Here

It's been a long time coming, but my blog has been made-over and I can finally return to blogging. When I started blogging over 10 years ago,  I was a completely different person and the world was a completely different place. Blogging is more of a profession than a hobby anymore, it seems, but I have decided that I miss having a place to think, share and teach.  I have missed the slow therapy of writing out my thoughts to untangle them for my own good.  I have missed the interaction and the opportunity to let my own experiences benefit others.  I have missed being transparent about my thoughts, feelings, doubts and questions.  And I missed being able to collect our family experiences into a chronological place.  So for all those reasons, I am back.

I find myself in a strange season of life where I meet every day with some plans and goals like a small compass in a sea of change and unpredictability. I used to have a strong sense of leadership over my time, but for now, I find myself in a role of reaction as much as pro-action.  The needs of children and church and friends and work bubble up often but unpredictably.  I've never been great with interruptions, so I just have to leave a lot of margin for the days and not expect as much from myself as I used to.  Each day has a plan laid out and when things happen that take me off script, I return to the script when I can and try to keep going.  It is slow and awkward and halting. But I am ok with it all because at 41 years old,  I know now that things will change... the things I hate and the the things I love.

For a long time, my three oldest kids were kind of the backdrop in the story, but now they are leaders in the play.  Having a 16 year old, high school junior who is plotting her future which always includes leaving has a way of making everything feel a little more urgent.  My 14 year old son will never be smarter, faster, stronger or hungrier than he is now.  Except maybe next year.  If my oldest pulls, then he is the pusher. More, faster, and better are his horizon.  For the first six months of 6th grade, I have been expecting the normal storm clouds from our sweet 11 year old.  I got lulled into complacency only to have puberty, adoption questions, and sixth grade mean-girls hit like some kind of perfect storm.  And then just as Jim Gaffigan described having four kids, "It's like you are drowning and somebody hands you a baby."  Miss Baby is 16 months old, still expecting eye-teeth any moment now and parroting everything that happens around her from smart phones to toilet paper to eyeliner. We laugh a lot more these days.  And we are exhausted like never before.

Our church continues to thrive.  Against all odds, this haven of love and community is healthier than ever before and is no longer a baby church, a seedling. It is a strong sapling that has done plenty of bending and not breaking in the past year.  This is where I both give and get back much of my energy. It took me a long time to realize that my life has always been tangled up with the life of church, and I wanted to make that commitment more formal.  So over a year ago, Robb suggested I seek ordination through Vintage Fellowship and that is what I am doing.  Writing out my beliefs in my paper is teaching me so much, but it is a slow process that I cannot skip over quickly.  Some days I think I should go to seminary at some point and some days I remember that 15 years of experience is the same as grad school.  I have 20 years.  This path will lead me to teaching, writing, and speaking more and developing the art of sermon-crafting, not to mention helping with weddings and other official roles.  I alternate between terror and excitement about this. It makes me feel alive in a way I haven't before.

Almost 14 years ago, I started selling things I bought at rural Michigan auctions and garage sales online.  That led me to making mosaics from the imperfect things I found and I find such deep satisfying metaphor in the finding and making process.  But I have discovered that this part of my life, once so vital to our financial survival, feels like it is taking a smaller role in my life.  It's hard to describe in any concrete terms, but maybe the best way to explain is that I'm not looking to get famous from my Etsy shops. I love them. I work them.  I am even teaching my oldest kids how it all works, hoping to apprentice them and give them some practical skills. I will always be creative, but I don't know if I will always be a vintage seller.  That part of my story could change.  And yet, I live in the tension that this  is still a part of our income and what we depend on to meet very real needs.   It is good work. I am grateful for it.  I don't hate my job. It is a very natural extension of my values, skills, experiences and interests.  I am so lucky!

Everyday now, I find new things that I am thankful for. And every day I think of very good people and things I just cannot give myself or my energy to right now.  So gratitude and grieving happen most every day.

Most days, I have to just live with the fact that I have disappointed someone in one way or another.

I couldn't interact on Facebook as much.  I turned down a craft show that would have been fun.  I left my Christmas lights out too long.  I didn't go to the party at the cooperative gallery I am a part of.  I can't get on top of sending birthday cards to my nieces and nephews. I missed a chance to spend time with one of the kids. It's hard for me.  For so long, I thought of myself as someone people could depend on.  I don't know if they can right now. This is the part of my story that is about trying more than it is about achieving.  Sometimes that really depresses me.  But then I think back on how things can change....how they have already changed, and I know that I want to keep trying.

Most Offensive

Recently, one of my readers sent me a blog post to read and interact with. He and I know each other from our Christian school days, and through the magic of Facebook, we reconnected.  I think that some of the conclusions I have come to and the questions I ask on this blog have bothered him.  I'm pretty sure I understand the gist of the blog post he sent me and the gist of what he believes, because it's very much what I used to believe too.  

You see, it isn't that I don't believe in the gravity of God and the weight of Scripture anymore. It isn't that I don't believe in "absolute truth" as a concept anymore. It isn't that I don't think the Bible is true.  What I believe now, though, is that none of us can contain it all. Like a plastic water bottle in a hot car, we leak bpa an other toxins into the water of Truth. With our worldview, our understanding of culture, our personalities, our prejudices, our limitations, our frustrations, we muddy the truth in some way or another.  Even the idea of Absolute Truth is a product of modernism and the Enlightenment. And so it is with humility that I now approach what I think I know about God and the Bible.  I attempt to live out what I understand it teaches, while being aware of the good in other denominations, other cultures and even other faiths.

The blog post I read suggested that the most offensive thing to irreligious people is that God exists and has revealed Himself and His expectations of human beings in the Bible and that we are all responsible to follow those expectations or will face judgement for our choices. 

I want to suggest that that really isn't thing what makes many Christians so offensive to the rest of the world. I see people willing to live in submission to many things they believe to be true: they eat vegan or gluten free. They limit themselves in uncomfortable ways because of their beliefs about the environment. They submit to a lifestyle of doing without because of their beliefs about the way the government is broken.  They live in harmony with other people who believe differently from them politically, culturally, and religiously. What IS horribly offensive to them about the typical Christian is the arrogant stance that their interpretation, their church, their version of Christianity is the one TRUE way and everyone else must believe exactly like them because God is happiest and most pleased with their flavor of Christianity. 

Recently, I read an article about a girl who was part of the Westboro Baptist Church...you know who they are...the ones with the terrible signs showing messages of confrontation against those they disagree with.  While most fundamentalists of my childhood are embarrassed by this church and their activities, many of them hold nearly the exact same set of beliefs.  This girl was suddenly taken with the idea that maybe in all the world, and in all of history, how could it be that her church was the ONLY true church? How could they be the ONLY ones who were right?

I love the Bible. I follow Jesus.  And I humbly admit that I might be wrong in the way I understand the Bible. There are many parts of it that are hard to understand, hard to accept, hard to explain. There are parts that can be offensive.  But I personally don't need to be offensive. I don't need to make it harder for people than it already is by not understanding the culture where I live.

We live in a world that is post-modern and post-Christian.  I think many Christians are deeply unsettled by these facts. They are angry that things changed, much like people get mad when Facebook changes some feature. They want things to go back to "the good old days."  I'm not sure "good old days" ever really existed, but if they did, they are over now. Suggesting that people hate God and just want to defy Him are weirdly comforting ideas to Christians who can't seem to get the hang of this new way of thinking. It creates a straw man to fight. And I see it every single day on Facebook. The comfort of "us" against "them."

As Christians, we are called to show others what God is like. It grieves me that too many Christians are showing that God is against others, that He hates them, that He can only be satisfied if others join up with a group of people who are arrogant, self-satisfied and offensive. They don't listen. They don't love. They are hypocritical. They are rude. They are a little bit ignorant. They offer easy answers and very little practical solutions. They are only interested in people becoming just like them. That is the most offensive thing about Christianity.

2013 - The Year of the Whisper

A couple of months ago, Robb asked for some of the women at our church to speak for a few weeks.  I felt really compelled to volunteer, which was crazy because I was pretty busy at the time. Not only did I feel compelled, I had a topic and a passage of the Bible in mind.  The Saturday before I was to preach found me writing away at a sermon from the story of Elijah. But as the day dragged on, I was having trouble landing the plane.  I could plainly see how my own story and Elijah's story had some similarities. I could deeply relate to this ancient prophet. But I didn't know what the point of the story was. It is a daunting thing to stand before a group of people and talk, but it gets nightmarish if you don't have a point.

Late in the afternoon, while reading the passage aloud while Robb took the kids to run errands, it finally came together. I had a moment that changed the way I think. And when you change the way you think, you change the way you live.  This year, I will be living much differently than I did last year.  For one, I'm blogging again.  I make no promises about how often, but I am reclaiming how much I enjoy writing and working things out here, not to mention keeping track of what our family is doing and how we are growing and changing.

So here is my sermon, adapted a bit for you.

-->

 ELIJAH’s STORY:  1Kings 18 – 19. 

In brief, Elijah is a prophet during the reign of a bad king and queen, Ahab and Jezebel, in the middle history of the nation of Israel, long after David and long before Jesus. He has pronounced a drought in the land that has lasted for 3 years and Ahab and Jezebel have been championing the worship of a different god, Baal. Elijah has been in hiding but he comes to Ahab and proposes a challenge on top of a sacred mountain.  They have a duel of sorts to prove which god is the real God.  So 450 prophets of Baal try to get him to call down fire and burn up their offering on their alter and Elijah does the same thing with God.  After hours of the prophets of Baal dancing around and cutting themselves to get their god's attention, nothing happens and Elijah makes fun of them.  Then he steps up and says it is his turn.  God promptly shoots fire down from heaven in a no contest TKO of Baal.  Eljah kills the 450 prophets of Baal, demands that the people worship the true God, beats the king down the side of the mountain in a race wherein the king is in a chariot and Eljah is on foot, and finally, it begins to rain for the first time in 3 years...a gully-washing deluge.

The next day (or shortly thereafter) after his massive triumph, Elijah gets word that a furious Queen Jezebel is going to kill him. Elijah is terrified and takes off on a 200 mile journey to Mt. Sinai, only stopping along the way to ask God to kill him because he is completely overwhelmed and discouraged.  Instead, God feeds him via an Angel-chef and gets him to the mountain where they have a little chat.  God asks Elijah why he is there and Elijah answers succinctly. In response, God puts on a little demonstration:  first a great wind, possible a tornado. But He is not in the wind. Then a fire. But He's not in the fire. Then an earthquake, but God isn't in the earthquake. Finally, God whispers. And God is in the whisper.  He asks again why Elijah is there and Elijah repeats the same words he used before. God tells him to go annoint another prophet to work with him and reminds him that there are thousands of other prophets like him that are being faithful to God and that Eljah is not alone.

MY STORY:
When I was a little kid, I heard this story in church. I think that as a kid I liked the part where Elijah calls down the fire and shows everyone that God is really God. I liked how big it was and how effective it was and how God just SHOWED them that he was boss. I liked the part where Elijah outruns the chariot and how he is like a superhero.

Now that I’m an adult, I think I resonate a lot more with the “Please just kill me” part.

Several months ago, I had a really unusual experience. I was standing in the back at the computer, running the slides. It was the Sunday after Labor Day and Robb mentioned in passing that it was Vintage’s 7th birthday. I think there was some clapping or some small acknowledgment and the service just went on as usual, but I mentally sort of checked out. I don’t know if other people are like this, but I struggle to be "in the moment." I think it’s because I am taking in a lot of details all the time and there is usually some kind of delay between my taking in those details and my organizing those details into some kind of usable information. I think that is why I like history a lot, because there is a lot of time to organize the details and interpret them in a way that makes sense.

In this case, it took me several hours to organize what happened in my mind at that moment. The service was over and we had had lunch and were at home, getting ready to Sabbath ( which is a fancy Sunday word for nap!) when I started to cry. Robb was holding me and I was trying to explain that I wasn’t excited about the fact that Vintage was seven years old. But the only words I could come up with were “We still can’t get people to work in the nursery.” Which doesn’t make a lot of sense to you all, probably because we have Hannah and she does an amazing job of running the nursery. But back when Vintage started, on our very first Sunday, we had NOBODY to run the nursery. We had contacted college ministries on campus and people who went to Fellowship Bible Church’s Saturday night service and put out emails begging all 10 of the people we knew in NWA to work in the nursery.

And then on the Friday night before our first service, we got invited to dinner at some people's house. They had seen our signs advertising the church and he checked out the website and invited us to dinner…pretty much without asking her. So she was all prickly and stand-offish at the beginning of the night and then miraculously, at the end of the evening, they agreed to help out in the nursery for just that week and never again….which was pretty much a miracle in our minds. (And we became really good friends to this day.)

Fast forward to that Sunday morning 7 years later, I think we had to scramble a bit because someone needed to switch or some small thing. A church nursery is just one of those things that can make such a huge difference if it isn’t working well. New people won’t come back if there is no nursery, the whole thing can take a church out of commission. It has to be perfect. Like a professional day care.  Or so people say. I don't really believe that but who knows what other people think?  What if this whole church plant FAILS because we don't have a Disney Land nursery?!

So I’m crying and trying to express how really vulnerable I feel. And Robb is nodding and saying “Yeah, I feel that way too.” And then I feel more afraid. Because if he is feeling vulnerable and afraid about how Vintage is doing, then I get really freaked out.

And then the worst part happened. I started to have this feeling of wanting to escape. To get out. To get away from Vintage. To not have to do it anymore. Just get regular jobs and do whatever we want on Sunday mornings. To not worry about how things are going in a church...just show up and smile and sing and eat their free bread and grape juice. To be free of the burden of caring about people. Which was terrifying. Because I’m the kind of person that once I start thinking about something, I’m probably going to do it. So much so that all I have to do is say to Robb, “I’m thinking about painting the kitchen….” And he will just groan and roll his eyes. Because once the idea is in my head, I can’t let it go.

So some of you are thinking “You got all this from the nursery?” What’s the big deal? People will sign up. It will be taken care of. To which I have to explain that it’s not just the nursery. It’s our life. For 16 years, we have been in this life. This strange life of ministry.


BACK TO ELIJAH'S STORY
So all that to say, I am feeling with Elijah. I am feeling this intense loneliness that he expresses over and over again. I know what he is saying when he says, “I’m no better than my fathers, kill me now.” I was overwhelmed with fear that I was going to burn out. And I don’t know what to do about it. Because if I tell people at Vintage, I might scare them. And if I don’t tell anyone, I’m just going to be fantasizing about getting out of here. I am afraid and Elijah is afraid. I am exhausted and Elijah is exhausted. But I don’t know what to do about it. Elijah runs away and I feel myself running away too.

I love the tenderness of God in the story. Elijah falls asleep and the Angel of the Lord cooks him a meal, wakes him up and feeds him. And then he just goes to sleep again. Can you even imagine how nice it would be just to go to sleep and have an angel bring you a hot meal and then tuck you in again?

And then Elijah travels to Mt. Horeb, which is pretty much the same place as Mt. Sinai. They don’t really know where it is now, but back then, it was a known place and Elijah went there and it took him 40 days and nights to travel there. I think he went there looking for some answers. So God asks him why he is there and he rattles off what is bothering him:

“I have been very zealous for the Lord, the God of hosts; for the sons of Israel have forsaken Your covenant, torn down Your altars and killed Your prophets with the sword. And I alone am left; and they seek my life, to take it away.”

He has wrapped his whole life around serving God. He feels alone. He feels ineffective.

I’ve wrapped my whole life around serving you, God. I feel alone. I feel ineffective.

So God tells him to stand out there and see all the big things…the wind, the earthquake, the fire and then the small voice. But God is only in the whisper. And the whisper asks Elijah why he is there. And what does he say? He says the exact same thing. He still feels the same way.

I have puzzled over this exchange for weeks now. I always heard that the point of the story was that God was in the whisper. But if Elijah still felt the same way as he did before, why was it so important? I think the answer is back at the beginning of the story when Elijah is fixing to call down the fire. Lets look again at verse 26:

Then they took the ox which ^[k]was given them and they prepared it and called on the name of Baal from morning until noon saying, “O Baal, answer us.” But there was no voice and no one answered.

Maybe he is showing Elijah through the wind, earthquake and fire that God is very strong, effective and powerful. That He is big enough and worthy enough to wrap our lives around. But at our core, where we feel alone, He is more than just a big powerful force, He is a voice to talk to. He is in a relationship with us. He cares about our eating and sleeping and feeling. This voice goes on to tell Elijah to go on. Go anoint a king who will wipe out Ahab and Jezebel. Go anoint Elisha, who will be his friend, assistant, companion. And oh, by the way, there are thousands of people who are in this with you Elijah. "There are thousands of people who are following Me too, Elijah. You aren't alone." He addresses Elijah’s fears and frustrations. He provides support. He relates.

I really, really, REALLY find myself in this story.

ME AGAIN
1. Elijah has a major breakdown when his expectations aren’t met. I suspect he thought that everything would be totally different after Mt. Carmel. Instead of everything being on track, he gets a death threat.  I don’t know where I get my unrealistic expectations sometimes, but I know that when we started Vintage, there was this lofty idea that since Vintage was going to be a totally different kind of church, I would be a totally different pastors wife. I know I was scared when Vintage was getting started. So I took that "different kind of pastor's wife" thing to mean that I would not get hurt any more. But instead, I got hurt WORSE.  In the last seven years, I have had my heart broken because of Vintage. I have lost people I cared about. Some people I trusted turned their backs on us.  Relationships that mattered deeply to me have grown thin and evaporated. People have said and believed terrible things about the sweet husband I love and trust. And in tiny ways, people weren't there for me in ways I thought that they would be. The tiny things pile up. The big losses seared my soul.  I didn't want to love or trust anyone anymore. Nothing felt safe. 

2. Elijah was exhausted and lonely because he could only see what he was doing. He cognitively knew that Obadiah was working on his side and those other 100 prophets, but emotionally, he was so alone. In my moment of freaking out, I forgot or failed to see that there are so many of you that are faithful and serving. When I really paid attention to the ways that other people were being even more faithful than me, I didn’t feel nearly as alone. In fact, just spending a little bit of time being grateful for people and saying thank you really helped. The other thing I needed to do was to ask for help. When I did that, I got the support I needed.

3. Elijah needed a forty-day journey. That’s a common amount of time for various people in the Bible to experience a shift in their thinking and that’s why our Experimental Collectives are about that long. In my case, I was in the creativity collective at this time. My initial project shows me like Elijah, like a superhero, calling down the fire, making things happen. There is a part of me that really wants to be that super-hero, but then I’m crushed by how ineffective I am. I want to be the kind of pastor’s wife who wants to teach the kids and clean the church and be very administrative. I feel like I should be whatever is needed, whether I want to do it or not. Whether I have the skills or personality for it or not. If it needs to be done, I should do it. Because that’s being a leader, right? That’s the way to show I care about God and about you. Better to burn out than rust out, right?

It was a really big moment for me the night I did a self-portrait. I’d never done a self-portrait before. I’ve never had an art class. Never painted with anything other than little craft paints. There was something really freeing about just going ahead and painting. And that’s when it occurred to me that it would be a lot more interesting if God was to speak through me through my art. It’s not as obvious and effective as fire, earthquake, or being good at planning events, but maybe it’s the whisper, the still small voice that is needed. It seems like he is not worried about being effective as much as he is with being in relationship with us.

It took me all this time to figure out what my melt-down meant and why it happened. I took this story to help me understand how I had such crazy expectations. It took this story to really grasp the idea that God is fully capable of working through the big, obvious stuff, but he is also fully God in the whisper. And if He is ok with that kind of limitation, I can be too.

Vintage, go in peace....
-----------

So, 2013 is the year for me to whisper.  For so long, I have been afraid to do things because they wouldn't be good enough, wouldn't be effective enough, wouldn't make a big enough dent.  I was afraid to enter relationships because they might end badly. I was afraid to just be myself because maybe that wouldn't be important enough. I was afraid to say no and I was afraid to say yes. I was afraid to do anything good for the world because it wouldn't be enough. This year, I'm ok with whispering. I'm ok with being small and unremarkable. I'm ok with not being a big show. I'm ok with people taking me or leaving me (I might not actually be okay with that, but I'm working on it.)

I still think it is kind of crazy that God would make me this way instead of creating me with a passion to plan events, co-ordinate ministries, manage people effectively, teach the young and the old, host people in my home at a moment's notice, sing like Adele, play an instrument with any skill, or just generally get my ya-yas from doing any job that nobody likes to do at church. Instead, he strapped me with a reclusive, overly-analytical, introverted nature that is most often set free to worship when I am out in nature or covered in the dirt that only comes from "making stuff."  I need things to be pretty.  What good is that?

Apparently, it's good enough.

Sacrifice

It's the first day of Lent and I'm still a little fuzzy on what it is that I am giving up. It has something to do with freeing myself from the jealousy you feel when you see other artist's work and despise your own. And it has something to do with getting back in contact with my own inner dialogue that I used to be able to write very freely about here on this blog. 

What I know for sure is that for the last two months, I have wrestled deeply with my life and loves.  Depression, anger, grief and confusion were my close companions. It took me a long time to realize that I was angry with God. Maybe "angry with God" isn't even the right phrase. Because there are times when anger at God is a really correct response to Him that fits with horrible circumstances.  Maybe more accurately, I was petulantly sulking about God. 

It's a little hard to explain, but without going into a lot of details, I lost a friendship through church. The simple story is, that if it wasn't for church, I would never have gotten to know her but if it wasn't for church, I would never have lost her friendship.  For a long time, I was just in an emotional fog. I knew I was deeply depressed and I remembered hearing that depression can arise from anger that is turned inward. I had a hard time even identifying that I was angry. It's amazing how we humans have the ability to stuff away, gloss over and minimize unpleasant realities.  We adore the English manners on Downton Abbey because their avoidance of discussing anything unpleasant creates such a cobweb screen over reality.  Why bother being angry?  It won't change anything.  Just skip to depression where you can wallow for a while, and retreat from the the world.  Unfortunately, it was starting to put a strain on my marriage and parenting.  Your friends may be able to let you off the hook when you say you want to be left alone.  Your 10 year old can't. 

The truth?  In the last 6 years...

I lost a(nother) friendship.
My pretty house went into foreclosure.
I have to live far away from my roots and family.
The easy, nostalgic faith I knew is gone forever and even worse,  
God-as I perceived Him for most of my life-has vanished. 

When I started off on this journey of faith, none of that was on the table. It's popular in Bible college to say "Anything for God."  You are young and exuberant and so willing.  "I'll do anything you want me to do, God!  I'll go anywhere!  I give you my life!"    The problem is, so many of the things I was willing to sacrifice for God...I didn't really HAVE. 

My sister often remarks that she can't imagine why I wanted to be pastor's wife.  It used to chafe me a little.  In my more piously annoying moments, I thought..."I AM CALLED to be a pastor's wife, that's why I want to be one."   But the reality is that I went to Bible college believing I would spend my life in full-time ministry. It's hard to crawl back into your 18 year old head, but I suppose I thought it was the best way to show the world just how committed to Jesus I really was.  "I'm ready to give my whole life to this!" 

But I didn't really have a life yet to give.

I was very willing to give up something intangible and non-existent. But I doubt I would have been willing, had I been told ahead of time, to give up all the things that make me feel secure:  an established home, connection to my roots, the approval of others, and a faith that I understand and can easily manipulate to keep me feeling safe.  Most of all, I would have been shocked to realize that what I most needed to give up for God....was God.

You know the God I mean: The God who works all things for good!  The God who has a perfect plan for your life!  A promise and a future! The God who answers prayers! The God who provides! The God who carries you on the sandy beach leaving one set of footprints!  Rah Rah, sis boom God! 

I wonder if some of the things we think of as a sacrifice are really just peace offerings to keep God from asking for a real sacrifice.

There's a story about David in the Bible.  He gets it into his head to number the people of Israel. This is a bad move for various reasons.  He repents. God says that he gets to choose his discipline and David chooses pestilence on the people of Israel.  David sees the Angel of the Lord wiping people out with this plague.  But then God says "enough."  And David gets up to make a sacrifice to God at a threshing floor that he doesn't own.  The owner learns that David wants to make a sacrifice there and says, "Take whatever you need for the sacrifice" but David insist on buying it and the oxen he sacrifices. He says this: "I will not offer anything that costs me nothing."

This story is utterly confusing in so many ways. The way God acts in this story defies an easy explanation.  But what David says about his sacrifice makes sense to me.  That sacrifice involves really giving up something that you actually have.

Today, as we begin the journey of Lent, I am keenly aware of things that I have had to give up for this life of faith.  Things that cost me something.  Things that have caused me to cry and question my calling, and question my understanding of God himself.  

I feel like a fool trying to write on this blog again.  I'm in an uncomfortable part of my faith journey that is hard to understand.  Writing about it may even upset some people. But I think it is going to be part of Lent for me this year.  I'm sacrificing the time it takes to write on this blog. I'm denying myself the comfort of closed doors and detachment.  I'm giving up letting myself be oblivious to what's going on in my head and heart. 

New

Sometimes, I just need things to change. And change takes so much time.  So I do what any sane, rational person does....I cut off all my hair to get the change-ball rolling.  I look in the mirror and think, "I cannot seem to do anything about anything, but I can cut off my hair!"  And then next thing I know, bam, wam, POWIE!  I have a new blog set-up, a new banner for my etsy store, and I am thin and organized.  Ok, maybe not the last two, but a girl can dream.

I have been in a funk for a while now with my blog. I haven't really known where it was going anymore.  When I started blogging over six years ago, it was because I needed an outlet to comment on the adventure of starting Vintage.  Now, Vintage is  5 years old and Facebook is the place for pictures of my kids on their first day of school.  But the thought of closing down my blog felt like murdering a friend.  And I still really like blogging....much more than I like tweeting.  So I decided to just tweet about my blog. And blog about the things I still really love...like finding beautiful things in real life and in the cyber world of Etsy, making things, sharing my heart and soul, and occasionally making fun of weird stuff that amuses me. 

Incidentally, the one thing that has been constant in all this time?  The house in Michigan still hasn't sold.  Proof positive that the more things change, the more they stay the same....

Changing

I've been struggling to post here much because the direction of things has changed so much since I first started this blog.  Back then, it was about me talking through my fears and feelings while starting Vintage Fellowship from scratch.  Four and half years later, many of those issues have been resolved and I am involved in other story lines...I'm still as angsty as ever and have lots of my thoughts to write out, but I'm more self conscious about who is reading these days.  And I've also thrown myself into my own business that deserves the best marketing and story telling I can come up with.   So I am thinking seriously of separating the blog into two different blogs...one more business related and the other for those of you who really want to read about the things I think about the most. 

Robb and I have been talking over the strategy involved with really making a go with my business, instead of just dabbling and I can't even tell you how much I have to do to make that happen...I makes me a little dizzy.  I'm not a good starter of new things...I'm not good at projecting into a blank space. I'm much better at letting something just happen and then trying to organize it later.  So I'm at the point where I need to get it organized, which means dismantling a whole Etsy store...my little known sad little stepchild of a shop: The Rick Rack Shack .  Great name, huh?  It's full of vintage sewing patterns, many of them uncut, from the estate of a couple of craft hoarders. I'm talking full-on hoarders, not just the cute thing that sewers do when they save little scraps.  It was a mother-daughter duo who lived together and left what took 5 sales to dissemble.  Only problem is, I'm kind of bored with it and therefore don't have the passion and interest to really make that shop successful.  I love my main shop and care about it the most, even with it's lousy name.  So I'm seriously fixin' to sell the whole bunch of patterns in one fell swoop and be done with it. And that's just the beginning of what I need to do work-wise.

On the main front of my thinking, though, is not making it big in the business of vintage and mosaics.  It's how to live and be in this world in a way that reflects who God is to me and how He is changing me for the good of the whole world, not just for my own benefit. 

I've already flunked at having two etsy shops, so I'm nervous at the thought of having two blogs.  And maybe it's better to just be one person with lots of interests....I'm not sure yet.

I think I just wrote a blog post about not writing blog posts.

AND THE WINNER IS....

Keri!

The drawing went like this:

"Charleigh pick a piece of paper."

"I waaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaant ......This one! What does it say?"

"It's Keri!"

"Who's Keri?"

Just the best college roommate ever.

email me with your new address and the book is all yours, Burchie.

GIVEAWAY!

I'm a little late posting this due to being transporting across time and space, but if you comment, you will be entered to win Kem Meyer's book, Less Clutter, Less Noise. Kem is the communications director of Granger Community Church.

Facebook readers, be sure to leave your comment on my actual blog, not just in Facebook.

Charleigh will help me pick a name from the hat on Sunday morning.

And be sure to follow the rest of the Q&A Blog tour from Kem's blog list of various other blogs.

And if you aren't interested in the book, you will still need to comment if you want to hear the back story of this picture.






Here's My question to Kem and her response:


I have a love/hate relationship with Facebook; I loathe the thought of Tweeting. I see their value, but I also see so many people being sucked into these social networks, wasting hours of time playing games, taking quizzes, sending flair, etc. which seems like the ultimate in clutter and noise. I know these networks have the potential to help us market our church, to market my art and Etsy store, and even the gallery where I display my work. How can they best be used while subtly communicating "don't settle for updates thinking you've experienced the real thing."



KEM
Vanessa, I hear you, girlfriend. I loathe the pokes, surveys, hugs, fish for my aquarium, etc. on Facebook as well. That’s why I block them or ignore them. Just because all of that is available, doesn’t mean I have to use it and it also doesn’t make the other parts less valid. The same holds true for blogging and tweeting. I ignore what’s not helpful and engage with what is.



"Like most areas of life, the greatest dangers often come out of the strongest positives. And we don't stop using good accounting principles because of the bookkeeping abuses of Enron." Phil Cooke



Kelley Hartnett is the Director of Communications at Morning Star Church in Missouri. I love how she broke-down her “Rela- tech-ship”.



I’m connecting with people—more frequently and more consistently than I ever have. In the last few days, I’ve gotten real-time updates from friends about a death in the family, a sudden hospitalization, a first-ever homecoming date and reactions to the presidential debate. I learned that a quiet church guy has an incredible wit, and I discovered that another church guy and I share the same wacky taste in music. All of my in-person interactions with these folks have an undercurrent of community that I’d not experienced before. I’m learning from people—more effectively and more efficiently that I ever have. By paying attention to other church communications professionals, I’m discovering what conferences I need to attend and what books I need to read. During a recent media aftermath, I tweeted an SOS to my social media guru friend who was able to offer immediate, sage advice. And because all of those people know other people, I have a virtually unlimited, instantly accessible network of really smart people at my disposal.



Three years ago, Facebook didn’t even exist. Now it’s the fifth largest “country” in the world. And, it’s not hard to figure out why. Because we relate to smaller institutions and subsets of society much better than we relate to large and remote entities such as Big Business, Big Media, Big Government and Big organized religion--technology has revolutionized the definition of community. Virtual communities and spontaneous new social structures are popping up in personal and professional spaces. They have the tendency to make inhibitions melt away. This can be good and bad. But, mostly good.



Over the past four years, I’ve evolved from a skeptic to an advocate about this subject. Twitter and Facebook, in particular, are currently impacting and strengthening our ministry at Granger in ways I couldn’t have predicted. Contrary to my first thought, technology hasn’t caused everyone to check out of relationships, but rather enhance existing ones.

The most interesting thing about this blog....

I was notified yesterday that I had been chosen to be a member of a blog tour being conducted by Kem Meyer for the promotion of her new book, Less Clutter, Less Noise. At the end of this month, I'll be hosting my first ever give away of her book, and will participate by contributing a question to her Q&A. She's posted a link to my blog from her blog and also on wiredchurches.com, which is a ministry of Granger Community Church.

So maybe a few more people may be stopping by to sit quietly. I had a little panic thinking about that since let's face it, this blog is kind of disaster in a lot of ways....half of you can't see the background because you use Safari. Half of my posts aren't tagged. My tagging system is as random as I am. A bunch of you only read me on Facebook, so I get no traffic credit. I'm baffled by google analytics. I write about whatever comes into my head, so you could be reading about mosaics one day and my kids poop the next. I don't even get very many comments. A lot of you just breeze in and read and sit quietly and then leave without saying anything.

But I decided that the thing that is really interesting about my blog is the people that follow it. I just thumbed through those folks, most of whom I know...and the range of life experiences and perspectives are as wide-ranging as my ideas for things I could paint. For a long time, I only knew one kind of person, one shade of Christianity, one small microcosm of experiences. My blog friends are a rainbow of interesting people from a lot of different backgrounds. Not all of them are "Christians." That's probably because this isn't a Christian blog.

I don't know if I have anything to offer the conversation going on about Kem's book. But if I do, I think it may have something to do with you, not me.

Awkward greeting

Hi Blog. How are things?
I know...I've been pretty busy with ...you know...stuff.
I've missed you, but you know...it's complicated.

A bunch of people had babies
a bunch of people graduated
I wondered if I should take the meds again
The sun came out
I hurt my back...it still hurts.
I tried to sell some stuff on ebay for other people and got nothing because ebay sucks now.
I really want to buy a house.
The kids are going to be done with school and my life is about to get really crazy again in that summer-crazy way.
Karen and Matt are ok.
Some other people aren't ok.

It's just a lot, Blog. I don't know where to start.
But maybe after I find out what it's like to get my back adjusted by a chiropractor today, I'll be able to think a little clearer.

And oh yeah, there was blood all over the front yard today and Animal control stopped by looking for a deer that had gotten lost in our neighborhood and broke through a glass window and was running loose and wounded. That was crazy.

Let's talk about Blog Stalkers!

So I keep hearing about people (Trish) who read my blog (Trish) and don't comment because they don't want to be stalkers (Trish). Unless you start a shrine to me in your bathroom, or follow my kids home from school, I promise, I won't think you are a stalker. And of course, Robb put me up to this to drive you nuts.

Lent

This is my fourth time of practicing Lent and it was really clear to me early on what I would give up. I'm giving up my evening ritual of having a glass of red wine during the week. There are different traditions about practicing Lent, some fasting for an unbroken amount of time, and some, taking a break from the fast on celebration days. I've decided to go with the latter.

When I told my friend Hannah about my choice, she wrinkled her nose and asked, "WHY?" The short answer is, "Because it would be hard."

The kids heard Robb and I talking about it and they decided they wanted to participate too. I told them that because they are kids, they don't have to, but they were adamant that they wanted to take part in this. So after some debate, Vin decided to give up Legos. He could not be convinced otherwise. Mattie opted to give up arguing with her brother. I'll be curious to watch how this plays out for these two. Charleigh gave up Sesame Street. But when questioned, she volunteered that it's because she's too grown up for Sesame Street.

Robb has created a beautiful blog to exchange our thoughts about Lent. Please feel free to join that discussion if you are interested.

My ability to blog continues to elude me. I wish I could express more and express it better, but my life has changed a lot in the last few years, and I feel an increased loss of freedom to express things here....or maybe a feeling of being over-exposed...like who really cares about what I think? And I have a lot more actual people in my life. It's no wonder that my feeling for blogging has changed. It's as if I've told all my secrets...

I wonder if the Pioneer Woman ever feels that way? But then again, she can always show some calf nuts or give something away.

hmmm

I can't believe I spent the whole day....

working on this new blog stuff. I made it all myself. The wallpaper is my bedroom curtains. The photo of the butterfly is from my studio, through the viewfinder the the Brownie camera I sold already on Etsy. I've been longing to create something but I haven't had the mojo for any more mosaics just yet. I'm not particularly tech savvy, and it took a lot of reworks, but I'm thrilled with the final result. Or the current result anyway....

Green Guilt

This is from a blog I *secretly* read. And if you got at least a "C" in English grammar, may I humbly suggest the side splitting world of The Blog Of Unnecessary Quotation Marks. Seriously, the heat index is going to be 103 today...you might as well have something good to read.

I have SO MUCH to blog about!

I'm not even sure where to start....and so I fear I must treat you to a stream of "conscious-Ness"...

It is good to have my kids back from Virginia. I do not say easier, quieter, or more sane to have my children back, but I do say unequivocally GOOD to have them back. While they were gone, besides acting like honeymooners, we did manage to do some mental organizing...you know, changes we'd like to make to our lifestyle and goals and dreams for the future. This is something I think we are kind of good at...making goals and often achieving them....we did that about 7 years ago and reached all of thee goals except Robb getting a Ph.D. He planted a church instead.

Anyway...we watched very little t.v. and I got some books from the library that are fully holding my attention. I go through fits and starts with reading...it's been a pretty long dry-spell since I really loved a book. Lately, though, I've gotten a hold of a couple that will be real direction changers.

For example, as part of our God is Green campaign (series) at VF, I picked up Barbara Kingsolver's Animal, Vegetable, Miracle. This book deserves it's own post, so I'll try to contain myself, but just so you know, the wheels in my head are turning.

Before we ran out of alone time, we made not one, but TWO trips to Eureka Springs to goof off and be silly. I got it into my head that I wanted to take the Ghost Tour of the Crescent Hotel. We had taken the Williamsburg Lantern Ghost Tour years ago and had so much fun, I hoped this would be too.


This tour made me uncomfortable. I kept expecting my mother to pop around the corner and scold me for dabbling in spiritualism. If our "ter guide" (as he called himself) had stuck to the ghoulish stories of the hotel, it would have been plenty fun. But since our "ter guide" started the "ter" with an explanation of aura's, disembodied spirits and a scolding for anyone putting out bad energy, I found myself kind of hoping to actually see a ghost so I wouldn't feel so guilty for wasting my husband's hard earned money. On the truly positive side, we did get to go down into the bowels of the old building, which is one of my favorite things to do. Again....so much more to post...

Before we started out to Nashville to meet Robb's parents, I got a call from the Heartwood Art Gallery. I took in several of my mosaic pieces...including the Dresden Plate Quilt Mirror...for their consideration. Originally, I was told it would take about a week to make a decision. Then I heard 6 weeks. Hopefully, it is somewhere closer to the former. The good news is that they called to say that several customers had inquired about my work and wanted to know what my prices were. I can only hope that this customer-driven interest will translate into earning a booth to display my wares.

We opted to take a different route home from Little Rock on Saturday, having made the same drive three times in 7 days already. We were delighted with this somewhat longer, but much more picturesque trek.


As soon as we arrived home, a monster storm arrived. I had just finished setting our dinner out on the table when the lights went out. We finished our corn on the cob, baked potatoes and nasturtium and lettuce salad (from our very own back yard) by candlelight. The power was good enough to remain out for several more hours, allowing us to put the kiddies to bed, and have a nice read with a glass of wine before drifting off to sleep feeling very content indeed.

Yesterday was one of the nights we made a meal for our friends at South Church, a ministry to the poor and homeless run by my dear friend, H's parents. I had to miss serving the last meal, which may have fueled my absolutely insane attempt to make lemon meringue, peanut butter, and butterscotch pies entirely from scratch and still make it to the church on time. The short story is that the pies did not set up, I was late, and I also sent a giant pan of baked beans careening about in my mini-van. Literally, I spilled the beans. However, the folks were indeed fed despite my left-handed attempts, and largely because the rest of our church are wonderful, generous and hard working people.

Robb and I awoke in the night to a loud crashing thump, the cause of which we still have no idea about (I'm pretty sure I was thinking GHOSTS!). Robb went to investigate only to find that Sid had voiced her total disgust at all of us for all the leaving her outside over-night and bringing the children back just when she had all the attention to herself....in her own very loud canine voice: that would be poop and pee in my studio. This defies logic, really....they say dogs prefer absorbent locations to do their business. Not so with our dumb dog, Sidney. She invariable opts for tile. It was three a.m. and there we were cleaning up. After washing up, we jumped back into bed, and turned on the tv where we landed upon, I do not kid you, Big Joe's Polka Show...featuring an enormously rotund man dressed in a sparkly pink shirt with see-through sleeves, narrating for a polka band playing for dozens of elderly folks dancing the polka like it is going out of style. We amused ourselves for a few minutes, applying all the church-related complaints we could recall to the swirling, sometimes costumed couples....
"Oh, if only the young people would get involved."
"We're missing a couple of generations"
"I don't know why the college kids don't take it seriously."
"Why don't girls wear dresses like that anymore?"

And then we giggled and fell asleep. And Monday morning dawned, where I made baked oatmeal with home-made whipped cream and a few frozen blueberries from my picking last week. I checked on my garden in my bare feet (don't worry, all the dog-poop was inside). And I confirmed my "friendships" on Facebook.

So now you know...

Good Blogger/Bad Blogger

So I notice from my site meter that the number of unique visitors to Happiness has greatly increased. Unless my 50+ cousins have found me on the web, I guess these readers are not actually people I know. Part of me is a little freaked out by that...I sincerely hope none of you are axe-murderers because that would stink a little bit. But it also makes me a tad self-conscious. Because I am sometimes a good blogger and sometimes a very bad blogger....

For example...I blog often on a variety of goofy subjects, which I am trying to tag and organize. That's good.

On the other hand, my template is probably boring (but I still like it...it's a 50's Barkcloth pattern that looks like butterflies...get it...vintage...butterfly?) And I am horribly disorganized. I write off the top of my head and rarely edit myself at all. The keyboard of my sad but FREE Dell is losing the sensory connection in the keyboard, so when you type a letter, it usually types four of the same letter, so my spelling appears to be horrendous. I'm sure you can voice other things that you hate about my blog.

I can tell you this...My blog plays a certain role in my life which I can't imagine will change...It's my source to communicate what is happening with my family, who are all over the country. It's my way to blow off steam with my friends. It's my venue to work out my opinions and observations and questions. It's my store-window for what I am making and selling. My blog is a pet and a friend.

I know there are bloggers who make money and notoriety for their blogs...and believe me, I read and enjoy some of those blogs. But for me, I hope that my goofy little blog will continue to be just a girl-friend's chat with a cup of coffee in a cozy chair.

Anything you want to talk about? I've had a request for the story of how we adopted. I love to talk wifing and parenting. Want to know more about church planting, being a pastor's wife, or the emerging church? I am proud of being a housewife and decorating my little realm. I am loving learning to mosaic and decoupage. And chatting about my thrift-store finds makes my ebay work much more interesting. So what do you want to hear more about? Get your coffee and write in...

I've wanted to blog all day....

I've been trying to sit down and write all day, but I can't seem to have a point. Unless you call being remarkably, ridiculously grouchy for absolutely no reason at all, having a point. An edge maybe, not a point.

Let's explore the grouchy thing a bit: I have observed that I wake up grouchy for any of the following reasons:
I have to get up too early.

I have slept in too long and now half the day is gone.

I don't know what I want to do with this day.

I do know what I want to do, but I don't really want to do it.

I was awake half the night worrying about spiders, snakes or bankruptcy.

One of the kids woke me up with a bad dream about spiders, snakes, or lately, Great Horned Owls.

Robb is too cheerful.

Robb thinks he is grouchier than me.


Who else is not a morning person? why do you wake up grouchy?

Day One

Well, here I am on our first day without a church, a job, a home. Yesterday was our last day at IBC, and some people didn't even say "goodbye." I guess that means we are just terrible people....or maybe they are terrible people. The house is a disaster, and yet I keep hoping the realtor will call and SOMEBODY will want to check it out. We are going on four weeks on the market and still not a single call. Robb is cleaning out his office today, Mattie is the "busy bee" at school and is wearing the Birthday crown, Vin is watching Bob the Builder and Charleigh is doing her usual Charleigh stuff, taking things out of boxes, putting stray pennies in her mouth, and giving the dog bones that Sidney had tucked away for later enjoyment. It's as gray and dull outside as I feel.

So, why do I torture myself by naming this blog after butterflies and happiness? Well, A.) my name means butterfly, and I guess I'm hoping to figure out who I am without the context of the title "pastor's wife." I don't have to worry about what people think of me anymore. I haven't had that freedom since I was five years old and only my parents and my brother mattered. and 2.) (as Paul Reiser used to say) I am incredibly hopeful. I am sad, but I don't think that being sad negates hopefullness. That's why I am starting this blog. I think that out of the ashes, GOD will bring out beauty. A good story starts with a problem, and I've always wanted to live a good story.