Wrapping up a year of reading

This year, I think reading was my lifeline.  It helped me to escape.  It helped me to learn.  It helped me to relax.  It helped me when I was people-d out.  In so many ways, reading (and writing) helped me this year.  Reading has become a part of who I am; I am a lover of Jesus, a lover of people (but an introvert, so don't get too crazy), a friend, a learner, and a reader.

I started out wanting to read 50 books this year; about one a week.  As I neared that goal early in the summer (the amazing summer without a job and full of relaxation), I realized I might be able to do 100 books in a year.  With two days left in 2014, I'm calling it.  The final count for the year is 117.  I would never have guessed that I would have been able to read so many books, or that I would have enjoyed it so much.  I would have never guessed it would have become a lifeline in a stressful and hectic season of life; a way to survive when life outside felt out of control and unbelievably stressful.  But it has been so good.

Without further ado, here are the books I've read since I last updated my list (and the list before).  Once again, my favorites are bolded.

1. Unstoppable: Running the Race you were Born to Win by Christine Caine
2. The Giver by Lois Lowry
3. Finding Blue by Lois Lowry
4. Messenger by Lois Lowry
5. Son by Lois Lowry
6. I Like Giving by Brad Formosma
7. The Story of Marriage by John and Lisa Bevere
8. Fire and Fragrance: From the Great Commandment to the Great Commission by Sean Feucht and Andy Byrd
9. Ender’s Game by Orson Scott Card
10. Prince Caspian by C.S. Lewis
11. Voyage of the Dawn Treader by C.S. Lewis
12. How I Changed my Mind about Women in Leadership: Compelling Stories from Prominent Evangelicals edited by Alan F. Johnson
13. Making Vision Stick by Andy Stanley
14. God’s Whisper Manifesto by Andi Cumbo
15. From this Day Forward: Five Commitments to Fail-Proof Your Marriage by Craig and Amy Groeschel
16. Every Bitter Thing Is Sweet: Tasting the Goodness of God in All Things by Sara Hagerty
17. Speak by Nish Weiseth
18. The Invisible Girls by Sarah Thebarge
19. Let’s All Be Brave: Living Life with Everything You Have by Annie Downs
20. God Knows my Name: Never Forgotten, Forever Loved by Beth Redman
21. Lady in Waiting: Becoming God's Best While Waiting for Mr. Right by Jackie Kendall and Debby Jones
22. A Life of Miracles by Don Schulze
23. You’ll Get Through This by Max Lucado
24. God is Able by Priscilla Shirer
25. A Story Unfinished: 99 Days with Eliot by Matt Mooney
26. Heidi by Joanna Spyri
27. The Hardest Peace by Kara Tippetts
28. Connected by Erin Davis
29. Tables in the Wilderness by Preston Yancey
30. Living Courageously: You Can Face Anything, Just Do It Afraid by Joyce Meyer
31. Little Women by Louisa May Alcott
32. Mended by Angie Smith
33. The Beauty of Broken by Elisa Morgan
34. The Millennials by Thom S. Rainer and Jess W. Rainer
35. Wild: from Lost to Found on the Pacific Crest Trail by Cheryl Strayed
36. Unbroken: A World War II Story of Survival, Resilience, and Redemption by Laura Hillenbrand
37. The Body of Christopher Creed by Carol Plum-Ucci
38. Title Pending: Things I Think About when I Make Stuff by Justin McRoberts
39. Eight Twenty Eight: When Love Didn’t Give Up by Larissa and Ian Murphy

Through

This has been a tough semester.  Looking through the archives, this seems to be a theme for the last several years.

My dad was arrested again, likely to serve the rest of his living days in prison.  In the meantime he is on house arrest.  I'm doing nearly twice the work for about half of the money.  I've dealt with some of the most frustrating, challenging students and student issues I've faced since I started this job seven years ago this semester.  One of my closest friends has essentially been out of the picture, dealing with his own issues; his absence hurts a lot.  Last week, one of my brother's closest friends from high school and college was sentenced to six months in jail and will be branded a sex offender for the rest of his life.  I'm still living in a space that's not my own, with 95% of my stuff in storage.  The estrangement in our family looms large with the stuff going on with my dad and with my first nephew on the way.

On the plus side, a former roommate got married a few weeks ago and one of my dearest friends got engaged last night.  And while I've been excited for them, it's hard to swing the emotional pendulum to the other side without collapsing into a puddle of tears.

It just feels like a whole lot -- and it is.  But God is sustaining me, and for that I'm so grateful.

As I've walked this road this semester, God has been showing me that I've just got to walk through the valley of the shadow of death.

I can't pretend it's not there or ignore it.

I can't wait it out or stare it down and expect things to magically change or resolve themselves.

I can't -- at least in this set of situations -- ask for deliverance and immediate teleportation to the other side.

I can't go around.

I must go through.

I must resolutely fix my eyes on Jesus and walk right through the middle of valley of the shadow of death.  I lean on His promises that His rod and staff will guide, comfort, and protect Me.  I take Him at His word when He says that He will ultimately give me beauty for ashes and the oil of joy for mourning.  I trust that He will use this story somehow, and that He will work all things together for good -- both mine and ultimately His.

I'm not at a place where I can speak in broad platitudes or offer universally applicable advice, but if you're facing things you have no idea how you'll make it through, keep going.  Walk through.  God is with you, and you will make it.  He will sustain you.

When you pass through the waters,

I will be with you;

and when you pass through the rivers,

they will not sweep over you.

When ou walk through the fire,

you will not be burned;

the flames will not set you ablaze.

For I am the Lord your God,

the Holy One of Israel, your Savior.

Isaiah 43:2-3a

Why Blog?

Several days ago, I posted a link to Facebook about my dad.  I took it down almost immediately.  "Am I just begging for attention?  Would I really have these conversations with people in real life?"  As I second guessed myself, I took the post down and spent a good chunk of the day and this morning thinking and wondering to myself, "Why do you have this blog at all?  You realize it's public and that this is archived somewhere on the internet forever, even if you take it down, right?"

After thinking about why I blog, I came to three conclusions:

• I blog for me.  I blog so I can remember how I felt during some of the highs and lows of life.  I write so I can see how the hand of God has led and sustained me through both the good times and the bad.  I write so that I don't forget -- how far I've come, how much things have changed, and how God has been with me through each step of the way.  It's fair to say that this could be accomplished by simply keeping a private journal, but in some bizarre way knowing that a small handful of people will read this keeps me accountable to writing and recording life in a way that I wouldn't in a private journal.

• I blog because stories are important.  Positions are polarizing; opinions can be discounted and written off.  But people's stories -- their experiences and what they've lived though -- cannot be discounted or invalidated.  I have no idea who this story will help if anyone, but here I am putting my story out there.  I fail (oh man, do I fail!), but I have the courage to learn from my mistakes and keep showing up.  I won't let shame or embarrassment hold me down or keep my story in the dark.  I will show up -- even when it is hard -- and tell the truth.  My story is a part of who I am; I cannot separate it from my reality.  This is my story, and while it's hard and messy and full of mistakes, I choose to believe that in some way it matters so I will tell it. 

• I blog because our greatest ministry is likely to come out of our places of our deepest hurts.  I've been depressed.  I've tossed out my career and my life plan.  My dad has been to jail, twice.  All of these experiences have grown me in the empathy department, and have helped me to relate to others in a way that I couldn't prior to me experiencing them.  I write as a way for others to connect to me and get to know a bit of what's beneath the surface.  I will trust the Lord with the results of that.

Musings on a Broken Dad

I think I can say without a doubt that December 24, 2002 was the worst day of my life.  The year had been a tough one: finding out my dad had lived a secret life I knew nothing about for the first 21 years of my life, finding out he was arrested and ultimately sentenced to 6 months in jail, and ending up on academic probation my first semester of graduate school in part because it was hard and in part because I was so preoccupied and distracted from everything going on in my family.  The whole year was a tough one -- but without a doubt, the hardest day of my life was December 24, 2002.

The sting of learning I'd be on academic probation was still fresh.  The enormity of everything I'd learned about in my family's past still loomed large over me.  But on Christmas Eve as I waited to see my dad in his orange jumpsuit for 15 minutes, it was the lowest I have ever felt in my life.  I felt the embarrassment and shame of his crime.  I felt the crushing loss of innocence.  I felt the loss of everything I'd felt was the truth of my childhood, knowing it was a fake veneer that covered the truth of who my dad was.

As I held his Christmas gift -- gray sweats I'd bought from Walmart, the only jail-approved alternatives to the orange jumpsuit -- in my hands that day I wondered, "What has my life become?  Will it ever be normal again?"

Over time, things became more normal.  My dad was released from jail and, although he never matured into an emotionally present adult, I learned to live with it.  I went through counseling and spent lots of time with Jesus working to unravel and understand and make sense of my life.  I eventually believed that my dad's choices truly were his own and in no way were a reflection on my past and were not leading me to an inevitable future where I would repeat his mistakes.  Basically, I both came to terms with my past and realized that I could live a future that is fully aware of what had happened, yet not overshadowed or defined by it.  And that was freeing.

But every few years, it feels like something rips the band aid off of the wound that has been healing in my heart for years.  It stings and is a fresh reminder of the pain that is there.

This week my dad was rearrested -- this time for four felonies, not a misdemeanor.  This time, there is DNA evidence linking him to the crime.  This time -- if he pleads guilty and there's not a plea deal for something less serious -- we are talking years in prison, not months in jail.  And that's just all really hard to process, especially given that he's already 70 and his health is not great.  It's hard not to play that all out to some pretty obvious logical conclusions.

This week has been a fresh reminder of how broken my dad is and how hard all of this is.  It has been a fresh reminder of how much all of this hurts when it's right in your face.  At the same time, what I can say is that I am in a much better place to deal with it all this time.  I am surrounded by a great group of people who are my friends and who love me unconditionally.  I more fully understand that God uses ALL THINGS  -- even the shitty, heartbreaking things like this -- together for His good.

This has been the hardest week I've had in 4-5 years, but God has been faithful through it all.  I would appreciate your prayers for our family because this has been one hell of a week and this storm is likely to get a bit worse before it gets better.  And while it is very very fragile and just a dim flicker at this point, I do hold out hope that my dad will come to understand the both weight of his issues and that he will come to know and turn his issues over to Jesus.  I pray that even in his old age, he will experience some healing.  Please pray for our family; we need it.

Mars Hill and Mark Driscoll

I actually started out my last post to write all about Mark Driscoll and what has happened at Mars Hill.  I didn't feel like I could adequately explain why I care so much without giving some of my own background, so that's what the last post was all about -- now back to why I started writing.

Watching this whole Mark Driscoll thing unfold -- from a distance and on the internet -- has caused all of the feels.  

Why do I care so much?! 

How could Mark Driscoll think he could get away with this for so long?

I'm so glad someone called the emporer naked.  This serves him right.

God please help Mark Driscoll and his family.
How could any woman stomach being married to this guy when he does not value women?!?

God please help the victims of the spiritual abuse suffered at the hands of Mars Hill.

OMG what a black eye on the body of Christ.

This is what I could be if I don't check pride at the door.

There but for the grace of God go I.

Jesus be near.

In short, I don't know what to think.  I am glad he has resigned.  The more information that comes out, the deeper it seems that the black hole goes.  It's sad.  I'm so sad for the women and others who suffered spiritual abuse either directly in his hands or in the environment he helped to create -- an environment of misogyny, bullying, and authoritarianism.

It shows me how grace matters.  It shows me how destructive environments that promote Jesus yet do not extend grace can be.  It shows me how actions have consequences.  And it is yet another illustration that a person's gifiting -- communication, rallying people behind an idea, etc. -- can destroy them in the spotlight if their character is not strong enough to sustain their calling.

Yet I'd be hardpressed not to see a bit of myself in him.  It's the perfect illustration of what can happen if you surround yourself with people who unilaterally agree with you and won't call you on your issues.  It's a reality check, both to the body of Christ and to me.  I hope we never have people hurt in the hands of spiritual leaders -- particularly those lauded by those around them -- again.  I pray that God is developing my character so that whatever sphere of influence I end up in -- large or small -- my character is not insufficient to sustain me.

It's all just really sad to me.  And I do hope Mark Driscoll heals and is restored -- but I also hope that he truly repents so there is not even more collateral damage and more victims of spiritual abuse.

Spiritual Abuse

I grew up in a series of dysfunctional churches.  From the onset, let me acknowledge that churches are made of people -- all imperfect -- and are therefore by definition imperfect.  I know that and am firmly committed to one such church now.  But the churches I grew up in were, like, REALLY dysfunctional.

I remember never feeling like I fit in church -- like I was a square peg in a round hole.  I remember the shaming of women, like when two girls in our church got pregnant and both had to "confess" in front of the congregation while there were no repercussions for the baby daddies.  I remember a drummer in another church who had three babies by two different women in our church all before he was 18.  I remember being made to feel like my intelligence was a liability.  I remember my mom crying in the car because going to church hurt too much, but making us go inside anyway.  I remember when our pastor had an affair with another staff member, causing her to "resign", while there was no confession on his part.  Basically, I remember chaos, confusion, and hurt when I think of growing up in church -- all while being made to feel inferior because I was a woman and rebellious because I would ask questions.

Understandably, it left me with a bad taste in my mouth as a child on into my early thirties -- one that I now realize as an adult was shame, anger, judgement, and a feeling of cognitive dissonance.  I felt like I could not trust God Himself because, at least if He was anything like His representatives, He was not kind and He sort of thought women were out to get Him.  He also didn't like independent thinkers.

All of this me hurt, wounded, and broken.  God over time and in His own sweet, gentle ways has healed these wounds and has made me whole again.  For this, I am both in awe and unspeakably grateful.  It's incredible how He has done that.

It's taken time, but God does not do sloppy work.  He doesn't cut corners and His healing is complete.  I know and believe that He will use ALL of this for my good and for His glory.

God's Plan is SO MUCH BIGGER than Our Own

A bit over a year ago, one of my coworkers retired leaving holes in our ability to teach some of our required courses.  He quit as close to the beginning of the semester as possible, which didn't leave my boss much time to come up with a plan to cover these courses.  Because three other people had left too, my boss really had limited options as to what to do to get everything covered.

She approached me and told me I would need to teach a course called Methods and Standards.  While I agreed,  I was skeptical. (what choice did I have, really? not to mention that I wanted to help us stay afloat on turbulent waters...)

I never had this class in school -- as in, I literally didn't even understand what the title of the course meant when I was assigned to teach it.  Yeah.  Clueless.  As I dug into learning the material, I realized that while I knew a bit more than I originally gave myself credit for but this was still a major stretch out of my comfort zone and area of expertise for sure.  Nonetheless, I did my best, worked to learn the material, and it actually turned out really well -- the students learned a lot and used what they learned in internships and co-ops and have written to tell me so more so than for any other course I've taught. My teaching evaluations turned out well too.

Last year was supposed to be my last year at Arkansas, and our department had an ambitious plan to hire three faculty members to cover some of the vacancies that had been created by people leaving.  However out of the 150+ applicants, for various reasons we were only able to hire one person.  Upon realizing that we were going to be short staffed again this year, my boss' first words were -- literally -- "Well who is going to teach methods?"

And that's a part of how I came to be offered another year's contract to stay on to teach at the University of Arkansas as a clinical faculty member.

God assures us in His word that all things work together for the good of those who love Him and are called according to His purposes.  He promises us that He has a wonderful plan for each of our lives.  It's really hard not to marvel at the detail of the intricacy of the plans as they unfold and plan out.

In the last week or two, God has been showing me that some of the things that we think are the crappiest and the biggest mistakes and derailments -- teaching Methods, for example -- are actually exactly the things that He uses to position us and keep us where He wants us.  The things we view as liabilities are actually strategic positioning.  How gracious of Him to show me that as I continue to face challenges and things that I think, "Woof, this completely sucks and is not ideal!"

My boss said she would never hire an instructor, ever.  But she did.  And it was because I could teach methods.  It was because God's plan had given me an advantage I could never have created for myself, wouldn't have chosen, and initially didn't want to or think I could do.  He is funny that way.

My perspective is all wrong.  I know in part, and am just seeing in part.  God has a plan and it is far greater than I can comprehend with many more moving pieces than I could ever understand.  Knowing this helps me to trust Him as He leads me to do hard, confusing, and scary things.