three purple hearts

There are a lot of emotions swirling around this morning. I don’t know how much of an ending this is, but at the close of my second pastoral position in Kansas City, the building grief weighs heavy. The gift of balance allows me to also see what has been gained from the brief times in each place. Clarity has certainly increased, at least in some ways… and where that is lacking, direction has been made known for the continued journey. I have never wanted to be a pastor less than I do these days. But the call has never been clearer or made more sense. The coming weeks and months will hold much of my own work to be done as I continue to engage with the pain inflicted by the church that cuts deeply into all the aspects of who I am so that I can continue to be and live as a, healthier person in holy love. The Church of the Nazarene was the foundation upon which I was raised. Its heart for people love for the world, and call to holiness raised me into the person I am today. But, church… we h...

This very well sums up where I feel like I am these days. I have wished with every fiber of my being that so many different pieces of life wouldn’t come down to what they have… But they did. And the only choice I have is how to live well in what the circumstances are or living in a fantasy world that will not allow real love or foster true connections. I’ll take real and connection over pretend and performance any day… even in circumstances I wish hadn’t needed to happen in my time. And I’m so thankful for those both older and younger who are making the decision to stand in authentic love, too. It’s not easy, but it’s real. Let’s change the world, friends… One love at a time.

I did a thing today... and I'm not free to say precisely what it is yet. But it's a big thing that is difficult to fully process the impact of. The reality is that so much of life has both positive and negative that have to be held simultaneously. Good things may have sadness around the edges, and it has been difficult to see the good sometimes because it is counter to what I was always told good would be. I'm called to ministry. I believe I'm called to pastor. There has been so much affirmation of the effort I have put in and the work I feel called to do. But as I listen to what God is saying, I'm thankful that there are things that fill in space and time and needs when my obedience takes me to uncomfortable places. Thank you to all who believe in me... you have loved me through to a place where I believe in myself. Welcome to the weekend and the next week of the rest of our lives. I love you, friends!

I heard a story from a video I was watching last night about a person who was wearing a shirt that labeled them unworthy, which had been given to them by people who should have loved them. Man, did that hit hard. Talking around the reality of shame and its impact on my life, there is a growing understanding of some of the more insidious cracks through which it has crept in and the holes in which it gathers. Recent weeks have given me the sense that I’ve been handed a shirt that labels me unwanted. It’s not a new shirt by any means. Over the years, I’ve tried to get rid of it. It’s stained, and dirty, and torn. But it keeps coming back from the most hurtful of places. And the people handing it to me expect me to wear it. Each time I get that shirt back, the shame message with it tells me that if I were more willing to stay broken, then I might be able to fit in… but to do so would have me sacrificing pieces of myself on the altar of conformity instead of finding the places where the hea...

I have officially entered a time in my life when Facebook memories can be dangerous. Sigh. Here's what I'm reminding myself of tonight: Setting boundaries around what behavior I will welcome in my inner circles is healthy. Speaking the truth is often not going to be popular. It's normal and understandable that the losses from doing hard things like setting boundaries will still hurt and require time to grieve. I'm sad tonight. This last year has been hard. Be kind to yourselves. I love you, friends.

In May of 2009, Sean and I had survived the first year of being married and were working through what changes we would be making as he resigned his first teaching position. We had lived in a tiny town in Kansas for just one school year, and staying was not an option. With no other good options coming up, grad school beckoned and over the summer we moved to Wichita. Me and my high school diploma hadn’t settled into any kind of long-term career, and it wasn’t long before I got bored and decided to get a job. Friends that had been in my life since I was a child were living there and offered me an opportunity to apply for an administrative position supporting mental health professionals. It seemed like an intriguing proposition since I had always thought maybe I would consider something in this field when I grew up. So, I went for an interview with the director. I got that job. And I worked there until it was no longer an option. I learned a lot… about the church, the industry, people… mys...

I am so grateful to have been able to serve under Tammy’s leadership, even for a short time. This transition is not without the deep sadness of many leavings, but we go believing that God is in it, and I am so proud of her dedication to living into health. The coming month will be a difficult one. But growth comes from exertion. Thanks for praying, friends. I love you.

When addressing problematic behavior, we should never question whether physical violence has occurred to gauge whether or not abuse is happening. Abuse is not only physical. Full stop. In the church, we have become so tolerant of behaviors that violate a person's humanity that this seems to be one of the primary ways we judge whether someone is validated in standing up for themselves. The diminishment of a person in physical, emotional, intellectual, or spiritual ways (and all the other forms therein implied) is abuse. If you have spoken up and been silenced, if you have spoken up and been dismissed, if you are still trying to find your voice... I'm listening. I'm holding space for you. I will stand up for you. Whether I know you personally or not, you matter. Beyond race, gender, orientation, denomination, belief... beyond any classification of humanity, I am here if you need help surviving any abusive situation. I love you.