Morning Devotions

It's cold. I pick out my clothes and decide what to eat for breakfast while I try to work up the courage to get out of bed. Winter is here and snow is expected tomorrow.

I cried when they presented me with the quilt, surprised and honored. It's a masterpiece and too perfect to risk spilling on or snagging a thread. I carefully wrapped and tucked the gift in my trunk before leaving internship and Arizona in August. This week it made its first Minnesota appearance. It would stay in mint condition bagged and in the closet, but it is meant for greater things.

It is cold and this weather makes me sentimental. From the minute I saw the quilt, it felt like an heirloom I'd always known. The yellow looks like my great-grandmother's writing desk and the gold like Christmas ornaments from my childhood.

I spread the quilt out over my down comforter and crawled underneath, studying it carefully. Each square tells a story from the bible. If you look closely you can see palm branches and stars and grains of wheat. I traced my fingers over the patterns and marveled at the handiwork.

I woke up toasty warm this morning, but I still loitered for a moment before climbing out into winter. I read the quilt, remembered the scripture and thanked God for the hands that sewed the story that tucks me in.

Awake to What Is Happening

Last year I participated in the second year of Luther’s Contextual Leadership Initiative(CLI)—which is a great way to field test what we are learning as seminarians. One aspect of CLI is monthly cluster meetings with other Luther students and the pastors from our contextual education congregations. In our monthly meetings we explored testimony, generosity, building community, hospitality and worship as ways in which we practice our faith.

The practice of prayer was the focus of one of the monthly cluster meetings. We focused on Luke 1:46-56 and as part of the accompanying reading we considered a quote from Marcina Wiederkehr’s, “The Song of the Seed: The Monastic Way of Tending the Soul.” I have the full quote posted on my desk. Heading into the final weeks of this semester and on the verge of advent these words from Wiederkehr jump off the page:
“When I do not trust…I do not allow myself to be a channel for the divine life. God uses me for a channel anyway, but it would be so much more delightful if I could live awake to what is happening in this divine exchange.”

It is not easy for busy seminarians to remain awake to what is happening. Any delight remaining in the last few weeks of courses could be supplanted by a wanting to just get the semester over. Or the joy and anticipation of advent could give way to obsessing over holiday preparations. UNLESS we can hold on and, as Wiederkehr advises, “trust the God who wants to companion.”

My prayer this day for myself and my peers is that we are awake to what is happening in and around us.

My return to the Peace Lutheran Church pulpit

When Jesus returned to preach in his hometown of Nazareth, people tried to throw him off a cliff—proof of Jesus' assertion that no prophet is accepted in the prophet's hometown.

On Wednesday night, I preached my first sermon at my home church since starting at Luther Seminary, and judging from all the smiles, handshakes and compliments people gave me, I'm apparently not a prophet. But even without any inaugural attempt on my life, by cliff-throw or otherwise, it was easily one of the greatest experiences I've ever had.

It technically wasn't my first sermon at my home congrgegation, Peace Lutheran Church in Green Bay, Wis. As a junior in high school, I "preached" on Thanksgiving Eve 1997 to share my thankfulness to God after surviving a nearly fatal allergic reaction on the previous Thanksgiving Eve in 1996. Wednesday's Thanksgiving Eve service marked the 10th anniversary of that first sermon, and my dad (the pastor at my home church) said I could preach again.

This time, I actually preached on a Gospel text, Jesus' healing of the 10 lepers in Luke 17:11-19. And given that the text involved a Samaritan leper returning to Jesus in thanks, I took the opportunity of my return to the pulpit to thank the people at Peace. For one thing, their financial support and prayers since I decided two years ago to attend seminary have been crucial for Tracy and me. And it was largely because of the encouragement that they gave me after my sermon 10 years ago that I eventually realized that God was calling me to be a pastor.

That call came through no one more clearly or persistently than Ken Jensen, a gifted salesman and the chairman of the call committee that brought my dad to Peace in 1988. Ken told me many times, even after I had settled on a career as a newspaper reporter, that I would make a great pastor, and I don't think I would have ever decided to pursue ordained ministry without him. I was so excited to have him cheering me on again on Wednesday night that I had to get a photo with him after the service.

It was a real honor to be in the presence of so many people who have supported me for a long time and to be able to thank them and serve them in this little way. It was also exciting to greet many people I didn't know—folks who have joined the church in recent years and people who were visiting. The compliments from so many people meant a lot, particularly since I felt like I could have done a better job preparing my sermon. I spent a ton of time on it since I really wanted it to be good, but, as usual, I was working on it right down to the wire. Based on their reaction, I think I did my job as a preacher to deliver the good news of Jesus Christ to these people. (The only criticism I heard all night was about my beard.)

The real highlight for me ended up being the children's sermon, in which I told an overwhelming number of polite, wide-eyed girls and boys about my thankfulness after surviving that allergic reaction 11 years ago, before virtually any of them were born. Recounting that and explaining how it had led me to wear the shirt with the funny collar that night, I was continually on the verge of tears.

Getting to wear that collar alongside my dad for the first time was another indescribable honor. I felt so proud as we faced the altar and processed to the back of the sanctuary together during the last hymn. Making it extra special was the presence of many other family members, including my Grandpa Don, who recently had his own survival story, and my Uncle Mark, the other pastor in my family and another person who factored greatly into my call to ordained ministry. That's my dad, my Uncle Mark and me in the photo at the top of this entry. I think I'm going to get that photo framed.

...Things about Living in Luther Family Housing

I really enjoy living in Burntvedt Court, one of three on-campus housing options for families of various configurations. The rent is competitive, the staff have always been quite quick in responding to various maintenance needs, from the mundane (kitchen sink plug) to the pertinent (non-functioning furnace) and doing so in a courteous, professional manner. My family enjoys having other families around with which to share meals, share babysitting, and provide a massive duty-free video exchange club. The commute is impossible to beat (to campus in 3 minutes by bike, 6 by foot, 7 by scooter, 12 by crab-walk) and who could complain (for those who have kids) about having a massive yard and giant play structure within feet of your door?

However, one thing related to living on campus has become a regular point of discussion lately among those who live here, security. Just this past week I’ve had two separate conversations with my co-tenants in which they expressed feelings of anger, resentment, and frustration about the experience of our campus being a regular target of theft and vandalism. The parking lot is poorly lit, the campus is quite near to one of the nation’s largest thoroughfares (I-35), and the nighttime security staff is non-professional. These and other factors may contribute to the fact that this semester there have been several cases of auto theft, vandalism, and even two incidents of stolen catalytic converters (apparently the scrapping of metals is increasingly lucrative). Muggings occur infrequently, if you consider a couple times a year infrequent (which I do). The student council has issued a statement about its plans to work toward improving this on behalf of students and it is reasonable to assume that the administration, to some degree, is concerned as well.

There is no other place I’d rather be than Luther Seminary. I’ve lived in a half dozen places, and in terms of security some were better (Iowa suburban youth where the worst crime was smashed pumpkins on November 1^st) and some were far worse (Liverpool neighborhood where every third house was boarded up and the ashes of burned, stolen cars used for joy rides were an every day reality). I’m well aware no place is “secure,” nor do I demand that the responsibility for it is any others than mine (and ours) and therefore I will continue living in and enjoying Burntvedt Court. But it is something one can consider when discerning both a choice of seminary and living arrangement. If you come for a visit, I’m confident staff and students would welcome a conversation about their experience, surely covering a wide range of perspectives.

1+1=6

Matt and I crawled in the back seat of my parents' car this afternoon and headed North to Matt's hometown. It was time for the six of us to feast together and celebrate this wedding in the works.

His mother and father greeted us at the door with the same eager smiles I've known and loved for almost four years. The mothers scurried into the kitchen to talk about mother-of-the-bride/groom dresses while slicing fruit for salads. The fathers looked out over the lake and spoke of the freezing trends in past years. The house was warm with history and talk of the future. Matt and I smiled, watching and listening.

Over a meal fit for royalty we spoke of simple things - the weather, my fear of mascots, Matt's coke bottle eyeglasses from childhood - but also the deeper words that make a family. There was gratefulness and laughter and teasing and joyful, misty eyes. We prayed and shared and listened and reminisced.

This week we will each spend Thanksgiving with our own families, but those lines will soon blur. Next summer we will learn the dance of belonging to four extended families while creating our own family and future. For these things and more, I am thankful.

My Saturday

Three of my favorite things collided yesterday. Four, if you count the beginning of Thanksgiving break.

The Light Rail. If you live in the Twin Cities and you've never used the light rail, you're silly. Actually, I'm silly. I used to drive Old 55 on my way to high school before construction began in the late 90s and would bring the protesters in trees bag lunches. I worried about the trees that would fall and the history we would lose in Minneapolis. Maybe I'm a total hypocrite, but ten years later, I love taking the light rail downtown. Sometimes I run into familiar

faces or meet people I'd never have otherwise known. The train adds a new dynamic to the city and our future. I miss those old trees, but when I look out the train windows, I see the new ones they planted growing stronger every year. I am thankful for those who put up a fight for the park its sacred story.

The Boarder Battle. The Minnesota Gophers played the Wisconsin Badgers at the Metrodome. I was conflicted - daughter of a Madison man, but bred Minnesotan - and hid my red t-shirt under a Gophers sweatshirt all day long. There is love for both teams, but loyalty was shown to the Gophers, a touchdown behind all day long. The fans were scattered and the Midwest Nice Trash Talk was abundant.

Finely Crafted Nachos. Not the really yellow chips you buy in a bag from Sam's Club, but the crisp chips warmed in the oven before being drizzled with chicken, black beans, salsa, sour cream, cheese and guac. It is an art form and I, my friends, am a gifted connoisseur. I found this perfect platter at Sneaky Pete's.

Happy Thanksgiving Break! I hope you collide with some of your favorite things this week, too.

"And your plate will be filled to overflowing..." Acts 31:12

This week is Thanksgiving and things at Luther aren't that different from other places. Many of us will travel somewhere to be with family or friends. Some of us will stay here and have a small gathering of family or classmates in our apartments or dorms. Some of us are taking the opportunity to give back by serving at community meals. Some of us will spend our brains out the following day. Many seniors will be filling out ELCA candidacy paperwork that contributes to their near future in big ways (i.e. regional/synodical preferences for first call).

Pretty near all of us give thanks to God that we have this week off. It's a great chance to catch our breath and either catch up on classwork we've fallen behind on, or to get ahead with papers and reading that will soon be making its demands upon us. After the break, there are three short weeks until the end of the semester so this is a great period of reprieve before the final sprint.

My wife, Natalie, and Toby and I are waiting for his sister to make her arrival. She is "due" today and yet shows no signs of leaving her cozy, womb-enshrouded, placenta munching, cervical-plug-keeping-out-the-as-yet-unknown-and-frightening-world. We already give thanks for her and the great support we have here at seminary in the form of friends, co-workers, and numerous professors who have offered to babysit at our very whim (thanks Dr. Throntveit!). Even still, we'll cook hormone-infused turkey, yams baked in herbicidal goodness and thank God that we haven't yet gotten some form of cancer, and pray that female Julin-McCleary comes out screaming soon.

Efficiency Saves Me Time, or, Why I'm Glad I Don't Have to Write Several Emails When Just One Will Suffice!

Good Things About Luther Seminary Vol. IIVX

"Whether he went on with the diary, or whether he did not go on with it, made no difference. The Thought Police would get him just the same. He had committed--would still have committed, even if he had never set pen to paper--the essential crime that contained all others in itself. Thoughtcrime, they called it. Thoughtcrime was not a thing that could be concealed for ever. You might dodge successfully for a while, even for years, but sooner or later they were bound to get you."*

Lately I've been giving thanks for the Luther Seminary "Wireless and Student Network Communications Policy." Here at Luther we are not only blessed to have access to on-campus WiFi and a fast network connection (I'm told employing so-called fiber optics), but we have an email sharing network that increases my productivity and eases the stresses of having to talk to numerous people over the course of a week while being only one person myself. Under a section of the document I've retitled "Freed to Be, Yes, That's the Info for Me," the Seminary outlines an expectation I thankfully ought not to have, privacy that is:

"Users do not have an expectation of privacy or a personal privacy right in any matter created, received, sent, or stored on a Seminary electronic resource, whether or not the matter is designated as private or confidential. All data sent across our network and on to the Internet is not secure and can be monitored. Never send passwords or any account information through email or documents on the Internet."

The benefits of this policy include:

-Not having to email each of my professors when an absence is forthcoming since once I write of them, the school can pass on the information to the rest of my professors, the various Deans, and my mom, Sandy McCleary.

-If I share any thoughts over email that may question actions taken by the Luther Seminary administration, they can be made aware of that immediately and I can receive the duly deserved proper sauce when ordering a burger in the cafeteria.

-I can stop fearing that my candidacy committee might learn that I prefer to not use the eucharistic prayer during the Lord's Supper. That email I once sent to my friend Ben will surely get into their hands. Thanks Luther!

-Posting a picture of my new daughter as my desktop is a great way of letting everyone on the Luther staff and faculty know what she looks like.

-If my capstone paper is late, all my professor need do is get it herself. This cuts down on the unfortunate circumstances where a professor demands and excuse and the student stumbles to find one. Now days, sounds of "Get it yourself!" ring through the halls of Northwestern and Gullixson.


*Blair, Eric. The Complete Novels. Penguin Books, 1983: 753.

So this is that interim thing I've heard about

It's been three weeks since my last blog entry, and as if that weren't embarrassing enough, nothing especially remarkable has happened in all that time. Well, I did make it through midterms and even finished my songwriting project for my class on the book of Acts. And there was an announcement that there's going to be a new "X-Files" movie, which Tracy and I are both excited about. And I grew my beard back. And the Packers are somehow 8-1. So I guess some stuff has happened. But nothing earth-shaking enough for me to climb out of my pile of coursework and finally get back on the blogwagon.

There has been one pretty significant happening. Pastor Dick retired. Dick Carlson (that's him in the collar) has been my Teaching Parish supervisor and essentially our pastor since shortly after Tracy and I moved to the Twin Cities. I can't say he's my all-time favorite pastor since I'm kind of biased toward my dad, but he's pretty close. He retired on Reformation Sunday after 11 years at Galilee Evangelical Lutheran Church in Roseville, Minn., at age 70. He became a pastor relatively late in life, on the heels of a career with the YMCA, and proved that God can do great work through a pastor at any age.

I really miss him. And it's kind of a weird feeling because I've never had a pastor leave my church before — I had, after all, always gone with my dad. This is my first exposure to the ins and outs of the whole interim pastor and call committee experience, and it's probably a really good thing for me to see. Plus, it's challenging me and surely many others at Galilee to get more involved. Most notably, I agreed to teach the entire class of confirmation students (all six of them) last week and this week, whereas I normally work one-on-one with a student. I had forgotten that teaching more than one student at a time is actually a lot more difficult. I also did the children's sermon on Sunday and in short order had a preschooler trash-talking at me for bringing a Packers hat as an illustration. Sheesh.

Even in these little tasks in a small church, it's becoming clear how much a pastor does for a community. And things aren't quite the same without Pastor Dick's infectious friendliness and gentle leadership. But the interim pastor is starting this week, and the people seem to be pulling together really well. It's a pretty exciting process, and I'm looking forward to what's to come.

I'm also really looking forward to rubbing the 34-0 outcome of the Packers-Vikings game in that kid's face next Sunday.

Underdog When You Need Him

Okay, I may date myself by asking about the comic hero Underdog. I wonder how many of my fellow Luther Seminary students have ever seen this cartoon in which Underdog, the blue-caped pooch with a “U” in his chest, would arrive on the scene just in time to stop crime and save Sweet Polly Purebred. (You may check out an episode on YouTube at http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=X_-mMIClI14 )

Honestly, I can’t remember a single episode of Underdog but I remembered this afternoon something Underdog said as he arrived on the scene. He would confidently announce, “There is no need to fear, Underdog is here!”

Sometimes we need people in our lives who will tell us, with as much confidence as Underdog (cape optional), “there is no need to fear.” I had the opportunity to swoop in and offer words of reassurance to a pregnant young woman this weekend. Her mother is a good friend and asked me to offer a blessing at her daughters baby shower on Saturday afternoon. (No I did not wear a cape and I never mentioned Underdog.) I prayed about what to say in the blessing and offered the following:

God we thank you for Ce, this mother-to-be. Thank you for creating her in your image and for blessing her to become a mother.

We thank you for preparing her for motherhood. Quiet any doubts she may have about what the future holds. Help Ce to find assurance in the certainty of your presence—whether it is a late night when the baby seems inconsolable as she cuts her first tooth or as she takes her first steps or much later in life when she sends her off for her first day of college. Remind her that you are with us always.

God, help Ce to know that you offer particular gifts of wisdom, resourcefulness and extraordinary love to mothers such that with God’s gifts a mother can make an unassailable path for her child in the world.

We pray for continued good health for Ce and baby. We pray for all things to be in place for the baby’s arrival.

Thank you for allowing us to share in this special time in Ce’s life. AMEN

It was a privilege to bring to this young woman the good news that God will be with her as she takes on this new role. Of all the things I could have prayed it seemed best to share with her the simple message God is and will be with you.

THEN Sunday afternoon came and I found myself really needing reassurance. My reminder that I need not fear came from my wise older sister. She lives in Florida and because we talked over the phone I don’t know whether she was wearing a cape.

Where Do You Get Your News?

Five Valuable Life Lessons from the Sun Tabloid Magazine:

1. If your antique coffee table is haunted by a ghost and disrupting home life, moving the table to a warehouse or storage facility can remedy the problem.

2. Chocolate is better than fluoride at keeping your teeth healthy, so dash a little cocoa on your toothpaste.

3. Pam Anderson says her marriage to Kid Rock crumbled because they didn't "sit down and read books all night, which I love to do". It seems that story time is the key to a healthy marriage.

4. The end times are near. An angel appeared to Nostradamus in 1536 and warned him that America would be involved in a hopeless Middle East war and North Korea would pretend to abandon its nuclear weapons program. A female Antichrist would be revealed as Benazir Bhutto, who would join with bin Laden (who she had been hiding in her home for three years) to give the world over to Satan. (We can't blame Nostradamus for his inaction, though. He probably didn't know what America or nuclear weapons were and figured the vocal prediction of a female Antichrist could offend and dismantle the foundation of the church: women.)

5. Oh. And the world's first rocket belt is ready for take off.

Reparations Quietly Sought, or, Norwegian Lutherans won't always have access to the best butter in the dairy fridge!

This week at Luther many students are doing the work of thanksgiving two weeks early. They are writing thank you cards to the many donors who, through their charitable giving, help to fund various scholarships awarded to students at Luther Seminary. When this time comes around each, students are given the names and addresses of individuals who contributed to their scholarships and are given cards/envelopes by means of which the Seminary can connect donors and students, patrons and benefactors. Matters of finance play a big role in the lives of Luther's students and many are grateful for the support of the 'great cloud of witnesses' from around the country and globe.

Meanwhile, another financial campaign has begun to gather a head of proverbial steam. Irish American students have begun to develop a plan to be presented to the Seminary Board at it's spring meeting that would provide financial aid to qualified students in the form of reparations due on account of the decades-long-tyranny perpetrated upon the Emerald Isle and it's people by Nordic Vikings for the better part of a millenium, a millenium ago. One student, who refused to give a full name but asked to be identified only as Ian Ulin-Cleary said, "These vicious Norwegians around here have no idea what it's like to be a student here, to try and make a go of the vocation to which we're called with the significant financial disadvantages inherent in our inherited lack of inheritance." Another Irish Lutheran pointed out the significant advantages a Norwegian Lutheran student possesses when she relayed the story of walking to class one day. "Two blond 'bears' jumped out into my path and mauled me with criticisms while a group of St. Olaf grads shouted, 'Go on up you bald Irish head, Go on up you bald Irish head.'" Yet another Lutheran of Irish descent claimed no one will sit with her at lunch and she regularly endures taunts of both "Papist," and "Crude Sacramentarian Proddie!"

The above photo shows students gathering outside an unnamed downtown Minneapolis office building in order to discuss the plan of action. One spokesperson said that persons of any Gaelic descent would be welcome into the ranks of the plaintiffs, even those from "crummy Scotland."

Good Things about Luther Seminary Vol XXIVV

Trick or Treating, or, "Treat Treat!"

The latter was my son's refrain as we moved from building to building and knocked on door after door. Being wise to the social contract inherent in the former, Toby went round imploring neighbors to enjoy the treat that is little kids dressed up like animals, Sesame Street characters and various criminals (pirates, Freddie Krueger, bandits) while also giving him a treat. In this manner he cleverly employed two verb moods in one, the indicative and the imperative. We discussed this later on that evening over candy and bourbon when he was also eager to remark that Hannah's Supergirl costume was quite remarkable and "Treat Treating" would be even more efficient at Sandgren since all the doors are interior and there are fewer stairs. We vowed to begin our candy reclamations at Sandgren next time we had opportunity.

All in all it was a great night and yet another reason that living in family housing here at Luther can be a great experience.

Then we went and egged the stingy inhabitants of Burntvedt 159875C. "That'll teach you," Toby yelled as I looked on with pride.

"Ribbit"

I used to love Halloween, but I’ve been a party pooper for the past few years. My costumes were fun, goofy and creative for so many years, but I think I lost my pizzazz. Reformation Day and Visiting Bishop Day trumped Halloween until I left campus late afternoon.

I arrived home and parked outside my neighbors’ house. They have a beautiful porch where the kids play and read. The little boy always looks away shyly when I wave, but today he was anything but shy. Armed with his pumpkin bucket and masquerading as a frog he hopped up and down the porch. When I waved this time, he didn’t turn away. He looked right at me, emboldened, with a word: “Ribbit”.

I bought pounds of candy and drove down Summit Avenue toward Matt’s house where I planned to hand it out. The song on the radio, Van Morrison’s ‘Stranded’ suddenly seemed all too appropriate for my life.

I'm stranded at the edge of the world
It's a world I don't know
Got no where to go
Feels like I'm stranded

And I'm stranded between that ol' devil and the deep blue sea
And nobody's gonna tell me, tell me what, what time it is

Everyday, everyday, it's hustle, hustle time, hustle time
Everyday and every way, one more, one more mountain to climb

It's leaving me stranded
In my own little island
With my eyes open wide
But I'm feeling stranded

Every, every, everyday, it's hustle time
Every way, one more mountain to climb

I'm stranded between the devil and the deep blue sea
There ain't no where else to be
'Cept right here and I'm stranded

I smiled listening to these words as I rolled by the beautiful real estate and tiny Batmans and Elmos through thick evening traffic. His voice is relaxed and in sweet observance of his situation. And so I took a few blocks to ponder “my own little island”.

My life is full of in betweens: I don’t seem to want to dress up this year, but love the parade of children adorned. I’m engaged and planning a wedding but will still fill out my Assignment Forms A & B as “single”. I’m a senior, wedged between internship, approval and assignment, between questions and answers. I am so excited to graduate and be a pastor, but have no idea what next year holds for me. Geographic restriction approved or denied? Ordained or lay? Employment as a pastor or waitress?

I spend a lot of time telling myself that everything is going to be fine. I hear other people telling each other its going to be fine. We all know it will be, but when you’re stranded in these in between places, there’s plenty of time to wonder. But last night, validated by Van Morrison and inspired by the brave frog, there was a moment when I actually believed it with all my heart.