19 August 20118:42 AM
Late last fall, I told my current congregation that I would be leaving at the end of August. Erik and I had decided that we could handle 2 kids and 2 jobs, but not if one of those jobs involved a long commute (that would be Erik’s job with its close to three hours of commute time each day). (Here’s a link to the long-version letter to the congregation explaining that decision.)
This has been a move in stages. Normally, pastors in my denomination search for a new call, get one, announce this to their current congregation, and begin the work of leaving, usually within a few months.
Our process, for a variety of reasons, could’t work this way. We had to start the work of searching for a new place and dealing with the questions around school for Zora (a complicated process in Chicago) last winter. We knew there were enough small-world connections between my church in Geneva and people we knew in Chicago that there was no way to do this secretly for months. And, my church has had an interesting year (2 sabbaticals and a family leave) in terms of staffing.
We moved to Chicago in June. Since then, I’ve been commuting back to Geneva 3 weekdays with my kiddos in tow since their childcare is out there; working from home other days; and, of course, commuting with Erik and the kids on Sundays. Except, of course, for the weeks when I had youth group trips; or Bible School; or vacation time.
And now I have less than 2 weeks left. And the long goodbye is almost over and it is brutal. These leave-takings were one of the reasons I would have preferred NOT to go into ministry. I hate leaving people and places.
I’m keeping my ears open for ministry opportunities closer to our new home, but so far there’s nothing lined up. And, in all honesty, I think I need at least a month to get Zora rolling in kindergarten; have conversations with Abram about things other than sermons and mission trip plans; really truly finish unpacking the house (large portions of our life are still in boxes); get some household matters in order; start exercising regularly; and to wean my poor family from the diet of fast food that has become an inevitable part of our ridiculous schedule. There is lots of bulgar wheat in our future, I think.
There are so many things I wish I could write about this transition, as well, but it has to wait because there is so much to do. Final sermons; packing my office; a long list of final to-dos; saying goodbye.
All of this a perfect illustration, of course, of one of the great realities of ministry (and life in general): there is never enough time.
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13 August 20111:00 PM
Abram is six months old today.
He and I celebrated this morning by…going out to a cafe where he was supposed to take a nap and I was supposed to write a sermon.
Instead, he rolled around on the floor by my feet while I got partway through the writing.
This (and a pastor-friend’s comment today reminding me that it’s not out of the ordinary for pastor’s kids to become pastors) got me thinking about a non-traditional catalogue of what Abram has done in 6 months: church work.
He is well on his way to a fine record of pastor’s kid activities. (In fact, I would say, child of a female pastor especially, in that the need for him to be in close proximity to the milk-machine made most of these activities possible!)
So, six months of PK-hood for Abram:
- a three-day clergy clinic on family systems theory
- portions of a worship colloquium for worship grant recipients
- the 3 1/2 hour each way road trip with 8 teenagers that went along with that colloquium
- 2 youth group trips, both to North Carolina (including a 12 hour each way bus ride for one of those trips)
- about 5 staff meetings
- perching on my back for VBS opening and closing gatherings
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30 July 20116:52 PM
We are in an extended transition around here. In June, we moved back to the city. But I am still working in the suburbs (the far, far, far west suburbs) until the end of August. During a “normal” week, this means I get one day to work at home, three weekdays to commute with the kids in the car (daycare is out in the ‘burbs), and then Sunday to commute with the whole family to church.
Not that there are many normal work weeks for me. It’s summer and I’m a youth pastor. Since we moved, I’ve had:
- a three day road trip with 8 teens to a conference on worship in Michigan (my kids in tow; no Erik along, but we were on the campus where my Dad works and he was an AMAZING grandpa!)
- followed within 24 hours by departure for the youth group mission trip to North Carolina with 40 teens and 12 adults (again, my own kids in tow; Erik along this time; and our little family flew rather than taking the bus)
- VBS week, in which the kids and I (without Erik) moved into my head of staff pastor’s house (he and his wife are away while they’re on sabbatical) so that we didn’t have to commute every day
- followed, again immediately, by departure with 11 youth and 2 adults for a youth conference in Montreat, NC (my kids in tow; no Erik; 12 hour bus ride on either end of the trip)
- sundry vacation time…
All of which means I haven’t had to commute every week with the kids.
But, I’m getting pretty ground down by the transition. And how the transition keeps going on and on and on and on.
And the reality of moving and leaving friends and a church dawns on us slowly. (About a week ago, it finally hit Zora that she won’t see her friends as frequently this fall. She thought we would see them often, since we see them often now.)
I am admittedly jealous of a pastor friend who was packing her family for a cross-country move the same week that I was packing for our cross-metropolitan one. At least they got to pack the boxes, load the truck, and rip off the bandaid. We are having all our “lasts” spread out. Two nights ago, leading a back-home group meeting on this youth conference, I realized it was kind of my last time leading my youth group in prayer. I had to pray incredibly slowly so as not to burst into tears. As it was, I didn’t burst, but basically leaked throughout the entire prayer.
Meanwhile, it has me and Erik thinking about ways we create some traditions and consistency for our kids. Erik and I are both pastor’s kids, so we know how the moving thing works. We loved living in different places. We didn’t like feeling rootless.
Here are at least two things we’ve come up with.
Family pictures in place: We are having a family photo shoot done in the neighborhood where we lived in St. Charles in two weeks. We’re thinking we’ll make this a tradition every time we move: that we have some good quality family portraits taken in the neighborhood where we lived before we move so that our kids can mark time and memories in the places they lived.
Regular places: After my third time going to the Presbyterian Youth Conference in Montreat, NC this week, I am seriously considering applying to be a small group leader next summer. In all likelihood, I will not be working with a specific church youth group next summer, so I won’t be going as a chaperone. But, it’s a place where you can take your family along (incredible child care! room for relaxation and contemplation for an accompanying spouse). Zora has gone on three of these trips now, and at this point, her weeks in their kids clubs have been her experience of summer camp. So we are wondering if this might become a consistent place for us.
(And now, off to take a nap: being in this in between time is exhausted.)
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6 July 201111:45 PM
Let’s just say: June was off the charts crazy around here. And by “here” I mean: Chicago, where I now live; Geneva, Il, where I still work; Michigan, where I went to a conference with my worship grant team; North Carolina, where I took my youth group on a mission trip; Wisconsin, where we went to a family wedding. June kicked my butt.
What I wish I could write about is that crazy mission trip, a trip which I do believe could be made into a movie entitled: “National Lampoon’s Mission Trip” (I want to be played by Julie Bowen, by the way, because I like to imagine that if I was ridiculously thin, that’s what I would look like). However (and I’m serious about this) I’m worried that I might be charged with libel if I speak too freely.
So for now, amidst the general insanity that is my life, seven lovely things for the month of July.
1. We have a backyard. I haven’t had a backyard since I left home for college. My parents haven’t lived in a place with a backyard for about 10 years. Thus, my backyard living has been severely curtailed. But now we have one. Fenced in. Complete with fireflies, bunnies, and a garage completely overgrown with ivy. Sigh.
2. On our commutes to and fro, Zora and I have been exploring ways to drive through as much forest preserve as possible. So far, we’ve seen these magical things: egrets nesting; an elk herd; fireflies like stars; patches of prairie; fields of brown eyed susans; and a blimp.
3. Erik and I fell in love with Carolina style barbecue ( the kind with vinegary sauce), and found a good slow cooker approximation. We’re almost out of our first batch, and I think it’s time to make more.
4. A beautiful thing: Zora playing with her herd of little Moe cousins this past weekend…all of them lighting up sparklers in the twilight right about where their Great Grandpa Orville’s barn used to stand.
5. Speaking of that, sparklers were provided courtesy of Erik’s cousin Amy at her wedding. How awesomely nostalgic, sweet, and meaningful is this: Amy and her now-husband bought Orville & Ruth’s farmhouse and had their wedding under a big white tent that stood just to the side of where the barn was (until it had to be taken down a few years ago). Erik got a little teary, I think, when he first spotted the tent, like a phantom of the barn.
6. Two stops, on that wedding trip to northern Wisconsin, for lunch & pie at Norske Nook restaurants. You would not believe this pie. It is too good to be real. I think it might be a sin to drive past one if these places & not stop for pie!
7. Speaking of weddings: my sister Anna is getting married this fall and she is the BEST BRIDE EVER for selecting a bridesmaid dress for us that is completely rewearable…gorgeous but also appropriate for a minister at a professional function.
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17 June 20117:34 AM
The scene: I’m sitting in my favorite chair, near the gracious windows of the front room of my new home in a Chicago two-flat. This is about 4 square feet that are unpacked enough to be comfortable…but I can reach out and touch stacks of boxes on either side of me.
Boxes which will have to wait to be unpacked because this, my friends, is the eye of the storm: I returned last night from a trip with 8 high schoolers. When I get up from writing this, I will finish packing for a trip with 40 high schoolers. (Although, Erik and the kids an I will fly out ahead of them and get a 36 hour sabbath before we are again responsible for teenagers.) The cab arrives to take us to the airport in 4 hours.
So, from this place, 10 things:
1. I could not be prouder or more blessed by the 14 high schoolers who worked on our worship grant this year. Eight of them went to a conference on the grant this week. They were engaged and engaging, inspirational and articulate, and excited about worship. I think they blessed the entire conference with their presence and enthusiasm. The Church is going to be OK!
2. I think we can officially say that Abram has a lovely personality. He went along on this trip and had a terrible cold and cough. In spite of that, he was still a smiley flirt whenever he got the chance.
3. I think we can also officially say that Zora is exhausted.
4. Erik went to the kindergarten meeting at Zora’s potential public school. It sounds like an excellent place. Top notch. Please note: it is a Chicago Public School. Not every school in CPS is a frightening vortex of disfunction. What’s sad about that is that some of the schools are so terrible that the district averages out as horrific even with some very good individual schools. At the same time that I am thankful that we have the means to live within the boundaries for an excellent elementary school, it breaks my heart that we are in a district where many many many children are so neglected by their school system. And, now that I love within that district, I have to recognize that there are ways in which I am even more responsible for their education. (Although, I also firmly believe that I was before as well…as a resident of the state of Illinois.)
5. We picked paint colors for the new living room to be soothing: basically, our living room and dining room are the color of pea soup. Because I am Dutch, and nothing is more comforting to me that pea soup.
6. On a walk last week, Zora announced that we should call the new neighborhood “New World”, and then proceeded to (loudly & cheerfully) greet people by saying, “Hello! Welcome to New World!” I, of course, read this theologically, and find some eschatology in it. The Bible begins in a garden and ends in a city…
7. Erik has 3 hours of his life back every day. I now have several days a week when I commute over 50 miles with two small children in the car. You can draw your own conclusions about how that is affecting our life.
8. It’s Erik’s big week. Our wedding anniversary (12 years); his birthday (34); and Father’s Day coming up. I told him to buy himself a new bike. Which he soundly deserves since the bike commuting in the suburbs through the winters actually rusted through his old bike.
9. All of the “big” numbers in # 8 are completely smacked into perspective by the fact that Erik’s Grandma turned 101 last week. I think her greatest accomplishment is being the generator of the Moe clan. And not just because she’s a woman of a generation where raising your family was the main thing you did. More because they are, in fact, that incredible.
10. While I was visiting Michigan last week, I had the lovely surprise of spending a few minutes with my seminary buddy Heidi and her brand-spanking new daughter Zoe Beth. (This is her third baby…my other good seminary buddy Meika is pregnant with her third as well, which means I am behind!) We spent a fine half hour in the Calvin Seminary Student Center, chatting and catching up. Much discussion turned to being a mama and a pastor, and I’m fairly certain that we may now hold the record for most times saying “boob” on the premises of the seminary.
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17 June 20117:14 AM
I just spent three days on the campus of my seminary (Calvin) and its attached college, shepherding eight teens (plus my own two little kiddos) through a conference for recipients of the worship grant that we were gifted with this year. That was the main event, for me, of those three days.
Meanwhile, the campus was hopping with other activity: the Christian Reformed Church Synod and, overlapping with it, the Reformed Church General Synod. Big personal excitement: I got to see two friends (briefly) who were delegates to each.
I think about denominations and the fracturing of the big-C Church every time I visit my old seminary, because I am no longer a minister of the denomination that raised and formed me. It’s bittersweet to see my classmates, not to be a delegate to Synod with them, not to serve on the same committees, not to be part of that body anymore. I miss them.
And I miss some of the wonderful quirky things about my old denomination (Canadians, conservative theology with a hefty dose of liberal social justice, peppermints in worship, even stubborn old Dutch guys who have trouble with change…)
I don’t think I’m ever going back, though. Five and a half years after becoming Presbyterian, I’ve gotten comfortable here. I think I want to stay.
I used to think of myself as an exile, but the truth is that I chose to leave. Largely for better and more opportunities to serve.
A friend who has a similar ministry path through the denominational wilderness recently mentioned that she uses the metaphor of immigrant to describe her journey. And so the old denomination becomes the old country…but by now, she’s firmly settled in the new country, enjoys visits to the old country, but knows that she lives where she belongs. That’s helpful to me.
But I still miss “home”.
The CRC and the RCA, which have a secure ecclesiastical relationship with each other, had their Synods overlap partly to conduct some joint business, but, I imagine, also to poke around the edges a little at the idea of inter-denominational unity, and maybe, just maybe, the nagging suspicion of some that these two denominations ought to consider getting back together. (They parted way in the late 1800s over issues that since have largely become irrelevant.)
My friend who’s an RCA delegate mentioned to me that for some people in the RCA, the more pressing question is not unity with the CRC, but with the PCUSA.
And then, there’s me, the (Dutch, Calvin Seminary educated, CRC-ordained) Presbyterian minister wandering around this campus where you can’t throw a peppermint without hitting a Reformed elder or pastor. And I’m wondering if I might live to see the day when all three denominations could get together. That might be the only way I get to go home. I wish I could be more hopeful about the possibility.
Of course, there’s always hope for the joyful reunion of the Church in the New Creation…
(Come quickly, Lord Jesus.)
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4 June 20118:07 PM
Conversation while unpacking the kitchen this afternoon.
Erica: How many wine glasses do we HAVE?
Erik: As many as we registered for when we got married.
Erica: Why in earth did we register for do many? When have we ever served that many people wine? What were we thinking?
Erik: Apparently we thought we were going to be living a life of debauchery.
(I married this man almost 12 years ago, in large part because he is entertaining…and so far, our marriage has survived 7 moves. So have at least 18 wine glasses, and I’m pretty sure a few more are hiding in the last few kitchen boxes.)
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27 May 20115:58 PM
Hello, blog, it’s been awhile.
So, a few things to keep it interesting.
1. Abram is a ridiculously strong child. I will not be shocked at all if he’s crawling early, let alone walking. This kid’s favorite activity, at 3 1/2 months, is to stand while holding your thumbs. He thinks it’s hilarious.
2. Teenagers at my church have led two incredible worship services in the last couple of weeks. We are blessed at FVPC right now with a crop of worship nerds. I say that with all love and admiration. This bunch is perfectly happy to spend a morning or afternoon planning worship. But it’s not only that, they are also, as our friend Jonathan Rundman (who led a workshop for us earlier this month, put it) incredibly cool, but also accessible. His description was accurately carried through a week later when 4 of our seniors gave testimonies about how God has worked in their lives through our church, and to a one, each was compelling, intelligent, articulate and VULNERABLE with the congregation. Who ever heard of vulnerable Presbyterians?!?
3. Zora had her last day of preschool. I was an utter teary mess all day. Not so much because she’s growing up, but because I will miss, so much, that I get to spy on her during the day. My office window gives me a clear view of the preschoolers on the play ground and in the woods behind our church. What an incredible gift that has been.
4. Zora is also going through this phase where she is simply luminous. I feel like every once in a while, everything about her catches up with itself and is functioning in perfect harmony. And for a few weeks, she somehow glows, not just physically but also emotionally and intellectually. It’s not she isn’t delightful the rest of the time, but there’s something different sometimes. I suspect other kids are like this, too. Have you noticed it?
5. We are moving in a week. I am in utter and complete denial. Partly because there is no way to get everything done. We have resigned ourselves to hiring the kind of movers who pack for you because we both have to work right up until the day of the move and go back to work right after it happens. Then, just over a week later, I start a string of two back to back mission trips with teenagers (and my own children in tow). I might get a chance to unpack sometime in July.
6. We are moving to Chicago. The reminder that we are truly moving to Chicago came today when the moving company rep who visited for today’s estimate suggested that I should go with his company because they are high class, whereas many of the other moving companies we are considering may very well be run by gangsters. This was made all the more hilarious by the fact that this guy had the sort of thick Chicago accent that (prejudicially of course) would easily have won him a film role as a Chicago gangster. Also, there was one point in the conversation about logistics where I think he was actually talking about bribing our future alderman.
7. I have long dreamed of living in a Chicago two-flat. I don’t know why. I just think they are wonderful little buildings. We are moving into a first floor apartment in a two flat. This aspect of the move delights me!
8. Occasionally, Abram is skipping a feeding at night and giving us 5-6 hours straight of sleep. The only problem with this: it’s occasional. On the days after he does this, I feel about 100% better than usual. So basically, it’s like this giant tease of what will happen eventually…that I will again feel human and rested on a regular basis.
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2 May 201111:00 AM
Dear Zora and Abram,
Last night, the US military killed Osama bin Laden. I imagine that some day you will read about this in a school history class. Maybe it will be a big day that gets its own paragraph. But maybe it will simply be a footnote to September 11, 2001.
This morning, though, it is big news. I found out last night when I was up nursing Abram, reading through friends’ responses on social media. The reactions ranged from contemplative to hateful, cathartic to celebratory, victorious to ambiguous. Those reactions are representative of what we saw on the news as well. People trying to reason through what this means at the same time that some were filling parks and landmarks in New York and Washington, DC and cheering.
I watched this all from bed where I held Abram, nursed him back to sleep, and kissed the top of his head. We were tired after our family’s celebration on May 1: the day Abram was baptized.
And I realized, as I processed the news, that May 1, 2011, was the most important day in Abram’s life: the day of his baptism into the life and death and resurrection of Jesus Christ. At the same time, the rest of the world was noting it as a day of importance for another reason altogether.
I wish that these two days were not the same day, because it makes each event that much more difficult.
At 10 weeks, Abram, and at 4 1/2 years, Zora, I don’t expect that you understand any of what I’m writing here now. But someday, I think we might talk about this. And the day when you understand these things will come quickly…you both grow so fast!
As a mother, I want you both to be safe. I wish for you a world where people aren’t scared; where politics is not incredibly polarized; where there are not whole countries that suffer under endless cycles of war; where you do not have to wonder constantly about the right-ness or wrong-ness of what your country does in the name of security. I am frightened to my core of the possibility that either of your beautiful baby-bodies could one day grow up to be harmed, injured, or killed in any act of violence. But I’m not sure this one man’s death will get us to this place of safety and wholeness. There will always be evil in the world until God’s work of re-creation is complete.
As a Christian, I cannot find space to celebrate death, the death of anyone. I don’t support the death penalty. At the same time, I understand why the soldiers who killed bin Laden did what they did, and I think they chose the lesser of evils.
Some people have said that bin Laden was an evil man. But I believe that every last one of us humans is fallen; created good, but tainted by evil. That evil can be more rampant in the actions of some people, and Osama bin Laden did terrible, evil things: not because he was Muslim; not because he was Arab; not because he hated America. He did terrible things because, like the rest of us, he was fallen, and prone to do evil. Even God, as far as I can figure, does not delight when someone dies. After all, we are each created and loved by God, in spite of our best efforts to be unloveable.
I cannot even, as a Christian, find it in me celebrate that someone may have gone to hell. I’m not, at this point in my life, a universalist. I think there is judgment, and I think there is some sort of hell. And I hope with every fiber of my being that God is just, but also more generous with grace than we humans are able to be…so I hope that the surprise is that heaven is bursting at the seams with people we never thought had a chance to be redeemed.
As for forgiveness, I was relatively personally unaffected by September 11, 2001. It’s not my place to forgive or to prescribe forgiveness for the people who lost dear ones that day (or any of the other days, in any of the other countries, when bin Laden had a hand in death and destruction). The only thing I know for sure is that Christians are called to work toward forgiveness, even if the best we can do is simply to leave forgiveness in the hands of God and pray for wholeness. I can’t imagine how to forgive someone for horrible things like 9/11.
On the day when Abram was baptized, I’ll also remember a day when it was hard to know how to be a Christian.
This morning, Melinda preached on forgiveness. The Spirit must have guided that choice, because we were all going to need that sermon later that evening.
I don’t know that this man’s death will make any grand difference in the movement of our world toward God’s healing and peace. I don’t know how it will look when you both are old enough to look back on history.
I do know that you are both loved and cherished by God, and in baptism you are both called to work toward the reconciliation of God’s creation, and hope for the shalom, the wholeness, of this world.
While it is the greatest joy of my life that the two of you are God’s own covenant children, this morning I am waking up to the solemn reality of your responsibilities as followers of Jesus, and my own baptismal pledge to teach you how to follow him.
May God give all of us wisdom, grace, and strength to know the way.
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2 May 20112:09 AM
How do I reconcile the events of this day?
I believe that his baptism today is the single most important event in Abram’s life. Not his life so far, but his whole life.
And now that day has ended with an historic death and celebration in the streets. And, in many cases, it seems, sentiments that are difficult to square with a Christian ethic of forgiveness.
I’m not saying that I’m not, in some sense, relieved that Osama bin Laden is dead. But celebrating any death feels wrong.
And how to explain someday to Abram that the day of his baptism was historic, but not exactly a day when God’s intended wholeness of the world was restored?
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