Letters to My Sons: I don't ever want to tame you

Dear sons,

This morning while we were out on a walk with some friends, you both contentedly riding in the stroller -pacified by one of those devilish-to-the-earth-mama-in-me sweeter-than-sweet-tea donuts - when a random stranger stopped by to oo and ahh at you and tell me how precious you were, how much like twins you looked, and how full my hands must be.  So close together! And TWO BOYS too! First times for all of those [were not today]. "You know, I never had to spank until I had my son... girls are so well-behaved and social and sweet, and boys... well boys never stop moving and are into everything.  You'll be in my prayers tonight." she said.

She's never met any sister that you might have - but you come legitimately from a mama who is rarely well-behaved, and while, sweet, never stops moving and is into everything.  And I'd reckon any daughter that I might have might inherit some of those genes.  Mild eye roll here.

Regardless, I thanked her for her prayers, and we moved on.

But as you both [finally] fell asleep for nap today, and I breathed a little sigh of relief, this is what I wanted to tell you:

I don't ever want to tame you.

I love that you are into everything and never stop moving.  I love your curiosity and your chatter and your enthusiasm and energy.  I love that you don't care if you get dirty, that you see puddles and your first thought is not staying dry but making the biggest splash that you can.  I love that you have so many thoughts and so much joy that you sometimes quite literally keep yourself awake retelling your day and singing every song that you know.  Loudly.  I joke that you only have two volumes - loud and extra loud - but I love your unbridled, unhindered enthusiasm that needs to shout "DAAAADDDDY, MOMMY MADE BEANS FOR DINNER!"  The whole neighborhood is invited in to your delight.  Also for dinner.  [Slightly better than "DAAAADDDDDY, MOMMY POOPED ON THE POTTY!"]

I love that you, S, see me cooking and want to pull every single pan and pot out of the cupboard so that you can cook too, and that you loudly proclaim your menu to me as you "cook" it.  I love your enthusiasm about everything - your curiosity to explore your world and figure out how things work -and how deeply you delight to do it and then retell it to anyone who will listen.   You are all in, 100% in whatever you do, and I love that about you.

I love that you, E, see the world as your oyster - that you fearlessly launch yourself off of slides, shelves, chairs, and beds, without worry that you will be caught, even though my heart stops almost every time.  You will be the child who takes us to the emergency room first.  But I love how safe you feel, that you are not afraid to launch yourself into anything new.

I love that you both explore the world in your own ways, on all four cylinders.  Neither one of you holds back - and it is exhausting, nerve-wracking and delightful to see.  Full-steam ahead, bloody occasionally, running-never-walking, all-hands-on-deck, exhausted by bedtime, from dawn until dusk.

This is certainly not just a boy thing, although stereotypes do render it the conversation more often than not.  Lord willing, if you have a sister, I hope she's fully herself, whatever that looks like, with reckless abandon too.  Somehow my eardrums, nerves, and heart will survive, I am certain.

Baby boys, your Daddy and I will do our best to teach you manners, kindness, gentleness, and compassion - to raise you to be good men who recognize and appreciate context and balance.  We will endeavor to raise you with good discipline and respect.  That's why we do discipline you, with consistency and firmness.  Hitting your brother is still not okay - wrestling is fine as long as you're both game.  We've been over this.  But it is not our goal to "tame you," quiet you, or curb your enthusiasm, even as we do ask you to be obedient and respectful.

See, your enthusiasm, your energy, your curiosity - the way that you are both hardwired - it is a good gift.  And channeled appropriately, with respect and compassion, that enthusiasm and energy will be your greatest asset.  That fearlessness and confidence, E, will propel you forward into places that others dare not go - boldly and bravely - your empathy, which I also see in you, will drive you there for the sake of others.  Your curiosity and intellect, S, will motivate you and drive you learn and understand how and why things work - and your enthusiasm and delight in proclamation will invite others to have the same delight in discovery that you do.

So while I appreciate the well-meaning prayers and encouragement of strangers - please do not mistake my politeness to them as agreement with their sympathy for me in your energy.  Please hear me, loud and clear -

I love your into-everything-ness.  Your energy.  Your enthusiasm.  And even your wildness.  I would not change it.  I am grateful for it.  And I want to bless it - I do bless it - to thrive and grow in appropriate context and application.  And when my natural tendencies and desire for order might influence me otherwise, remind me that I said this earlier, because I do mean it, from the heart.

I love you so deeply, little ones.  And I am so so proud to be the mommy to two such wonderful boys.

Love,
Your crazy mama

KD

On Juxtaposition and Difficult Balance

As a parent of young children, I personally hate the fourth of July.  I am fairly confident that most dog owners and fellow parents of young children can resonate with me on that one.

But that aside, yesterday, I found myself incredibly torn - between my own cynicism and jadedness and my genuine gratitude for my country and the freedoms that I am privy to - between my thankfulness for the men and women, including many of my family members, who have served faithfully in our armed forces to protect liberty and justice for all, and my deep heart conviction that we are not all there yet, that liberty and justice and equality are not secured for all, and even presently we are seeing more clearly the schisms in our justice system broadly, down to our own neighborhoods and attitudes more specifically.  This lyric/poem/rambling was born out of that wrestling.

On Juxtaposition and Difficult Balance

Marines with PTSD
Being honored for their bravery amidst fireworks, reminiscent of grenades and bombs;
Country that I love,
Brokenness that I see.

My fathers and grandfathers, friends and family, yours too -
Fought and fight for her safety, liberty, justice, equality.
Lives on the line, knowing the split-second, gut-level, life-or-death calls made day after day.
Bravery, dignity, honor, integrity, sacrifice.
I honor you.

My brothers and my sisters
Cry, peace without justice is empty, equality is rhetoric when its not sustained by action.
We're not even safe in our churches.  You think this is surprising - uncover your eyes, don't be blind.
This is our inheritance, generation following generation.  My brothers and sisters,
I honor you.

Country that I call home,
Liberties that are mine, with pride, thankfulness, and knowledge of their cost
I love what you stand for - I love the values that you espouse (and long to).
Contrary to what my critiques often portray,
I am proud to be an American,
Proud of my Southern heritage, bless her heart,
Proud of my Northern home, strong one that she is,
Land that I call my home, full of pride, culture, heritage, inheritance, freedom, blessing.
I honor you.

But culture that allows us to mask and ignore, as "that's just the way it is" "has always been"-
Inheritance that is both beautiful and covered in the blood of our brothers and sisters.
Pride that gives us a false sense of superiority.
Pride that minimizes and ignores the cries of our tired, our poor, our huddled masses.
Freedom misapplied; blessing denied -
Lady liberty is not blind, though we might prefer her thus.
Justice is not blind, though we still claim that she is.
America, I love you too much to bless your blindness.
I cannot excuse you simply because I love you.
I cannot ignore the cries of our tired, our poor, those longing to be free - you also,
I honor you.

Church that I love,
Body, I belong to you.  And you belong to me.
Together we serve the same God, claim the same grace, break the same bread.
I vow again and again, I belong with you.
This God we serve, He is real.  Unmistakably, irreplaceable.
And though I've tried mightily, I cannot run from Him.
In Him is life, hope, and a worldview that I can get behind.  There is no other.
And married to Him, you and I, bound together.
I honor you.

But sometimes your words are spoken hastily, without compassion.
Sometimes you don't speak, when you should.
Condemning, rather than freeing.
Silencing, rather than speaking.
Inconsistently applying.
Grace misunderstood.
Self-imaging, self-identifying, self-serving more than mirroring.
You, we, I, do not reflect Him.
Too busy with who is out, rather than who is welcomed in.
You who have been abandoned, broken, cast out, unheard, by this body -
I honor you.

This Body, broken.  For you (singular).
Rather that His body, broken for you (inclusive).
Yet married to Him, you and I, together bound.
I honor you.  I fight for you.  I fight against you.

A balance unable to be struck evenly,
A scale unable to be weighted.
And yet both must be carried in awkward accord.
I honor you.  I fight against you.  I fight for you.

Land that I love.

This is nothing new.

on ministry, 5 years in, 3 years out...

So here's the skinny: I worked in a campus ministry for 5 years, and have now been out of ministry for 3 years.  I've made it past my year of post-ministry almost burn-out and recovery therein - and several faith "transitions" (really I mean mini-crises, deep valleys and a few mountain tops, but we'll call them transitions and growth moments).  I'm no longer in a place where I think the para-church that I worked with is the greatest - or the worst - ever, my moments of anger and frustration have faded, and I feel like I finally have a little bit of perspective, a deeper sense of faith and theology that isn't reliant on the organization that I belong to, and a healthy bit of appreciation for that season in my life, all inclusive.

I'm not planning on critiquing any particular para-church, ministry or organization.  Perspective and time have taught me that they're all flawed in some way, shape, or form.  That most genuinely strive to honor God and love others.  Each has blind spots.  And they each offer tremendous gifts to the Church, capital C, especially if they can figure out how to honor and bless one another well, and avoid territorial battles.  While certainly there are things I could critique, that is not my intention here.

What I do want to do, however, is ponder for a few minutes, what I've learned in these past 8 years - what wisdom I would pass on to 22 year-old me, doe-eyed and hopeful, or anyone entering into a ministry capacity - or what I wish my friends, donors and supporters had known or said to me - and even, what I wish I had known before 27, on a burned-out trajectory and wisely making the decision to leave ministry before I lost my faith or burned out entirely.

I think these are the things I would share:

1) Take rest and do it often.  Please put that as a budget line item.  Put it on the calendar at the beginning of the year, and prepare in advance for it, and when you do take it, leave all work behind.  Yes, your work is relational, but a burned-out, boundary-less minister is of no benefit to those under your care. Donors and constituents, please support staff/pastors in doing this.  Bless us in doing this.  A well-rested minster is actually far more effective than one that is burning the candle on both ends.  Vacation - a real vacation - is every bit as needed for us as it is for you.  Please know that campus ministers rarely take it - and because of #3 and #2, often feel guilty in taking it.  We need you to tell us that we need to rest.  And we need your help making it happen.

2) Please know that for every joyful, delighted story that we share, there are also hard ones that we can't or don't share, but that we carry deeply and heavily in our hearts.  We are in this role because we care deeply about others - and most of the time are good listeners and empathetic - but that makes our failures feel very different than a sloppy presentation or a missed deadline.  They are relational by nature, and wounds to our hearts, the marks of people hurt that we genuinely care about.  Burnout often times stems from too many years of too many wounds unhealed, and too much guilt or bitterness or cynicism of what we coulda shoulda woulda.  Ministers - we need to find healthy ways of healing and releasing those burdens - #1 helps - good mutual friends are also a necessity.  Supporters - please know that while we are really good at listening and caring, we also need people to care for us - we desperately need mutual friendships.  Help be those people for us.

3) Staff*, you are worth the income that you make.  We need to get rid of the myth that you must be impoverished and barely making ends meet in order to be "faithful" to the calling that you have received.  This is a lie.  Flat out.  Be wise with your finances, absolutely - to the degree that transparency is not a problem, certainly.  But you carry enough weight and guilt over everything else - this should not be one additional burden.  You do not make enough to feel guilty about it, and your supervisors are wise in discerning healthy, manageable salaries for you.  Trust them.  Even in places in Scripture where it talks about "taking nothing" - "no sandals, no bag" - it talks about ministers receiving from the generosity of those they minister to.  Their ability to go forth without spoke more to their trust in the generosity of those they would serve than to their own lack of needs.  They were able to be unencumbered by possessions because they trusted highly in the care of others.  Donors, blow our minds with your generosity (the vast most of you do!), not your stinginess or comparisons of how much you think we should make.  And staff, let go of the myth.  Do your work well, but don't feel guilty for then (wisely) spending your paycheck.

4) Leaving ministry is actually really hard - especially if you felt a strong calling to enter into it, and are not moving into another ministry capacity.   It can (not always, but often) feel like failure, like walking away from something that really matters to you, that you were "called to."  Or, if it's delayed until a burnout point, or ones own faith is too intrinsically tied to how one ministers to others, it can quickly spiral into not only a loss of faith but also a loss of identity.  Or a form of nihilism.  After-care matters.  If you have supported us in ministry, please care well for us as we leave it.  Remind us of God, his care for the people we care for, of self-care and who we actually are, and give us space to be in process.  Bless us to follow God in the same ways you do.  And sometimes, teach us how to do that, not as our occupation.  Forgive us when we are disenchanted, critical, nostalgic, or bitter.  Please continue to walk with us into what God calls us to next.  And this is yet another reason that #5 is of utmost importance.

5) Being in ministry is often times more about what God is doing in you than what He is doing in others.   Allow yourself to be in process, to be mentored, and to grow and change.  Celebrate God's work in you.  Be attentive to your own soul in the process.  And please, oh please, have a mentor or two who does not work in the same organization as you do, who can wisely shepherd you and help you walk through the transitions of life, without it relating to your work whatsoever.  Make space for that.  It's so very easy to begin to process your own faith, your own journey, your own story, in light of what you can pass on to others.  But your process, as it relates to you alone, matters.  The practice of intimate, sacred silences - lessons from God that are just for you, not to teach from - matters.   It matters for you and me, and it matters for those under our care, that we don't just assume that what we are learning is also God's lesson for them.  Practice discernment and the wisdom of "treasuring things in your heart" as well as teaching from what you have experienced and know true.

6) No matter what ministry you are involved in, there are blind spots, weaknesses, and interpretations that are taken as fact when they're not.  When you find yourself towing the party-line too heavily, or getting defensive, or feeling like you are constantly against whatever, look for perspective again.  Return to Scripture.  Ask for perspectives from people who think differently.  Engage.  Be willing to say a gentle (or strong) no.  Or to fight the same battle over again over again.  And be willing to repent or admit that you were wrong.  In ministry as well as in any other part of life, diversity of opinion and thought is important.  Pay attention to the ways that God made you - and bring the strengths that you have, whether or not they always fit the modus operandi.

7) People are always unique, beautiful, divinely made, delighted in individuals, not projects, numbers, or goals.  Keep that in perspective.  It's not a bad thing to have hope for them, but it's far too easy to put them into boxes, plans, and 3-5-7-10 step programs.   Listen with a prayerful heart, not your plans.  Students, I am so deeply sorry for the times in which I did not do this well.  This has been the longest place of grief for me, and also the deepest place of celebration.

8) Pray more.  Talk less.  Actually do that, don't just verbally affirm it.

9) Staff do way more than they say - and are vastly more experienced in a lot more fields than their job titles reflect.  And it's far more than just (even though it is always all) spiritual work.  Honor that.  Know that. Believe that.  Help us to translate that, especially as (or if) we move into a secular space.  And in that vein - perhaps as an aside - in small talk at parties, could we lose the question "Ohhh campus minister, that's interesting.  So what do you do?" I get it - really I do.  But the truth is - we do everything from event planning and marketing to counseling to website design, to financial services and scholarships, to suicide prevention and crisis counseling and back again, and answering that question is like pulling teeth at times.  Far better, at least for me, was "What's your favorite part of what you do?" Or "What are you working on this week?"

10)  Sometimes there is an invitation for you to press in - and even though there is resistance, you are failing or succeeding, the fruit is or is not there, the faithful action is to press in.  Sometimes the invitation is to step aside - and even though there is resistance, you are failing or succeeding, the fruit is or is not there, the faithful action is to step aside.  Neither fruit...nor it's lacking... nor success, or it's lack are automatically signals one way or the other.  Practice discernment as a way of life, for yourself, as well as the ministry in which you serve.  Without fear or constant second guessing.  Pay Do not be afraid of resistance, weariness, failure, dreams or desires - but also pay attention to them.  The God who made you made all of you.   Ask Him (not daily - that makes it hard to be fully present) but regularly, "what are you doing here in me?" "is this where you want me?" Be willing to let God direct your paths, first and foremost, not your own need to succeed, your pride, your "calling," your peers, your gifting, or public opinion.  Pay attention if you find yourself saying too often "I can't" or "I have to" or "That [part of me] doesn't matter." Those are dangerous words to believe carte-blanche as truth.

In all things, seek wisdom, with discernment, in the company of trustworthy friends.

xo,
KD

* "staff" here and after is used interchangeably with "minister" or "campus minister" etc.  In the organization I worked for, we used the term "staff" for the job title.