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 have to do better. The black-and-white thinking on almost everything may be easy, but it leaves no room for the beauty of creation.

Adhering to rules is not holiness… especially when shame is how we ensure that adherence. In shame, there is no room for love. And without love, we have escorted God out of the church. Then it’s just a courthouse… and the shaming judgments issued there place us all into cells of isolation.

I’m leaving the building today, not the call, the Church, or my faith. But I’m leaving the courthouse.

I might’ve ignored it before
or tried to erase it. Today, I’m holding space for the whole of life. Good and bad, happy and sad, easy and hard…

Whether I ever officially pastor again in the Church of the Nazarene or not, it will always be part of my history.

It's history

You can't rewrite it

You're not meant to be

Trapped inside it

Every tear brought you here

Every sorrow gathered

It's history

But every mile mattered

Every road and every bend

Every bruise and bitter end

All you squandered, all you spent

It mattered, it mattered

Mercy always finds a way

To wrap your blisters up in grace

Every highway you'd erase

It mattered, it mattered

But it's history

It don't define ya

You're free to leave

It all behind ya

Every tear brought you here

Every sorrow gathered

It's history

But every mile mattered

-Nicole Nordeman