I have been struggling for a while.

I've been dealing with my chronic pain disorder for a few years now and never figured out how to use my faith to help me through it. All I could seem to do would be to fuss at God- get mad, get angry, cry tears of frustration that I was so helpless and hopeless at times. Which is fine, because God can take my anger. God's big enough for that.
Side note: It's astounding how much my pain disorder controls my life.

Today I finally got it.

I am fearfully and wonderfully made. I was deliberately created, specially, uniquely, just the way that I am. My legs were crooked for a reason. I had to learn to walk with a brace for a reason. I don't know what that reason is, but I'm unique and God knows that.

Maybe I'm meant to be that one girl who'll go out on a limb and test a wonder drug. Maybe I'm the only one who will be honest enough about my struggles to get some attention to worldwide sufferers of pain disorders.

Maybe I have something to learn from my pain disorder.

Am I supposed to rejoice in the fact that some days it takes strength that is honestly not my own to get out of bed? I don't think so. I don't know if God wants me to be joyful about this- certainly God doesn't think I'm wrong for getting pissy every now and then.

But I finally get it. I'm unique. I'm special. This is how I see life. Everything down to my very anatomy- my very nerve endings- my brain cells- is different with me. I am a unique human.

That's a good feeling. God knows that I'm miserable sometimes, and it's not what God desired to see me hurt, but God knows that I do. God is holding my hand through all of this as I grow.

And I'm thankful.



Uniquely yours,

Winter Conference

I went to Montreat this past weekend with my college for our annual winter conference. Several professors attend with a large portion of the student body and we spend the weekend together in the beautiful mountains of Montreat, enjoying a Sabbath together. This conference was such a renewal for me. I'm really grateful for everyone who worked on the retreat, those who prepared for it for weeks before the event. I'm also thankful for everyone who went and made it such a great experience for me. I felt so loved and accepted, and I got to interact with members of the community that I normally don't see or get to be with. It was so refreshing to see my peers ignoring the social order or status quo and just existing as a single group, with a common purpose and love for one another.
You might say that I'm being too much of a hippie about this, but I think that I'm just genuinely surprised to see my peers be so... nice.

Thank you for that.

While I was on the retreat I felt a tug to "come back home"; to come back to the Presbyterian faith that I grew up with. For years I ran around to difference churches, looking at difference theologies, researching this and that until this weekend I realized that what I already believe is accomplished in the faith that my church family instilled in my so many years ago. I'm proud to be a member of my church and I know it. I know how Presbyterians do things. I know our rules, our laws, how to get a job with a Presbyterian church, what we believe and what we practice. 15 years of solid Presbyterianism has bred in my a fierce love of bagpipes, tartan, and Scotland. I love worship services that make less of the performer and celebrate the God who gave us the talent with which to worship. I love that we're held accountable to an association but not hierarchical enough with our rules and confessions that we allow heresies to sneak in and become cornerstone dogmas.
I'm so happy that my denomination, and I know some people hate denominations, accepts the fact that God made me a woman and equal to a man. I'm overjoyed that I'm not a second-class citizen. I feel accepted as a member of the body of Christ, regardless of my gender, and it's beautiful to me that I can serve in the full pastoral capacity to which I have been called.
More than this, it's home. Home isn't perfect, but nothing is perfect but Christ. Sure, there are controversies. Who hasn't had them? And the confessions of the Presbyterian church fully admit that human doctrine in this area can be subject to any number of errors (especially outside of historical context). But I won't waste my time addressing every criticism of my home church. Because it's just that; it's home. It's home, and that's enough for me.

I have not been liberated.

Last night at Hobbie Talk, we discussed women: how they were treated in the Bible, how they were and are treated by the Church, how society views women.
In this discourse, the subject of the Vagina Monologues came up. A group of students from the college are putting on the annual production of the collection of monologues celebrating the vagina (shock!) soon, and auditions are this week.
I am normally quite the prude. I always thought that I was very conservative, maybe just a little insecure. Now I realize it's because I've been trapped for most of my life, hiding secrets and shames and not telling anyone. This is one of the many things that the Vagina Monologues addresses.
I have finally realized that for years and years, I have allowed society and tradition to dictate some of my most fundamental beliefs. Like that God is a man. I'm not about to start referring to God as a chick, but why do I see God as this huge man with a beard hugging the earth? Why do I give God that masculine image? Why has it NEVER offended me? Why has it not hurt me that God, who is characterized as a mother NUMEROUS times in Scripture, has been constantly referred to as a male?
Why is it that it has never bothered me, and I have never questioned, that humans are referred to as "all men", rather than simply "all humans"? Don't tell me that it's because "all men" is shorter to write or say. History shows us that brevity wasn't favored by the great minds and writers of the past. Proof is in the mass of reading that I have to do for Philosophy, easily 100 pages on trying to use a logical equation to prove that God exists. It can be written in under 100 pages, peeps. Trust me.

Why is it that rape isn't always considered a violent crime? Why is it JUST a sex crime? Does everyone realize that the psychological mindset of the rapist isn't to have sex for pleasure but to overpower the victim? It's like calling assault a party foul. "But normally guys wrestle for fun. This one just got out of hand."

Sound ridiculous? I thought so.

So now that my religious sabbatical is over and me and Jesus and my vocation are tight and in a stable loving relationship, I'm going to liberate myself as a woman. I'm going to celebrate the fact that God made me a woman and all of the intricacies that go with womanhood. I'm in for a beautiful journey, and I encourage you to make it with me.