When Life is Like "Breaking Bad"

It's been two weeks since Sarah Bessey commented on my "When Baptist Women Go Wild" blog post, and I've been too terrified to write until now.  Sometimes the things you dream about actually happen, and instead of giving you courage, it just intensifies the voice of the inner critic.  I've always wanted to be known for my writing, to have a voice that can connect with and encourage others.  I love the power of story, as a listener and a writer.  But my doubts whisper that I have nothing meaningful to say, that the affirmation I've received is a fluke, unmerited, or a dangerous precursor to pride.  When I began writing, it was for me, yet I felt alone.  Now that others read my thoughts, I struggle with the temptation to become something I'm not, to lose myself to gain the appreciation of others.

When I get overly stressed, I tend to get sick and lose my voice.  It has always seemed to be my body's (or God's) way of getting my attention when all else fails.  As a minister, I need my voice, but the loss of it forces me to stop working and care for myself.  There are times when fear results in me losing my writing voice, a sickness called writer's block.  And so I have forced myself to sit and put the words on a page, returning to the practice, the spiritual discipline of writing as the creative urge was initially born in me.

It's been a dark couple of weeks, filled with news of violence and death.  It's not out of the ordinary these days, sadly; but these incidents have hit closer to home.  My students have recently lost family members, a student at a nearby university was killed, our church community has suffered through loss and tension, and the local news is filled with senseless acts of brutality and pain.  We are surrounded by reminders of gratitude and thanksgiving, but our hearts are heavy.

I recently finished watching the TV series "Breaking Bad" with my husband.  We went through the five seasons in about a month and a half, riveted to the premise that a "good guy" could turn so bad.  I kept searching for signs of redemption.  I connected with the characters early on and wanted to know there was hope for them.  Sometimes it was realized, and other times I had to live in the tension.  It's a lot like life (not the meth part, but the tension between good and evil, light and dark).  We walk through dark times, searching for the light.  The greatest tragedy is when we lose all sense of hope and get sucked into the darkness.  But I'm realizing more and more that the light is always within us.  As a Christian, we claim the calling that we are to be people of light.  We are reminded that the "light shines in the darkness and the darkness has not overcome it" (John 1:5).  Jesus is that light and is the source of our hope, the example that resurrection is real.  The very desire to seek the good and lament the bad is evidence that there is a greater hope that calls to us.  So shine brighter, you lights; recognize the light within and set the world ablaze with the promise that the darkness will not win.

Things you learn in June (synchroblog)

This post is part of a synchroblog at Chatting at the Sky:

http://www.chattingatthesky.com/2013/06/28/lets-share-the-things-we-learned-in-june/

I've dreamed of becoming a writer my whole life.  My pride was somewhat deflated in seminary when a professor returned a paper with the comment, "You could be a good writer." It seemed more like pointing out my failure than praise.  After struggling with fear, doubt, procrastination, and downplaying my own work while uplifting others', I'm finally claiming the title writer after having a few things published over the past months, the latest being an essay in this fantastic compilation:

I also had an essay included in this book, released in November:

And an essay on Burnside Writers in May.

In spite of these and writing on this blog for several years now, I was hesitant to label myself as a writer.  I don't know what I was waiting for (the worldwide acclaim is unlikely to happen).  I suspect it's that inner voice of fear that I'm not good enough or won't be taken seriously.  But the message I keep receiving time and time again from different venues is that fear doesn't win; love does.  I need to start listening and living like I believe that.

I saw something on Pinterest that said "too many people undervalue what they are, and overvalue what they are not."  I compare myself to others and feel defeated, and yet the only one I should be comparing myself to is me.  Am I reaching my goals and God-given potential?  Am I serving authentically in love?  Am I engaging my passion?

Writing for me is about expression and connection.  It is a release that helps me to find meaning (and God) in the chaotic messiness of real life.  It is a need, and much as rest and sustenance.  I write because it is part of who I am...a writer.

When Baptist Women Go Wild

I am an ordained Baptist minister, chaplain at a women's college, mother of two, and I am a Jesus Feminist
(a community sourced Facebook project of Sarah Bessey )

I've been a pretty committed rule follower for most of my life.  I loved school with its structure and predictability, and the rewards that came with doing what was required.  My mom would tell you that I never gave her any trouble as a child, and although this isn't quite true, she did try to encourage me to rebel, telling me that I had earned a little fun.  But I found comfort in meeting expectations (mine and those of others), and liked the accolades that came with it (it was the consolation prize for not earning the popularity I truly desired).

It's no surprise that I grew up in a fundamentalist Southern Baptist church where rules and roles meant so much.  Going to church, learning my memory verses, and helping out earned me gold stars and praise.  Church was a place of connection for me, so I was there often and fell naturally into leadership roles--teaching, singing in the choir, and leading Bible studies.  My volunteering was encouraged, especially as women did most of the work of the church, but without receiving much acknowledgement.  Men were the ones in the official positions of power and leadership (pastor, committee chairs, and deacons). I never thought much about it as it was the only thing I knew, but my mom would tease me about how I would have to learn to be a submissive wife one day.  

Who would have thought that my big act of rebellion would come in going off to college and studying science?  My church had a slight anti-intellectual bent (being Bible based and Spirit-led) and science was posed as being anti-God.  Although my research career didn't pan out, I discovered something even better: ministry.  My call to ministry was the first thing that truly made sense, a connection to my passion and my background of church service.  My family was thrilled...my church, not so much.  It seems that women can't be called to true leadership roles in the church based a literal reading of 1 Timothy 2:12--"I [Paul] permit no woman to teach or to have authority over a man; she is to keep silent."

This affected me about as much as my mom's comments about how a man should be the head of a family: I ignored it.  I had not yet learned about the context of the scriptures that were being thrown at me in rebuttal of my calling, but I knew deep down that the still small voice had called me to something greater.  That calling had clicked in my head and my heart, bringing a sense of peace and contentment that I had not felt before.  With each step towards my new vocation (seminary, ordination, internships), my gifts were affirmed and my faith grew even through the challenges.  I began to lean instead on verses like Galatians 3:28--"There is no longer Jew or Greek, there is no longer slave or free, there is no longer male and female; for all of you are one in Christ Jesus."

Fast forward 14 years and I am an ordained minister (in the tradition that tried to deny me), the wife of an ordained minister turned coin dealer and stay at home dad, the mother of two (a feisty little girl and a strong-willed boy), and the chaplain at a women's liberal arts university.  The feminism that excluded me in my home church is now practically a job requirement as I mentor young women and prepare them for the challenges ahead.  I am a member at a Baptist church that has a female senior pastor and many women deacons, and yet I know there is still much work that needs to be done.  The reminder comes every time I share my occupation and there is a moment of shock or disbelief.  It is having to explain that I am not "that kind" of Baptist.  But sometimes, I revel a little in the rebellion of doing something I'm not "supposed" to be doing and still feeling God's gentle acceptance and affirmation.

I look forward to reading Sarah Bessey's new book Jesus Feminist because I believe that the all-inclusive love of Jesus looks beyond gender, bringing us all into acceptance and service in the family of God.

This post is part of a synchroblog at http://sarahbessey.com/jesus-feminists-synchroblog-giveaway/.