Results--Tales of a Mom in Ministry

I've now been a mommy for 10 months!  As a dancer and yoga enthusiast I was anxious to get back to working out.  Life as a mom, and certainly three months in as a working mom, left much less time for this than I originally anticipated.  And quite honestly, I wasn’t entirely motivated to work out at all.  

My first few months back to work feel a blur. BUT…I do know that from time to time I would race to the gym for thirty minutes before time to pick my daughter up from school. I found myself incredibly frustrated that so many of my post pregnancy comrades seemed to be shedding their baby weight so quickly….while I stayed in the exact same place.  It drove me crazy I that was not seeing results. 

Since April I’ve been going to spin classes twice a week.  And a month ago I added a Weight Training class…nothing crazy….it’s jazzercise with weights, to be honest.  Every week I step on the scale and there I sit….coasting at the exact same number I saw on the scale 6 weeks postpartum.  Seriously?  For a dancer and performer minded human this could not be more frustrating.  I don’t eat terribly and I drink a gallon of water daily.  I have all the ingredients for success.  What gives?  

Who knows….but I stopped trying to figure it out and started praying that God would help me to be confident and happy where I am.  Now….I’ve been praying for this mindset shift for a few months now…and I’ve gotten really good at pretending I’m cool with it all…but the other night a game changer occurred. 

I tend to pray a lot while I work out….pray that I actually make it out alive, haha…but mostly, it’s a great tool to quiet my mind.  Working out has always been a way for me to find Sabbath and rest…even in the midst of exerting energy. Two days ago I got to spin class a bit early…as I slowly pedaled I took a deep breath and all of a sudden I thought, “I really feel great. Genuinely great.”  Not just physically, but emotionally.  It’s been 10 months since I felt anywhere close to my old self.  I’ve felt glimpses of it here and there…but  in that moment I truly felt my spirit lift. As I started to pedal faster and faster I could feel that workout adrenaline beginning to climb.  I felt God’s presence and I thought, “you don’t do this for results.  You do this to be faithful.”  I said it again in my head.  “You don’t do this for results. You do this to be faithful.”  

My eyes began to tear a little and a I began to smile.  I pedaled faster and stronger for the rest of class than I ever have.  

I don’t work out to loose baby weight.  I work out to be strong, healthy, to quiet my mind, to gain energy to give to my family and my life.  I work out to be faithful to the body I have been given.  This phrase hit me as hard as it did because honestly the same can be said for so many things.  I am not Evelyn Mae’s mom because I expect results….yes, it’s a byproduct at times…but through out her life I will not always see positive results…I’ll continue to love her and be there, however, because I am faithful.  Marriage isn’t always filled with those fluttery butterflies but I am Jeff’s wife always because I am faithful.  And I didn’t walk in to ministry because I expected to see results.  I walked in to ministry because God asked me to and I am faithful.  This may be the biggest, hugest realization for me.  Perhaps a 'no brainer' to everyone else in ministry….but I am learning that being faithful doesn’t always produce a positive outcome.

Much like my frustration on the scale, recently I experienced a situation where I was rejected in ministry.  The kind of rejection where even after you sit back and look at all your ingredients you still go, “How did this happen?”  I think I always thought you could see a successful ministry by your results and I’m learning that some times you have to remind yourself that we’re in ministry because we’re being faithful to God…not for any tangible results we may see. 

The question has been asked, “Will you continue in ministry?”  

The answer is simply, “DUH.” ;-)

I felt The Holy Spirit ask me to journey in to ministry when I was 16 and I began working in full time ministry when I was 22….because I am rejected once does not mean I run….anywhere.  Especially when I feel confident in my heart that I was being faithful to God.   And just because I don’t see the number I used to on the scale doesn’t mean my working out is in vain.  Great is thy Faithfulness, Oh God.  I will keep going to the gym.  And I will keep serving God. Why?  Because, God’s hold on my life is greater than a scale and it’s certainly greater than the rejection of a few.  

It Takes A Village...

9 weeks ago Jeff and I gave birth to our first child, Evelyn Mae.  We call her “Evie Mae” for short.  She is a delight.  She’s patient, observant and a bit of a mama's girl…with each big smile and attempt to make small noises I can tell the moment she’s able she’ll be running full speed ahead.  Every time she develops a new “motor skill” I jokingly say, “do you think you’re already off to college?”  Man, being a parent is the best.  But…there are days…there are moments…that are hard.  For all you parents out there I don’t have to embellish on this statement.  The tiredness that comes with a newborn is to the bones...and although each moment is beyond words worth it…you some times need a breather.  I have to ask for help.  I’m still not so great at this.  But the simplest things seem impossible without an extra set of hands… I say this at 9 weeks and I know come 2 years I’ll have way more to say…if we add another kiddo in to the mix I’m sure I’ll have more on top of that…but at 9 weeks, this is what I know and I can say…parents are superheroes…and a side kick and then some sure makes a difference. (I'm so glad for my "sidekick and then some.")

At 6 weeks we made our way to church for the first time. We had a bunch of family in town and so we decided to go to my brother-in-law’s Preview Service for his church plant, The Village UMC.  At the end of the service we were all given $5 and challenged to take our money and multiply it in some way to benefit our community.  The only catch was…the money could not come back to the church.  Anyone who knows me knows I love a good challenge…I like to do things big.  We were asked to spend the first while in prayer, then come up with a plan for the money, execute our mission and come back in a month with our stories.  We did a similar project at Brentwood UMC when I worked there and, at the time, my project prompted travels to Sierra Leone, West Africa marking a life changing chapter in my world.  I was PUMPED to pray and see what God would reveal this time.  I prayed.  I fell asleep while praying.  I prayed some more.  I prayed for sleep…oh, wait…I’m praying about a project.  What to do with this money?  It needed to be something GOOD!  Something BIG!  

We came up with a project to raise money for 10 Winter Sleeping Bags and 10 Tarps for the unhoused community for Open Table Nashville.  Jeff and I are both huge advocates for the work this non profit does and we were excited to watch our money grow.  We would need $700.  So far we’ve raised $200.  One would think THAT IS AWESOME! WOW…$200 from $5, what a gift.  And, I have been excited, but in the back of my mind I’ve been thinking…but it needs to be more…it needs to be bigger.  

About a week ago I was at my friends house and I was talking to her mom about this project and other mission projects I had undertaken in the past…I told her I just wasn't quite sure when God would lead me to my next big thing….she laughed and she said, “Regina…you’ve said all of this to me while you are bouncing and calming your very biggest thing.”  Oh….my daughter, you mean???  Oh geez, I’m short sighted…back to praying I go…”God, help me see the big picture.”

On my way home today I stopped by Starbucks to see our Uncle T and he asked about our project.  He started talking about all of the other projects folks were doing and *wam*, there was my short sightedness again smacking me in the face.  You see…my $5 was not the only $5 given out on that day…and my $200 is not the only money raised.  This isn’t a Girl Scout Cookie Sales Competition… it’s not about the amount…it’s about the trust we put in God to do big things with our one small part.   I’m one small piece of God’s puzzle and together with OTHERS great work will be done.  

It brought me back to my struggles as I have begun to enter motherhood.  I have a hard time when what I do isn’t the biggest or the grandest of adventures…I have a hard time when my house isn’t Pinterest perfect and the meals aren’t always homemade and I can’t clean that bathroom, fold that laundry, bounce my baby and empower the orphan in Africa too.  It’s only been 9 weeks…can anyone tell I majored in Theatre in college?...thank goodness God loves me :-)  

But seriously, I need to come clean that this is what God is doing in my heart right now.  God is showing me that much of what I think matters…doesn’t.  I preach it...but it's time to live in to it a bit more.  The biggest isn’t always the grandest…most of the time the biggest thing we can do may seem to be the smallest.  It’s the 9 pound baby I hold as I type that I get to watch grow in to a beautiful woman of God. She doesn’t care about all the big things…she just wants to be covered in love.  

And $5 turning in to $200 is enormous and just because it doesn’t manifest in launching a non profit doesn't mean I’ve missed the mark.  Because…it isn’t just about me, my gifts and my efforts…there are others around me ready to lend a hand, ready to bounce a baby, ready to multiply their $5, add it in with mine and we will love up a community together.  Nothing is ever fun or fruitful alone….it definitely takes…a village.  

Dear God,  Help me to know when I need to ask for help.  Help me to trust the journey you have me on.  I need naught worry about creating the biggest or the best because you have already done that.  Help me to gather those around me to celebrate the giftedness of community.  Lord, you say where two or more are gathered there worship will be...I am not a singular unit...forgive me of my short sightedness as I strive to love better each day. Amen. 

Teach me to Forgive

In recent months I have been learning a lot about being a better friend.  Not that I think I was an awful friend before necessarily, but I have come upon circumstances where I have been challenged to love better.  

Forgiveness is one of the hardest things to learn.  Although, from a young age one of the first things we learn how to do is say, “I’m sorry.”  Somehow, as we get older these simple words become harder and harder to utter.  Not only is it hard to say, but it’s hard to accept. 

But, as Christians, we believe that forgiveness and grace are available to us always.  Grace, meaning the unmerited favor of God…we didn’t have to do anything to get this love and forgiveness.  Christians believe we are to strive to show this same grace and forgiveness in our own relationships. 

I’ve gotten the being willing to say, ‘I’m sorry’, thing down (obviously, I still mess up from time to time)…but the forgiveness…well, I kinda suck at this.  I’m certainly not near as good at it as I need to be.

I went to a music concert the other night and like a series of events that only God can orchestrate they sang a few songs through out the night that knocked me down a bit. 

Mostly based off of scripture, one song went, “Time is a thing we can’t recreate…can’t bottle it up for a later date…teach me to number my fleeting days.”  What are you spending your days doing, Regina?  Judging people and their choices, refusing to forgive a friend?  Who do I think I am sometimes?  Hmm…learning to number the beautiful days given to me.  I need to soften my heart. 

The next song really drove it home, “ True love has no defense, it cannot stay at an arms length or sit on the fence.  It knows it’s closest friends will betray and it stands by them faithfully anyway…Love is patient, it holds on tight, holds on tight when the train derails…love will never give up.”   “It’s not keeping track of who’s winning, who’s lost or who's scored…true love is kind.”  Woah...I need to forgive better. 

My eyes were covered in tears.  Even when we’re wronged by a friend…it is our job to find forgiveness…and because we love them, we have to strap on that seat belt and go for the bumpy ride…friendship is not a scoreboard.  I’m not sure why I understand that for my marriage but the friendship part doesn’t always check in.  

I want to be a better friend.  I want to forgive more.  Love more.  Judge Less.  Put down my scoreboard.  Get off the fence and stand faithfully rooted in an understanding of true grace.  

Gates of Charity Close?

When the Church stops being the Church.

I watched a video on Tent City, an un-housed community here in Nashville, a few months back.  A pastor spoke out about allowing the members of this community to remain within his community, although temporary, stating “at some point the gates of charity have to close.”  Hearing this and even thinking about it makes me sick.  It’s statements like this that bastardize the church and create a bad taste in the mouths of many towards Christianity. 

Unconditional love we preach.  As a Methodist Open hearts, open minds, open doors….we exclaim.  But we for sure draw a line.  All churches do, really. 

We’re all guilty of it, myself included.  I could go off on the fact that we should be following Jesus...a  man who called us to get our hands dirty, follow unconditional love, stop being so narcissistic and focussing on our own four walls and our own programming development…but for today I’m going to vent about a specific situation where the gates of charity close and we start to operate as a business as opposed to a community of faith.

My mother began working for the Methodist Church when she was fourteen…probably even sooner…but that’s the earliest I remember her talking about having a job.  She became her small churches choir director in the country of Charleston, SC.  She got her degree in Music Education and Vocal Performance and continued working for larger churches, developing their choral programs. Not only was she a member of Charleston Opera Company, a soloist performer all over town, she worked at different churches around Charleston during her early career. As time went on she and my father traveled across the globe as a military family.  Each church my mom began attending she quickly stepped in to the role of Director of Music and Christian Education.  She built music programs in churches from the ground up on Guam, in Italy, Panama, California to name a few.  She was a rock star.  Musicals, Cantatas, Symphonies, Volunteer Trainings, Sunday School Curriculums…you name it I grew up watching my mom do it.  To say that who I am and the desires of my heart to use my love of dance and music in the church world were shaped by my mom would be an understatement.  Through out most of my childhood she showed me how it was done. 

On August 2 my mother will have been sick in the hospital for exactly a month.  We’re honestly not sure what is wrong.  She’s gotten better in many regards, but something is still neurologically off.  I’ve learned through various experiences that when we find ourselves in prolonged illnesses that while we sit in a hospital bed, unfortunately the world does turn on.  Days go by, experiences happen…life keeps going.  It’s harsh, but real.

My father got a call today stating that the church my mother has worked for the past 14 years has decided after one month that they will be rehiring someone in her place.  Now, there are lots of logical reasons behind this decision.  A Church is, afterall, a business at the end of the day.  Programs continue and need developing.  Children still need Sunday School Teachers to be trained….but it raises my eyebrow and makes me wonder…

After 14 years, more hours worked above and beyond what my mother’s paycheck was and the call of duty, many overworked weeks and weekends later, many job responsibilities well outside her job description later…she is left unemployed.  Now, I understand the rationale behind the decision and I know the United States is so great and has lots of resources to help in situations like this…that is not the point at all…the point is…what is the church?  What is it supposed to be?  I’m not going to answer the question…I’m only going to say…I think at some point some people think the gates of charity close and I think those people give the church a terrible name.  That’s a name I wont ever be a part of. 

And the Wind Died Down

So, I lost favorite child status today.  You laugh, but in a family with four children there is always the running joke of who the favorite child is at that moment. 

It reminds me of a little plaque I bought my mom for Christmas one year.  It was this wooden red apple that read “Please be Patient and take a number” with four numbers attached to its stem.  I wrote a little card alongside it telling my mom this might help her quiet us down when we all spoke over one another.

Any multi-sibling household is constantly full of noise, arguments, competition, jokes and mayhem and chaos. :-) 

As I sit in the hospital with my mama it’s made me think a lot about my childhood.  Nostalgia goes hand in hand with taking care of loved ones.  I’ve thought about when you scrape your knee and your mom cleans the wound.  Of when you and your older brother get in to a fight over the remote and she sends you to your room.  Of when your little brother gets caught doing Power Ranger Karate on you and strangling you in the living room…..errr…umm…was this only my family? 

It’s made me think about how life is a journey.  A journey we don’t get to stop.  We’re constantly walking whether we like it or not.  No amount of hoping for a moment to breath will change the fact that life keeps turning, years keep going by…and it’s our job what we do with those moments, how we take care of ourselves and who we spend those moments with.  Our actions always have a reaction.

Last night my little brother and I spent the night taking care of our mom.  Until around 2:00 my little brother and I stood on either side of our mom and helped keep her calm. Around 2:30 she began to calm down and we both lay down by her bed.  About an hour later we woke up to help calm her again.  But something happened…my little brother jumped up before me as I said, “You got it, Jim?”  He nodded.  I watched him take great care of my mom and every now and again I would get up and help him.  Around 5:00 he looked at me and said “Were you able to get a little sleep?”  My heart smiled.  The little boy who was caught strangling me, pouring milk in my hair, putting vinegar in my apple juice (both bothers get credit for this), and my ever favorite cutting my ponytail straight off my head before my sixth grade year had stood by my mom that much longer trying to allow me to get a bit more sleep.

 

Life is a journey.  Relationships change.  Roles change.  Favorite child status changes day to day ;) We are fearfully and wonderfully made.  God knows our every move and thought and desires for us to experience each moment and treat ourselves kindly.  We don’t get any moment back. 

My prayer today is obviously healing for my mama and rest for my families minds and spirits.  But it’s also for you: wherever you are, that you remember each moment we walk through is just that…a passing moment.  I hope you are surrounded by and doing the things you love and believe to be God’s best for you.  Because either way…time keeps going.  There’s no need to be afraid either way. You might as well live in to the joy we were created to experience.  

“Take courage it is I! Do not be afraid.  Then he climbed in the boat with them and the wind died down.”  Mark 6:50-51

Perspective

So, I’ve been doing this 30 Day Yoga Challenge. Each day I have come to my mat with a different perspective.  I don’t want to be here…I’m so mad we’re doing another flow…Gosh this feeling is amazing…ouch I hurt.  But, each class I have tried to come back to my breath.  Come back to fully taking in the experience and walking away with a new perspective. 

  A few days ago I took two classes almost back to back.  My second class was a silent class and with the sound of each buzzer we were to change poses.  Now, I am not too big on silence…I’ve had to train myself to find solitude and it’s benefits…but…I was up for the challenge.  Two minutes in to class I hear this loud grunting behind me.  My focus was taken back to an elderly gentleman behind me.  I wanted to stay focused, so I quickly turned my gaze back to one inch above my mat.  Through out class my silence was broken by this gentleman making struggling sounds…sighs of pain.  It was at this moment I really saw perspective.  From his view he felt defeat, struggle, anger, force, perhaps judgement…but from my view all I felt was love, understanding.  I wanted so badly to put my hand over his heart and tell him to let his body be for awhile…perhaps it wouldn’t fight against him.

You know, I think our lives some times are like a hot yoga class.  Finding peace under stressful circumstances…that we have often times inflicted upon ourselves.  I walked in to this hot room.  I asked to sweat my pants off.  So why am I so angry at my teacher for asking me to hold a pose for thirty more seconds?  And why do we have such a hard time allowing ourselves to sit and be still? 

If the older gentleman behind me had just taken a moment and allowed his body to sit…lay… breathe…he would have gained that much more from his experience.  But instead…he decided to push through.

I have the tendency to push through.  I’ve noticed a lot of my twenty-something year old friends are trying to push through.  We want to get it right.  We want to be successful.  We’re go-getters, so we're pushing our way to the top no matter the struggle…and perhaps feeling like we're struggling to make life work.  But, I wonder…what if we just laid in a neutral position for a second…took the time to breathe in and exhale…would our life fall in to place?  Would our bodies allow us to move in to the next pose instead of feeling like we have to force it? 

This obviously goes against the grain of what we’re told.  “Fight your way to the top!”  “Never, never give up!”  “Keep pressing forward against all odds!”  But what if we could find peace through adversity?  What about taking time to exhale?  What about allowing our hard work to lead us to our goal rather than forcing our goal to happen? 

Maybe all we really need to do is exhale. 

Good Intentions

I sat down this morning to my cup of coffee and began to journal.  I kept thinking about Intentions.  And as I began to write...I thought...I think I've written about this before. Hah, sure enough...my second trip to Sierra Leone...I was thinking about the exact same thing!  I wrote this right after participating in The Raining Season's first feeding program in Kroo Bay.  Kroo Bay was named The Worlds Worst place to live by the United Nations in 2009.  Each time I have gone, there has been a riot of some kind.  But...imagine...hundreds upon hundreds of people breaking out in fights outside the building we were working in...children yelling, crying, bones breaking.  What began as a our efforts to feed children who we met singing, clapping and laughing quickly turned in to mass hysteria.  As I sit two years removed from this experience.  I still haven't learned my lesson on my good intentions.  Sometimes we walk in to a situation and without batting an eye have created...unnecessary drama. Well...anyways...maybe I should listen to my own advice some times :-)  

Good Intentions. In relationships we all have good intentions. There is usually a person in the relationship who means well. Whether it is for better or worse, in an ideal situation, we have the best interest of the person we are relating to at heart. Is this always true? No. But stay with me. I have a friend who has been in a rough place in life recently and I have had the best intentions of being there for them. I felt like they needed someone to be there. They needed a shoulder to cry on. More than that...I wanted to be that person because of how much I care for them. Loving them will help them get through this time, I thought. But what a person actually needs and how we see to fix it are not always the same thing. Did this person need ‘my’ love…maybe…but perhaps there was a deeper need I was not meeting. 

A few days before I left for my trip I ran into a homeless women and her child with Down syndrome. Standing in the cold with no coat, I decided it would help the situation if I were to pull over and give her my coat. The mom promptly told me…I can’t carry any more things, and my daughter will not wear your coat because she does not trust you. My intentions were good. I did not meet their need, this time. 

Which brings me to my next point. Relationships require trust…which requires time. On our way down here a Finish man sat in front of us as we drove to the dock to board the boat to Freetown. He asked me what we were doing and when I told him he said, "you’re only here 9 days? What can you do in nine days but show your face and leave?" I thought, "We sure can do a lot in 9 days, sir!" This all may sound like rambling but inside my head I’m beginning to sort through some questions about relationships. Not only with our loved ones but the broken hearted, the orphaned, the forgotten. You see we can have the best intentions but if we are not feeding the actual need we do no good. If we don’t take the time to ask, "what is it that you need?" we may be trying to build a house on sinking sand. My friend may well have needed me to leave him alone. And rather than assume I could fix the problem with a coat I should have asked the homeless women what I could do for her. Because we can have the best intentions…but when I look at the works of Jesus…he didn’t assume…he got in there and found out what the problem was. And more poignant than that…generally he had TRUST of the people he was relating to.

I see this happening here in Sierra Leone. I see The Raining Season building trust and taking time to address the need they see in front of them before jumping in and fixing the problem they see fit to solve. I see intentionality. They are addressing things from the inside out. They are building relationships one-step at a time. But…simply asking the right questions doesn’t always solve the problem right away either. Nothing is ever easy. 

Today in Kroo Bay…I saw desperation. I’ve seen it before. Last time Beth and I were here we created quite a mob as we past out baby dolls and had to be escorted out with the soccer team barricading around us to keep the children from bombarding us. But today…it was unimaginable. I don’t quite know how you problem solve that. So many variables are involved in the reason why this village lays in the extreme poverty that it does , that all the good intentions in the world will do nothing without a little trial and error. 

We went in today to feed 5000 children! Initially, they were going to bring in 2500 and give them two meals to take to another child. Once we got there…things looked a bit different. We began handing out a plate of rice with a fish sauce and water to each child. As the first group of children finished their meals they were escorted out of the building and the next round of children were going to be brought in. Things began to get a little chaotic, but we got them fed and out. Then…hysteria broke out. We ran out of hot food and were just going to give a bag with 2 cups of rice per child as they came through a line. More and more children and parents began storming the doors of the building. Children began beating each other up. Strangling one another. Pushing, shoving. Crying. As children came through the line we noticed many of them limping and we knew things outside were not going well. They began having us hand out packets of rice through the window because we could no longer safely bring children in to the building. We calmed the crowd down and tried to bring a few children in. As I looked down, a little boy ran by crying and holding his hand tightly…his fingers were broken. Another little girl ran in crying holding her hand tightly and Cari and I ran to see if she was alright…her finger was either sprained or broken as well. With no tape or medical supplies, Cari and I were able to use our pony-tail holders to splint the little girls finger as best we could. 

What do you do when your best intentions begin to create such hysteria that desperately hungry parents and children are hurting one another so severely? How do you problem solve that? What system do you try next? How do you problem solve that according to the context of the culture that you live in? I’ve heard of it being done in other countries…but this is a different relationship, you see…you can’t do things the way you would do them in Nashville, Cambodia, Panama, Russia…it has to be done the Sierra Leonian way. What way is that? How do you help a village voted the World’s Worst place to live?? It goes without saying that it was an incredible blessing that enough money was raised to feed 5000 children. A Feeding Program began today that will continue over the years and, by trial and error, a model will be implemented to help children get a hot meal without being stampeded to the ground. But…how? It wont be done in 9 days time. It will be done by the sustainable presence of organizations like TRS that are willing to move in to the neighborhood. Organizations that are willing to say…this can look differently…organizations that say…Dreams. Spark. Change. I believe we are all in a place to have a sustainable impact in ministries like this…but, if anything, I think we should begin looking at our intentions within our relationships. Are they what the other person needs? Are we building trust? Are we moving in for 9 days, long enough to show our face and then hitting the road? Or are we building sustainable, trusting, meaningful deep relationships where we get to the root of the matter and figure out why God placed us in that person’s life? I’m sure beginning to figure out my place here. No answers yet…but I’ll let you know when I do. Until then...Help me fight to SAVE the ORPHAN! We'll keep trying things till we figure out how to restore God's kingdom together! 

Intentionally and Unconditionally (hah), Regina