Goodbyes

I wonder why they're called goodbyes. Goodbyes kind of suck actually. They're hard to do, too. Perhaps Badbyes, or hardbyes?  Nah, as tough as they are, there is good to saying farewell. Leaving something behind almost always entails saying hello to something new, and hopefully, something really good. And while I know a new tomorrow in Rogers will be bright and awesome in many ways, leaving this place is difficult - really difficult.

It occurred to me that my last post may have come off overly negative about the last two years as a rural minister. I know now that it takes a specific type of person to minister in a rural setting - and I am not that type of minister. And when you're not cut out for something, all you're asking for is discomfort. Like a round peg (and I am quite round - more on this later) having to repeatedly place myself in a triangle shaped opening just doesn't work out too well. And it was this poor fit which ultimately caused my soul tremendous emotional heartache and unfulfillment. And to make matters (worse?) I grew very attached and close to many people here - so writing off Big Bend and looking for greener pastures was never something I found myself doing. I know now that those relationships and friendships provided enough motivation, purpose and comfort for the time being, but eventually, not even my love for this congregation was able to keep me from needing to find a better fit. And so, even though I know it's better for my sanity and soul for the long term, saying goodbye will continue to suck.

Emotional goodbyes are one thing, and a heart-wrenching experience to be sure, but I am also looking at making some psychological goodbyes as well. As mentioned in my last post, I'm not just in emotional recovery these days, but physically I need to change as well. I enjoyed several years of great health and then..... I turned 30 and the universe I'd come to know and appreciate started to really mess with me. I'm still fairly healthy, but it has become painfully clear to me that I am addicted to dope. Dopamine that is. When you're emotionally unhealthy you start looking for a dopamine fix wherever and however you can get it. So, couple my slowing metabolism with some emotionally tough sledding in my current context and what you get is one starved soul. And so I turned to a good friend, who always knew how to give me something to smile about, albeit briefly, on those cold, dark days of the soul when I was jones-ing for a dope high. What I'm trying to say is that I've been a slave for most of my life - but especially the last two or three years. And my buddy, my master?  SUGAR.

I need to break up with Master Sugar. And its gonna really, really suck. Or so I think right now. Me and Sugar go way back, and we're tight as an abusive relationship could ever be. Chocolate, candy, Swedish Fish, ice cream, cookies, marshmallows, bread, chips, juice - I'm all over it and then some. About the only sugar I've kicked to the curb is soda. Otherwise, I'm a sugar addict. And I ... can I even say it? And I need to break up with ... (Deep breaths - you can do this Keith) I need to drastically reduce my sugar intake. There. I wrote it. And I think I really mean it this time.

No thanks to some of you out there being rock stars when it comes to good health, exercise and meeting some attainable fitness and nutrition goals (you know who you are), I think it's my time to kick this habit for good. I'm also indebted to a Reader's Digest article I read yesterday, which is refusing to let my conscience go back to my sugar-daddy.

The Quiz: Are you a Sugar Addict?
1.  If you reach for one cookie or chip, is the bag empty before you know it?
2. Can you skip dessert but empty the bread basket?
3. Can you control your food intake during meals but lose it when you start to snack, especially on chips and crackers?
4. When you want to lose weight, is it easier to skip meals altogether rather than just eat smaller ones?
5. Are you tired all the time? Are there things you'd love to do but just don't have the energy for?
6. Once you've had "just a taste" of bread, bagels, muffins, crackers, pasta, or rice, do you go back for a second (or third) helping?
7. Do you spend the day on a roller coaster of snacking highs and lows, hitting the doughnuts in the morning, the vending machine chips or candy in the afternoon, and the ice cream at night?
8. Do you eat healthy around other people but lose it when you're alone?

I answered YES to almost every question, with the exception being that I said NO on number 2--I can't skip dessert! I am apparently "highly susceptible to food addiction, period."

This week's challenge:  Eat no more than 24 grams (or 6 teaspoons) of added sugar in 24 hours. (One teaspoon = 4 grams. When you see sugar grams on the label, divide by 4 to get the teaspoons.)

I share this because a little public humiliation goes a long way. I see some of you from time to time too, so as a way to a) know if you're reading my blog and b) give you permission to give me a hard time for my own well-being, I decided to lay it all out there today.

And so, the goodbyes continue.



  

What I Know Now

What I know now is more than I did then, different from what you know, and not as much as I'd like to know going forward.

I am finally emerging from the wilderness experience that has been the last two years of my life. And man, I have learned a lot.

I know now that I cannot ignore my emotions. To say my emotional life as a rural pastor was like a roller coaster is an understatement (not to mention an over-used analogy and a tad too cliche.) It's been tornadic. It's been abyss-like. It's been dysfunction-ally repetitive. And above all, it's been exhausting. While I know now that I was borderline depressed for much of the last two years, I can honestly reflect on those dark days with appreciation.

My time as a rural pastor wasn't entirely depressing of course. There have been many, many moments of sunshine and joy. I've established some incredible relationships with people of all ages and backgrounds, most with histories much different from my own. I know now that these friendships were the life-blood of my call to ministry here, and without them I would have emotionally perished a long, long time ago. I am grateful for God bringing these beautiful but flawed people (which is the definition of all human beings) onto my path. I am hopeful and confident I accomplished good things in their lives as they have done the same for my own.

What I know now, as I prepare to depart this rural context is that I still have so much more to know. I have cluttered my health, emotional and otherwise, with so much immaterial waste that I am simply ashamed to realize how unhealthy I am as a citizen and human being. My laziness has caused me to become much more ignorant and overweight than I am comfortable with, and I know now that only I am able to change this woeful trajectory. I lost several levels of self-confidence during the course of this two year depressed state of mine and while I know now that I am headed back in the right direction, I still have a ways to go to being fully repaired and restored.

Spiritually, I know now I have been redeemed and will be continually redeemable. That's the theology I subscribe to, and while it may or may not be what is culturally acceptable, Jesus has everything to do with this redemption and re-awakening. And I know that he is every bit as worth following now as he was back then.

Which leads me to a post-election day reflection. What I know now is more than I knew then, different from what you know and not as much as I'd like to know going forward. In other words, when it comes to politics, I am terribly ignorant. My sense is that I am not alone. And while I skew democratic these days, I am disgusted and frustrated with Washington as a whole, no matter if you're blue or red. I did a few questionnaires and a minimal amount of research on the candidates I voted for yesterday. So, I did my civic "duty" but I am increasingly anxious about where we're headed as the human race of the United States. I know now that I am becoming more and more convinced that if Jesus were physically walking among us today, he would be neither democrat nor republican. I am convinced that most of us Americans are blind and in need of a new imagination and vision for what it means to live, work and interact alongside one another and creation in this "free" land we call home.

I don't know if any of this made sense, but if nothing else, it's an honest snapshot of my soul - a soul that is breathing anew these days and on the verge of even more significant change in 2015 and beyond. And what I know now is that despite the rising ambiguity, tension and decline that appear to be taking over our ways of being together as church and as a country, I am hopeful. Yes, I cling to the hope that we'll keep talking to each other, no matter how different our religious or political views, and strive to listen, understand and pursue what it means to love people as Jesus loved them and what loving our neighbor as ourselves is all about.

The Wedding Dancer

Some of you have experienced a wedding dance with yours truly. Things have a way of getting out of hand fast, especially if the DJ is brave (and smart) enough to play lots of Michael Jackson music. Well, those days are becoming more and more behind me now (I didn't say they're gone completely) but there is hope the legacy has been passed on.

Enter Natalie. Last Saturday night, at the reception of a wedding I presided at, there was a dance. And while Pastor Keith wasn't exactly feelin' it, his 3 year old daughter Natalie most certainly was. No one asked her to go out on the dance floor. She didn't take anyone with her. She just knew that this was where she needed to be. And so she wasted little time, took zero breaks, and just danced her little heart out. Sure there were times when it was just arms flailing and shoulders swaying, but she stayed out there, all by her lonesome often. When the inevitable creepy old guy tried to take her hand and give her a twirl, Natalie was quick to deny that request with a look that said, "I don't think so." When the crazy little boy her age swarmed her for the Tanzmanian Devil break dance moves, she side-stepped herself out of danger with ease. When the floor flooded with people eager to do the newest choreographed dance (it was Electric Slide in my days), she followed along, did her best to keep up. I knew well enough to let her be, knowing that she wasn't interested in sharing the dance floor with her Mom or Dad - thereby letting Mom take the walk of shame when the attempt was made...and promptly denied.

Yes, she even did a pretty good "Elaine" (Seinfeld fans - you know what I'm talkin' about) a few times. All in all, it was a proud #YouGoGirl moment for her Mom and Dad. But especially for her "I love to entertain the crowd" dancin' Daddy :)

Last (Days) Laugh

Do you ever have those moments when someone says something and you think of a really great response, but you know you could never say it because its, well... too mean?

One of the things that's been bothering me about the congregation I serve is that I get asked too few questions. I love being asked about what I think or about something from my life, etc, but people, young and old alike, around these parts are pretty tight-lipped. I can count on one hand how many times someone has asked me a personal question. I know I'm a bit more talkative and extroverted than most people around here who hail from Norwegian roots, and I get that, but I just wish people were more brave or insatiably curious to ask more questions or try to really stump me. After all, I like me and love to tell about my story as well as to come up with all sorts of explanations for the unexplained.

So you can about imagine my delight when I was sitting with a couple of old-timers the other day, when a lady (not a member of our congregation) asked me out of no where, "Pastor? Do you believe we're living in the last days?" I almost choked on the barbeque sandwich I was eating and seriously had to stifle my laughter.

Without hesitation I responded in all truthfulness, "No." I then went on to justify my position and put her heart at ease that no one knows the day or the hour when blah blah blah that the world will end. But what I wanted to say, but my brain intercepted and ruled against it before reaching my lips was: "Yes, Rose, I believe you are living in your last days."

I'm pleased to know that no matter how rusty I've gotten over the last few years, that I can still make myself laugh.

May you do something today as though it were your last. Life is too short not to find the funny, so bonus points for sharing with me that last great laugh you've either given or received.

Spiritual Boredom

I love to quote movies, and one of my favorites is Wayne's World. There is a line that goes something like this: "I once thought I had mono for an entire year...just turns out I was really bored." Well, it turns out that Wayne and I are not so different. As some may know (or if you read my post "Some Assembly Required" a few months ago), it has been a long winter in my neck of the woods, and not just because of the insane windchill. I have found myself submerged in what I could only describe as "a depression." I never thought I was fully depressed, but definitely down and not my usual optimistic and enthusiastic self. Turns out what I thought was sadness, bitterness and borderline despair was really just "spiritual boredom." Let me explain.

I love to read. Web surfing, Facebook and email have demanded a majority of my love of reading of late, but when I can pry myself away from the screen or the banal fantasy baseball "research," I will immerse myself in one of several books I bring home with me from the office week to week. I've been chewing on a few good ones since the beginning of the year, never really intending to read them cover to cover, but take in just enough to feed whatever part of me that was hungry. There was one book that I felt nudged to take home for quite a long time before I finally did: "The Wisdom of Stability - Rooting Faith in a Mobile Culture" by Jonathan Wilson-Hartgrove. Have you ever read something that truly nailed it for you? As in, you can't highlight or underline it fast enough because it resonated so profoundly with how you're feeling? Thank you Jonathan Wilson-Hartgrove, because your words half-way through this book did exactly this for my soul.

I could easily quote the entire book in this post. But I'm going to try not to do that. Instead, I feel I need to share that I am 100% with Jonathan on the importance of stability or "staying put and paying attention where you are", not only in a world which is becoming increasingly individualistic and void of community (how many of you reading this can name all the neighbors on your block?), but in the church where it is commonly known that ministers live and work as "transients." I have both heard and told others that we ministers are nomads - going everywhere but belonging nowhere. The last few decades pastors like me have been encouraged to move whenever and however often the Spirit says that it is time to go. The problem with this is that we all have the freedom of making ourselves ready, whenever and however often we choose, to pursue greener pastures. Granted sometimes opportunities and invitations come to us whether we feel we're ready or not, but in the mind of most newly ordained pastors like myself, the message is clear and simple: after three to five years in the first place you serve, have your bags packed and ready. Its a message that is simultaneously comforting and disturbing. Wilson-Hartgrove's Wisdom of Stability hits a nerve because of how counter-cultural and anti-first call the idea that "if we want to rise up into God's being, nothing is more important than rooting ourselves in a place where God can happen." And so, upon accepting this opportunity to serve a rural west-central congregation that is twenty minutes in every direction from the nearest gas station, I opened myself to the possibility of staying longer than five years. Gasp!

But its been incredibly difficult for me to wrap myself around this goal. I'm an outgoing, extroverted, adventure seeking, ideas man who desires to revolutionize everything I set my mind to...who can literally be snowed in and see no other human being outside of family for days on end. Where I'm going with this is simple: the concept of staying put in one place is both powerfully enticing and powerfully depressing, depending on the day. It was the latter for much of the last six months...until I read chapter five and realized that what I've been feeling is normal. I cannot share here how relieved I am. In the end, I haven't necessarily been depressed and needing a change in scenery or profession, but rather very much "spiritually bored" and in need of a change of perspective and reminder that "staying is itself a process, as growth is the product of struggle."

And so I'll leave you with an excerpt that was profoundly comforting as I achieved a level of solidarity on this issue I have not experienced since embarking on the task of staying put in this place nearly two years ago when I said "yes."

In a conversation about Jesus' instruction to welcome strangers, a Benedictine friend once confessed to me that the real challenge of hospitality is opening the door again and again to the brothers he lives with. "We Benedictines are supposed to welcome everyone as Christ," he said, "but sometimes when a brother comes through the door I mumble to myself, 'O Christ, it's you again." I laughed at the joke because I know too well how spiritual boredom can lead to a quiet disdain for the people I share life with. Little habits and phrases wear on my nerves as I ignore the needs of the people I have promised myself to in marriage, baptism, and community life. Washing their dishes makes me weary, and I avoid conversation. The thought of going on like this forever is overwhelming. Boredom tempts us to give up on the people God has given to us.

Can't give up now. Won't. I've put in too much to walk away because it's difficult. Spiritually bored or not, I trust that God is at work here and the call is for more patience and trust, and not to simply hit the eject button or to start planning my escape route. I plan to stay put and pay attention, nothing more, nothing less.

"Not only so, but we also rejoice in our sufferings, because we know that suffering produces perseverance; 4 perseverance, character; and character, hope. 5 And hope does not disappoint us, because God has poured out his love into our hearts by the Holy Spirit, whom he has given us." - Romans 5:3-5.

The Wisdom of Stability
25 Great Wayne's World Quotes

Mystery Dwelling

Two terribly mysterious and terribly tragic events in one week have my mind-wheels spinning on overdrive. One involving as massive search for a missing jetliner and another involving a small community in rural Minnesota. Both events have caused immense grief and broken hearts for the families and communities of victims. And both have more questions than answers, an incredible amount of mystery in world seemingly teeming with an abundance of explanations.

I've never been thrust into such wonder on both the macro and micro scale at the same time. Most days I am quite comfortable with mystery. There is something thrilling about the unknown. There is also a degree of freedom in a lack of knowledge, an exercise in letting go of having to know the how and why of everything that happens. We usually don't have much choice when the unknown occurs in our lives - a surprising diagnosis, a sudden turn of events, a modern day miracle - we only have the choice of how to respond. So, I can deal with that kind of mystery. I can let go of my need to control and force myself to stay in the moment and assess the 'what now' and the 'so what' rather than obsess over the how's and why's of life's unanswerable questions.

So it goes without saying that I am feeling beyond unsettled and uncomfortable with the mysterious this time around. I understand that a football field sized airplane is still hugely under-matched compared to the vastness of the earth's oceans. I understand that there are many ways to screw up a search and that without sufficient radar or operable transmitters, recovering this Malaysian 777 jetliner is difficult in every sense. But this kind of disappearance is something I'm only okay with when watching television or sitting in a darkened theater. Asking me to accept that in this day and age a flight full of human beings aboard one of the safest modes of transportation in the world can vanish and elude investigators for five days is such a tall order - one that I am incredibly uncomfortable and fearful with. To think that I or a family member could one day board a plane and in two hours time disappear is unfathomable. Disturbing. Maddening. Terrifying. There are no words to adequately describe what happened to Malaysian Airlines Flight 370 on March 8, 2014.

The next mystery hits much closer to home. While it is saddening and awful to think about what is a reality for the families of 239 missing and presumed-dead people on the other side of the world, it is even more devastating when the mystery hits in your own communal backyard. I don't know any of the persons aboard that airplane, nor any of their family members. But when I heard the news that a senior in high school died after fleeing a party in the early hours of a long-awaited spring evening in a neighboring rural town - time stood still in a completely different manner. My heart broke for more than Michael's family - but for an entire community from which he was known and loved. I had the privilege of living and serving in that community for one year while on my pastoral internship, so I know what kind of void a death like his leaves behind. I don't know that a place like that ever fully recovers. There are a few more details available here than there are overseas, but the questions are no less troubling. As much as we want to comfort one another amidst the aftermath of this enormous loss, there's just as much head-shaking and disappointment in the circumstances leading up to this very preventable death. But somehow, at least for right now, our judgment and finger-pointing must take a backseat to our prayers for peace and healing.

For me, dwelling in mystery is usually time well spent. Unfortunately, this is not one of those times.

Figure. It. Out.

Spring in My Snowshoe

When despair for the world grows in me
and I wake in the night at the least sound
in fear of what my life and my children's lives may be, I go and lie down where the wood drake
rests in beauty on the water, and the great heron feeds. I come into the peace of wild things
who do not tax their lives with forethought
or grief. I come into the presence of still water.
And I feel above me the day-blind stars
waiting with their light. For a time I rest
in the grace of the world, and am free.
~Wendell Berry~

Going back to last fall, my attitude and outlook has been mostly chilly to the touch. The last blog post said as much through my frustration with some non-helpful instructions for setting up my snowshoes. Reading between the lines and I'm sure it was evident I've been feeling down about my life circumstances. Well, that all started to change when a few things happened... 1) Fantasy Baseball season started, 2) My birthday 3) a pleasantly surprising congregational council meeting and 4) I set up my snowshoes and broke them in finally. It was a bitterly cold day last week (shocker) but, I was over all just thrilled to be OUT of the house for a change.

It wasn't a perfect maiden voyage, and there were definitely some equipment issues and operator errors to be tolerated...but I snowshoed! Epic. There was even time for a fire and hot-chocolate with my snowshoe companions. For just two hours something broke free within.

Each day we are closer to spring. Each day the sun seems to shine a little brighter. And each day I can feel my spirits lifting, my attitude and outlook warming, ever so slowly emerging from the polar vortex of both climate and soul.

I have been so indebted to the gift of music over the last few months. From adding old favorites (Motley Crue, Metallica, Guns N' Roses, Queen) to rock out to or brand new ones (Gungor, Inception soundtrack, Mumford and Sons), to chill with, it's so awesome how music can both name and inspire one's mood. (I started this post to Ted Nugent's "Stranglehold" which provided just the right mix of motivation to write with a simultaneous reminder that "I Rock.")

So its been a long cold winter, but every now and then life throws reminders that progress is possible, a fresh start is merely an attitude adjustment and help comes to those who ask for it. Grace and peace to you..and remember, we're already one week into Spring Training.

Don't let crappy instructions keep you down. Just Google or YouTube that sucker.

  

Some Assembly Required

Last year it was the snow and this year it's the cold. So, so brutally cold. Coldest winter I can remember enduring. I thought it might be snowy like last year, so I ordered some snowshoes to help fight cabin fever. I've had them a little over a month now and they're still in the box. I decided to take a look at them today even though I had no intention whatsoever of going out in the -40 degree weather or whatever the heck it is these days. I was discouraged almost immediately because I quickly learned that there was some assembly required. Ugh. Do they realize that their "manual" makes zero sense to someone who has NEVER snow-shoed before? I don't know what to do with this:

The diagram looks nothing like the random assortment of straps with buckles that came with the snowshoes. I HATE when this happens. Just include a picture of how its supposed to look and let me work backward from that, like putting together a puzzle. So, now even if the weather permits me to blaze a trail, I'll only be able to stare blankly at this crappy little half sheet of paper with "instructions" of how to assemble my snowshoes. Where's the love for visual learners?


This little episode makes me think about the nature of my work in the church lately. So often it feels like God gave me a passion for blazing a trail in ministry and then sent me a pair or un-assembled snowshoes. What the heck am I supposed to do with this? I keep fumbling and bumbling my way around this place, letting my feelings and failures dictate and detour my leadership here, causing more feelings of hopelessness, frustration and resentment. It's been a vicious spiral for 18 months. All I wanted to do was snowshoe! I wanted to get out in the open air, marvel at God's good creation, and take in some adventures along the way. Maybe I'd even inspire a few others to join me, leading them around to some cool places and growing together in our love of snowshoeing. So, I guess I'll just have to keep making it up as I go. I'm not too proud to ask for help, and I appreciate learning something new, even if it is attaching straps to snowshoes, but I'm tired of the run-around, the red-tape, the BS that seems to so often block from doing that which I feel I've been nudged to do for over 15 years.


Ain't nothing fun about attempting to re-route a dysfunctional way of thought (personally) or culture (this congregation). Most days I don't have the slightest clue where to begin. I've been choosing my projects carefully and praying that there is something useful being accomplished through my preaching, teaching and care amidst a people I love but don't understand.


It seems the cold has infected my brain and attitude, leaving me focused on broken snowshoes indoors, praying I'll warm up and get back to doing what I've been designed to do.

     

21 Big Ideas

I recently attended a conference called “Christianity21” in Denver, Colorado. Christians and non-Christians alike were invited to come and speak about their BIG IDEA for the future of the Christian church in the 21^st century. The format was simple yet innovative: 21 people with 21 different ideas for 21 minutes each. There were also other presentations given by dozens of others attending the conference. These brave souls were asked to prepare their BIG IDEA in 21 slides for exactly 7 minutes of speaking. All in all, we heard 35 different people talk in 48 hours  - it was a fantastic event! Here are 21 ideas or insights I came home with that made an impact on me (in no particular order):

1. May we know what we’ve always suspected, that the God who created us is better than the God we created. (Jonathan Merritt)
2. I want to take God’s love personally. I tell you my story to honor your own. (Paul Raushenbush)
3. At the heart of God’s revelation, the margins are at the center of God’s concern. Why are the margins still at the margins of the church? (Noel Castellanos)
4. Faith is a team sport, not an individual competition. (Nadia Bolz-Weber)
5. As culture and science shift so too must religion. We need to make new narratives known! (Ron Martoia)
6. Let’s give up on the afterlife for awhile, accepting that death is the dark door of mystery and focus more on this life. (Kent Dobson)
7. Authority comes from existential, experiential, vulnerable and honest growth. That’s it. (Kent Dobson)
8. What if we ritualized words about hunger and being filled, or abundance and care instead of betrayal and brokenness before we shared Holy Communion? (ErikaMarksbury)
9. People want to be loved and belong – it’s our job to remind them. (Mike Foster)
10. Be ‘sanctified shot-callers’ by building up your street cred by what we do on the street. (Romal Tune)
11. Think big. Start small. Keep moving. (Charles Lee)
12. Culture trumps strategy & vision. Hiring someone innovative doesn’t change the culture. (Charles Lee)
13. Every 500 years there is a great emergence. (Phyllis Tickle)
14. Maybe we’ve finally arrived at the place and time when we’re ready to hear anew what the Spirit is up to and move the story further. (Phyllis Tickle)
15. Hope is a radical act of faith and courage, it is not weak. And it only comes after despair. (Sarah Bessey)
16. The face of Christianity isn’t changing, its already changed. (Enuma Okoro)
17. Live in your context both physical and digital because you are good news. Digital isn’t the opposite of real but the opposite of physical. (Jim Kast-Keat)
18. Why don’t we believe God is equipping us once we are breathed into existence and not just when we are called? God is not calling us to “do missions” but to be the church. (Jamie Wright)
19. What happened to God? We don’t know what we mean by God anymore. (Kent Dobson)
20. The best way to be innovative is to get out of your normal connections. Foster experiences from different scenes outside of your field – eventually things will start connecting. (Charles Lee)
21. The (political) middle does not always indicate an absence of conviction. Fierce conviction can lead to the middle. The middle is where peacemakers seek to hold hands with those on the right and on the left. (Sarah Cunningham)