A Hummingbird's Call

Nestled in the village of Upper Sandusky is a one room church. Unless you knew this church existed, you might miss it amid the forest of grave stones that surround it. This small church, known as the "Old Mission Church." The church was founded by John Stewart in 1816 as a mission to the Wyandot Indians. It was soon recognized as the first official mission of the Methodist Episcopal Church in America. This church holds a great history for many, and I am no exception. 

The Old Mission Church and Cemetery. I helped lay that stone path when I was just a few years old. 

Though the building functions mostly as a historical site, during the summers, churches from the community come together to worship once weekly, early Sunday morning. In my childhood, I looked forward to getting up early and making the drive with my father to Old Mission. We parked at the edge of the cemetery and walked up the stone path that my family helped lay. My father and I always arrived early, often beating Jean, the keeper of the building, to the door. We would spend a few moments sitting on the benches outside the building, enjoying the morning sunrise as the mist rose over the grave stones. 

Sorry, pictures of pictures are never great quality, but this is a photo of me and Eagle Bear. I'm holding a doll that P-M made for me. 

The Sunday I most looked forward to each summer was the Sunday closest to the 4th of July. It was on that Sunday that my dear "grandpa" was invited to speak.

Eagle-Bear is a proud Wyandot Indian and a United Methodist lay speaker in the East Ohio Conference.

In both of our younger years, I would wait patiently next to my father to watch "Black-Horse" (his motorcycle) crest the hill and drive the winding path to the church. I knew we would catch up, asking how his wife, Precious-Moments, was. He would then turn his attention to me. To meet my youth, he always had a small gift. A peacock feather, a small raccoon pin, a small stitched doll handmade by P-M, and other trinkets are still reminders of those days. The most lasting gift came, however, after we walked into Old Mission.

Eagle-Bear always put me to work. Whether handing out bulletins, passing out hymnals, or passing the plate, I knew that I was important to Eagle-Bear in the work of bringing the Gospel. I never felt patronized for being a child or for being a girl, but instead felt a respected member of the community of faith.

When it came time to choose my confirmation sponsor in the fall of 1997, I knew no other choice than Eagle-Bear. He was not only a grandfather to me (having not had much relationship with my biological grandfathers), but also a faith giant. I recalled the passion with which he would sign the Lord's Prayer. I remember how he would preach himself exhausted. I remember how he met each hug and handshake with grace and peace. He represented his people and his God. He radiated love.

On the day of my confirmation, Eagle-Bear gave me the greatest gift. He presented me with a Wyandot name. "Little Hummingbird."  Hummingbirds are creatures of color and energy, agility and grace, bearing witness to their creator. Though the name seemed "Little," it felt like a lot to live into. 

The Hummingbird necklace that I often wear. 

From then on Eagle-Bears visits did not contain physical gifts, but contained messages and encouragements. Even throughout college I valued the few words that Eagle-Bear and I exchanged. Though at times his health wavered, his spirit and passion never did.  Though there are many mentors I can thank for nurturing my call into ministry, Eagle-Bear was the first. I remember the joy on his face as I told him one July morning that I was entering the process toward ordained ministry. He clasped my face in his hands and said, "You're a beautiful woman of God. You always have been. This is what you're meant for."

Yes, friend, this is what I was meant for. I will be ordained as an Elder in Full Connection in the West Ohio Annual Conference on June 11, 2013. As I reflect on the many people who nurtured my call, Eagle-Bear stands out. Thanks, Grandpa, for seeing something in me before I saw it in myself. 

Eagle Bear, 2006

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This blog post is part of the Exploration 2013 synchblog calling ordained and commissioned clergy to talk about “who called you on your journey of ministry?” Join the synchblog (even after today!) here.

Exploration is a three-day event for young adults age 18-26 to hear, discern, and respond to God’s call to ordained ministry and to explore their gifts for service as a deacon or elder in The United Methodist Church. If you have sensed God might be calling you to ordained ministry, wondered what ministry in The United Methodist Church is all about, would like help sifting through issues involved in an ordained vocation, or want to learn more about The United Methodist seminaries and theological schools, this gathering is for you. Sign up today.

Election Day

If you don't want to hear my whining and excuses for why I haven't written, skip down to below the line...

I am making an effort to blog at least once a week. I am doing a lot of writing otherwise and should make this a discipline. I've found myself in situations thinking, "I'd really like to blog about that." So, friends, here it goes (again). *good luck getting this out of your head*

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Cue John Mellancamp (Cougar? No Cougar? Who can be sure?)

I was born in a small town...

My first experience voting was making the pilgrimage to the basement of the Upper Sandusky Library. It was the primaries before the 2004 election, and I was allowed to vote before I was 18. It was exciting. I wore my sticker proudly.

Through college I dutifully drove home each time there was a vote.  I even drove to Marseilles to vote in the fire station with two people working the polls.  I was raised to understand that my vote counted, and after living through (albeit not old enough to vote in) the 2000 election, I took my rite to vote seriously.

Fast forward to 2012.

I read a blog post in which a man (white and most likely middle aged) called himself entitled to vote.  I was upset... ok, enraged, actually... I have sat through enough classes (thanks, Dr. Person and Dr. Lobody) to know that the right to vote was hard earned by many groups of people.  As a woman, I especially loved taking a class in seminary on the Social Gospel Movement, learning the stories of suffragettes who I now hold as mothers of the faith. The tireless work of many have earned the right to vote for the masses.

So as my partner and I drove to the early voting center here in Columbus, I was happy to live into my right to vote. I trudged through the shouters, politely smiled at my political party's offer of a sample ballot, and took my place in the line at the abandoned Kohl's to cast my ballot.

And, as is tradition, I received my "I *shape of Ohio meant to look like a heart*Voting" sticker, I wondered whether I should put it on my shirt right then and there, or wait.

I waited.

I'm glad I waited, because today, watching the news coverage of people standing out in the blustery air waiting to vote, I found myself missing the days of catching up with neighbors while waiting for the red, white, and blue striped curtain to open in the voting booth. I voted early because this is my first presidential election living in the Capitol City of THE swing state. Yes, I know you're jealous.

But regardless, I count myself honored (not entitled) to have cast a ballot in this election.  I hope you'll do the same, whether you're walking into the fire station of a one stop sign town or standing in a line wrapped around the city block. Exercise your right. Vote. 

Sneaky

RT @amylippoldt: "God is sneaky. God tends to murmur to our hearts." (rather than call in big obvious ways). #explo2011

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=1YkjXRMQiw8

This video is titled, "You Sneaky Mom!" When we talked this morning at Exploration about God being sneaky, this is all I can think about.

But in reality, when it comes to our calling, God is sneaky. Sometimes it is by putting us in conversation with someone unexpected. Sometimes it is getting us to an event that we're not sure about but it is life changing.

And sometimes God is most sneaky by leading us gently into what we are called to be and do. I have shared with my small how I was never one to feel scared or try to run away from what God has called for me. God was "sneaky" in the still, small voice that guided me gently but steadily toward vocational ministry.

The paths that we find ourselves on toward ministry are never the same. We have varying reactions to our call to ministry in whatever form that takes. But we are all called.

Dream

(This is my post from last night... I don't have internet access in my room, so I post when I can.)

They say absence makes the heart grow fonder. I think that if you were my husband you would disagree. He called me this afternoon to see how my flight was, and I blew him off to talk to someone who had great questions about GCSRW. Telling him I’d call him *right back,* I bid him a good afternoon. Now, it is 11:09 (in St. Louis). Finally calling him back, he answers in a groggy tone. CRAP. I forgot about the time difference. I’ve just disturbed his slumber. But I have so much I want to tell him about today.

I want to tell him that Mark Miller sang one of our favorite songs. “All Are Welcome” has become an instant favorite not only at the church I serve (North Broadway United Methodist Church, a Reconciling Congregation), but also a favorite in our household. I took a video of Mark and the singers performing the chorus and attempted to send it to Garrett, and the video was too large…

I also wanted to tell him that I ran into Andrew, one of the members of my small group in 2007 (who also bought our washer/dryer before we moved). Garrett got to meet him and his fiancé, hear about their journey of faith, and the four of us shared what it was like to be married and in ministry. I tried to text Garrett, but in the lower level of the hotel, I couldn’t get enough signal to send.

I want to share how a woman in my small group has had deep conversations with her husband about the meaning of baptism, and how a man has shared about how he and his wife have had conversations about baptism, children, and in-laws. Another small group member orders her pizza the same way my husband does. I didn’t want to ruin the sacred moments in our small group to reach for my cell phone to text him. I value the sharing that happened and didn’t want to be the one to take us out of the mindset and soul-state that God had called us into.

So many incredible things are already happening at Exploration. I shared with someone today how this is my third Exploration (Florida as a participant, Texas as a recruiter/small group leader, St. Louis as a recruiter/blogger/tweeter/small group leader/agency representative), and how this event holds deep meaning for me. She then said, “I can see how this event has deep meaning for the Church.”
Rev. Hamilton spoke of his hope that of the 600(ish) gathered in the hall for worship, 300 would be called to ordained ministry. He then went on to share that each United Methodist pastor will serve approximately 8 churches (Does my two-point charge count as two? That means I am at three now… see honey, only 5 more churches… 5 more moves… that doesn’t sound too awfully, right?). If the math is correct, that means the ministry of those gathered will touch around 2,400 churches. Do you feel as though that is enough churches to change the trajectory of the United Methodist Church? Rev. Hamilton thinks so. I do, too.

We have each been called to this place not to discern if we are called to ministry, but to discern what our ministry will look like. Each of us was invited to remember our baptism, a calling in and of itself, and dream God-sized dreams for our ministries. Blessings on your dreaming!

I Am a Woman

I am a woman

born of God

I am a woman

born of love

I am caring and competent

vulnerable and powerful

seeking wholeness

physically, emotionally, and spiritually

I am a woman

reaching out to others

making a difference in myself

my family

community

church

and the world

I am empowering myself

to empower others

I am struggling to accept my anger

and use it to gain strength, confidence,

courage, and intimacy with others

I am a woman

who sees the interconnectedness of all human beings

who values the unique gifts of all

I am a woman who leads and follows

who accepts responsibility for myself

and the choices I make

Yes, I am a woman

who sees each day as a new beginning

a chance to grow in self, love, and service

I am a woman

born of God

I am a woman

born of love

And I can be

All that I am

- Ms Katherine Tyler Scott

This is one of the first prayers in Women's Uncommon Prayers: Our Lives Revealed, Nurtured, Celebrated. I have found many of the prayers in the book moving already, and I look forward to praying many more of them.

After church on Sunday a gentleman introduced himself to me. He had been a member of North Broadway United Methodist Church when he was younger. In the years between then and now, he had dabbled in many denominations and faiths, finding space for worship in the Baha'i faith at times. He was visiting his sister, a member of NBUMC, and he spoke to me of how exciting it was for him to come back to his home church and see worship being led by two energetic, called, and capable women. He talked about how he used to be frustrated when he came "home" to find the wall of pastors filled with the pictures of staunch looking men. We chatted about the place of women within not only the United Methodist Church, but in the Church as a whole and in other faiths as well.

As I walked home (so yes, the walk is short because I live across the parking lot) and the time after, I found myself thinking about how I count myself blessed to work with a female senior pastor. She has journeyed in many places that I myself hope to someday journey, and she has the experiences to share with me as we journey in ministry.

I have so many women in ministry to look up to, so I don't want to sound brag-y about just one. God has placed so many remarkable women in my life. I am so thankful that the United Methodist Church is a place that values and recognizes the call of women. I know that there is still work to be done (shout out to my GCSRW sisters and brothers), but on this particularly mundane Tuesday, I am taking a moment to be thankful for Rev. Dr. Stevens and all the other women with whom I am in ministry. I am blessed to count you as colleagues and friends.

You may now kiss...

Oh dear... watch this video:

Apart from being wildly funny (in my opinion), the Improv Everywhere wedding has alerted me to a dilemma for clergy.

Did you see how when they shared their kiss you could see the officiant's head in the background?

You didn't? Watch it again.

I have a picture of myself in the same situation!

Photography by Jennifer Snyder

This beautiful couple had one of the most fun and touching weddings I've officiated! But here, in their stunning first kiss, one can see my crazy mug below their chins and above their shoulders!

And again! When I married my husband's fraternity brother (wait...) When I officiated at the wedding of my husband's fraternity brother and dear friend, it happened again! Two lovely people who now have my right arm forever captured in their photo. UGH!

When the officiant invites the couple to smooch, I don't know many couples who could politely wait to kiss until the officiant steps out of the way of the picture!

Clergy, what do you do? And do you have similar pictures? I'd love to compile them and post another entry of our invasion of first kisses!

top 10 hymns

My friend, Diane (who I've mentioned in an earlier post), just created another brilliant blog experience. She challenged bloggers and friends to list their favorite hymns. Her challenge comes with a few rules:

1 - Hymns must be included in the 1989 United Methodist Hymnal, so no The Faith We Sing hymns may be included (excluding, to my dismay, We Are Called).

2 - It must make your heart thrill to hear/sing it.

3 - You must be able to sing at least one verse by heart.


So, in no particular order, my top 10 favorite hymns:

159 - Lift High the Cross (Newbolt) - Nothing beats the descant from Ada First UMC on this one, but it holds a place on the list for many reasons.

555 - Forward Through the Ages (Hosmer) - This will be sung at my funeral. Take note.

707 - Hymn of Promise (Sleeth)

302 - Christ the Lord is Risen Today (C. Wesley) - There is just something about the Hallelujah's after you haven't sung them for 40+ days.

203 - Hail to the Lord's Annointed (Montgomery)

400 - Come Thou Fount of Every Blessing (Robinson) - I must say that I hear Sufjan Stevens and/or David Crowder usually when I think of this.

147 - All Things Bright and Beautiful (Alexander)

369 - Blessed Assurance (Crosby) - I don't always love the blood language, but I love Fanny Crosby and I love the tune and I love the song. I stand by my choice.

92 - For the Beauty of the Earth (Pierpoint)

211 - O Come, O Come Emmanuel (15th Century French) - I am an Easter woman, but is it really possible to list ten hymns from the UMH and not include an Advent hymn?

So what are yours? If you are non-United Methodist, your own denominational hymnal will work... even though it won't be nearly as much fun...