion, but rather a place where I could also learn from those who had experience in ministry and who could give me insight into practicing vocational ministry myself. Though the University of Chicago would give me access to great education through religious studies, I doubted that they could help me much in training for Christian ministry. That entire conversation seems ironic now, for I am realizing that challenges in perspective do not come only from those who hold polar opposite views, but also from those who look at things just a little differently than I do. I didn’t have to go to a liberal university to be challenged. I’m at an evangelical Christian seminary, and my assumptions and even educated conclusions are being challenged at times to the point of pain. Predestination, believers’ baptism, women in ministry, etc. Debatable issues among brothers and sisters in Christ. I have my opinions on all of them. I believe that my conclusions come from Scripture. My brothers and sisters in Christ who differ in opinion from me believe that their conclusions come from Scripture. What is it that Scripture really says? And if tradition says something different from Scripture, what am I to do as an individual in the church, and later, as a leader in the church?

For instance, at this point, I really can’t see how infant baptism fits in Scripture. I know it’s an old, old tradition, perhaps having its roots in the early church, but I just don’t see how Scripture supports it. I’m at a PCA seminary. The PCA supports infant baptism. While I consider those who love the Lord and practice infant baptism my brothers and sisters in Christ, I cannot in good conscience support it. If I can’t support it, I obviously can’t work at a church that supports it. Also, I can’t marry anyone who is a leader in a church that supports it. So, here’s my question: do I let this be an issue? Is it a sign of a lack of maturity to let this be an issue? Anyone have any insight or wisdom?

Daughter of a King

My heart gets broken sometimes. At times it’s because I carelessly left it out in the street, just asking for someone to run over it, but sometimes, no matter how careful and wise I am, my heart, as well as I, end up broken. I’m so thankful during those times that God has revealed to us that we are not just his subjects but that we are his children. When I cry to Him it is not mortal to immortal, but a cry from daughter to Father. And the comfort that I receive, the assurance that I rest on, is that of a Father to his daughter. That I would always remember that I’m a daughter of a king. That I would always remember that when things go awry, that when I feel mistreated, that when my own wisdom falls short, I have a Father who knows my heart perfectly, who knows this world perfectly, and who will keep me in His own best interest for me. I really do have nothing to fear.

prayer and blogging

My problem with blogging lately has been similar to a common hazard with prayer. I want my blogs to be meaningful and profound. I want the insights to be fresh yet spring up from deep roots. I want the words to be careful, thoughtful, and undoubtedly true. To write in such a way takes solitude, an examining of motives, a guarding against selfishness, and a weighing of word against word, phrase against phrase. Such deliberating requires time. So, I think perhaps I'll have time to sit down tonight and form my thoughts into words on screen. Or, perhaps I'll be more refreshed first thing in the morning. Or, maybe after I study a little while, make my bed, eat lunch, or take a nap. The blogging never gets done.

Such it is in my prayer life. I imagine that I'll have a lengthy block of time later in my day to devote to prayer in which I can inwardly wrestle and quietly listen with and to God's directives for me. Right now while I'm feeling sick or tired or distracted won't do. I'll wait until later when I can do a better job at it. I'll be better at praying later in the day, I think, so I save every petition for that time. Therefore, people don't get prayed for. Situations don't get prayed over. My inward and outward life goes unexamined. Blocks of time for prayer are important, but so are moments. Waiting for the opportune time and inward feeling will not result in frequent and honest prayer. Praying in the midst of the distractions, unfavorable conditions, hurriedness, and just plain unspiritual feeling is far better than trying to take care of the day's checklist first.

I'll try to do a better job a regular blogging. I'll try not to worry about impressing all of you but rather give you my honest feelings and ordinary activities. And also, does anyone need prayer? I'll sit down and lift you up right now.

Church home

I start searching for a new local church tomorrow. It makes me feel sick to my stomach. I’m committing at least the next two years of my life to the church that I choose, and the teachings, ministry, and people I encounter there may have enormous sway over the decisions I make and the opportunities I choose once I graduate from seminary. Plus, I dread walking into churches for the first time. I’ve gotten pretty good about walking right up to the welcome table, telling my story, and asking questions, but, oh, I still loathe it. Going to a new church is an emotional thing. It evokes homesickness on all levels. Past churches once called home are brought to mind, and the voices and faces of those past congregations, from which I am now absent, become particularly haunting. If I go alone, I can’t help but feel alone with an empty chair or pew space on either side of me. If I am not sitting alone, I can’t help but feel embarrassed when I start to cry in front of this stranger who was kind enough to offer a seat. These services are about coming together as a community to worship God. This shouldn't be so painful. But it is. Why?

Day 1

This is the first real night in my new home on the campus of seminary. Tricia (my fellow basement dweller in this house) and I have not been satisfied with our shower. I describe it as the most stressful shower experience I have ever had. Tricia's mom calls it intense. Someone described it as an attack of water. It's small. It creates a vacuum in which the shower curtain blows in and clings to the body. The water pulsates down, and there is no where to escape. So, I decided to put on a new shower head so that we at least could redirect the water when needed. I couldn't get the original shower head off, so I asked Jeremy from next door if he could try. Well, he detached the original shower head - by completely breaking the pipe out of the wall. So, I'll make the call to the resident assistant tomorrow. He'll probably have to call the plumber. Then I'm sure he'll heartily welcome me to the seminary community. I completely rendered the shower unusable within twenty-four hours of arriving on campus to stay.