talking (myself) down from a ledge

Photo: Hugh Kretchmer

When I was a young girl, I remember telling my mom I wanted to be a pastor. She looked at me, perplexed. "But women can't be pastors of churches, Joni," she said. Undaunted, I said, "Oh, no, that's ok, I don't want to be a church pastor.  I want to be a pastor out there."

If someone would have told me two years ago that I was going to go to seminary, to become a pastor of sorts, to respond to a call to the ministry, I would have laughed and told them they were crazy. Nothing was further from my mind than pursuing a call to ministry. To me, that meant being a pastor in a church, trying to hide my imperfect life with a perfect facade.  My version of "full-time ministry" was created entirely on disillusion, disappointment, and fear.

One of my application essays to seminary was "Explain your call to the ministry." It took me aback. My call to the ministry? No, that's not what I was doing. I was just wanting to get my Masters in Divinity so I can be a real Chaplain and help people spiritually as well as emotionally! Call to ministry seems like strong language to use for my goals!

Christianity wap-up IV - Jess's story of worthiness

This is Jess's story.

I was born in a small town in the southeastern corner of Oklahoma.  My mother was 15, and my father just 18 years old.  My mother and father made a great team, they were only married a short time but remained friends and did the best they could to raise me.  My mother worked long hours at Tyson’s hatchery sorting out baby chickens and my father for a local tire shop.  I lived with my mother in a small apartment and had weekend visitations with my father.  Some of my earliest memories are of that apartment.  I spent a lot of time with people from our apartment complex that would babysit me while my mother worked.  Around the age of four and five I was molested.  This was a very confusing time for me.  I believe I started internalizing my feelings around this time.  I did not tell my mother about this until I was 26 years old.  I was afraid of hurting her, or that she would blame herself. .. I do not blame her. 

Christianity Wrap-Up Part II - Dawn's Story [the caretaker]

This is Dawn’s Story.

I’m the oldest of 6 kids and all of those kids are either half siblings or adopted. Obviously, I came from a fractured home, and in my case, it was fractured more than one time.

My mom was an alcoholic and a drug addict. I was born in Houston and when I was about two years old, my mom, who was pregnant at the time with my little sister, left her home under the cover of night, took me and moved with a Marine to California. She had my little sister, then eventually my little brother, and I remember from the time I was about five years old being surrounded by people who were doing drugs, drinking, a lot of sex. I remember seeing my mom on drugs and drunk. I was molested more than one time when I was a kid, just being around all the sexual promiscuity, the drugs, and the alcohol abuse.

Christianity wrap up part I - Story of a Survivor

I had the privilege of interviewing a handful of women who opened up and shared their stories with me on how Christianity has changed their lives. Before I move on to mormonism, I would like to share some of those stories with you. These ladies have given me permission to use their information and have allowed me to give them a voice to speak to the world about their relationship with God, for which I am very grateful. These stories are in their own words.

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Photo by Mark Cornwell

This is April's story.
When I was younger, I grew up in a Methodist church. I was baptized as a baby, so I wasn’t aware of what was going on or anything like that, my parents raised me in the Methodist church. I had a lot of fun writing notes back and forth to my friends during the service. I wasn’t really engaging at all. I tried to listen to the sermons, but it was just not my thing at all, even when I got older. 

As soon as my folks allowed me to not go to church, I stopped going to church. It wasn’t because I stopped believing in God – there hasn’t been a moment in my life where I didn’t believe in God. I know that that sounds weird to some people, but my parents introduced me to him at such a young age, that out of the gates, I believed in God. Most of that had to do with my mother and how she raised me, how she treated me, and how she had that hopefulness all the time, happiness seemingly all the time.

On finding peace and breathing

I have been "practicing" yoga. Thats what they call it - you don't DO yoga, you practice yoga, I guess because you'll never be perfect, but you'll always be perfecting your practice.

It has been a journey for me spiritually - learning to breathe. Learning to intentionally relax. Overriding my body and forcing it to submit, to stay still, to bend and stretch. The breathing is something I forget alot - funny how you can forget to breathe. When my legs are shaking from holding Warrior Pose (see below)  for long minutes, and my arms are extended and shaking, I look at a point in the room, then my natural reaction is to hold my breath to still myself.
Hold my breath until I can become steady and strong. Hold my breath until I can regain control. Ah, and there we have my control issues.

vulnerability has a face [and it is beautiful]

About a month or so ago, I met a girl named April when I attended Whosoever Dallas. I was there *I thought* just to interview a few Christian ladies about their relationship with God.

I went in with a whole set of preconceived notions about what I would find there:
I expected "Super Christians" - women with issues who pretended they were perfect, fear and insecurity lacquered over by a thin layer of pink glitter nail polish...

Whosoever who? Whosoever ME??

Note to my readers: I was scribbling down some thoughts for my book today after an amazing service and interview with a group of women last night. I’m still processing some of those things in my heart and mind, but I wanted to share a few thoughts from last night. Thanks again for reading my snippets. JKM

"I felt like a foreigner. While I was living in the [church] culture, I never really felt like I was a part of it... It always felt like I was on the outside looking in, and I would never really be part of that group. I was so frustrated… until I found Whosoever."((Paraphrased))

Authentic me [and you]

:: dedicated to the Whosoever Dallas crowd who graciously hosted me last night! ::

"It is better to live your own destiny imperfectly than to live an imitation of somebody else's life with perfection."

-The Baghavad Gita