Anyway, The magazine dealt with all ranges of sexual sin such as porn, adultery and homosexuality. What I was so upset at is that they drew a line in the sand without considering that there are very many people who are also just as well educated and biblically learned who disagree with Group’s interpretation of scripture.

After having a phone conversation with Rick Lawrence, chief editor of Group Magazine, I decided to continue my relationship with Group and Simply Youth Ministry because I realized that our differences didn’t get in the way of our purpose: partnering together to love and serve Christ by loving and serving youth and their families. Instead of walking away, I wrote the following letter that was graciously published in their latest issue:

Matthew 11:20-24. This is the Gospel reading that was read during the Eucharist I attended after reading the latest issue of Group Magazine. And it couldn’t have come to me in a more timely or appropriate manner. Though I appreciated most of the articles regarding sexual sin such as the ones dedicated to porn, adultery, etc., I get greatly agitated when people claim that being gay or lesbian is sinful.

I understand that Group’s goal was to address the need for youth workers to better minister to these groups of youth. But our motivation in ministering to GLBT youth shouldn’t be to only share the love of God with them in hopes to cure them from their “sinful sexual identity”. Unlike alcoholism, homosexuality isn’t a disease that one can choose to overcome. Yes, many GLBT individuals choose to live as their heterosexual counterparts do by living promiscuously, having sex outside of marriage, and not respecting God’s holy gift of sex as the ultimate way of consummating love. However, when two same-sex people have decided that they love God, love each other, and want to live together for the rest of their lives, how, then, can we judge that as an abomination or perversion? Seriously? We are calling what is rooted in love, abomination? I get that the Old Testament and the ancients of the church spoke out vehemently against sexual deviance. Even today, most people will agree that the debauchery aforementioned has to do with lust, dominance, and greed. Orgies were and remain to be vile. The few New Testament verses regarding sexual perversion are also addressing unnatural acts of erotic fornication. In no way should we consider these verses to be relevant to determining sexual identity; that’s like comparing apples to oranges. 

Matthew 11:20-24 warns us, the churched, that His Truth is bigger than our often misconceived interpretation of what is right and what is wrong. And one thing I know for sure is that God’s Truth is rooted in love. Why, then, would we try to snuff the light out of our GLBT friends’ lives by judging them and determining them to be “abomination”? You know what is abominable? Something unworthy of love or incapable of loving. And if our hearts have hardened so much that we can’t recognize love when we see it, then friends, we’ve got bigger problems then trying to convert a homosexual!

Group’s goal wasn’t to start the debate. The debate’s been raging, and I doubt that many won’t change their opinions just by reading someone else’s point of view. Group’s goal was to open up the dialog. And since the dialog has started, I’m in.

I’m starting my own consulting business while I still look for a job that provides benefits.

I’m calling it Moving the Spirit Advocates (or MTS Advocates for short). I’ve bought the domain names, I’ve created a blog (check it out at www.movingthespirit.wordpress.com), and I’m praying hard.

Anyway, from my first impression, NYC (or at least Manhattan) doesn’t have a fraction of the abandoned buildings that Philadelphia has. And I heard many people say over the course of the month we’ve been living here that if you can’t do something in New York, then you can’t do it any where.

Apparently, the Bill (Intro 48) was sponsored in 2006, but it has stalled. I really don’t get it. I can’t fathom why anybody would object to pushing this bill through. What’s the big deal with the owner of said building or lot to report that it’s abandoned? I think the money-mongers feel threatened that we may come in and steal their property. But let me assure you, that’s not what my plan is.

What I want to help people understand is that abandoned buildings aren’t just empty, sitting buildings. Many abandoned buildings have been sitting for more than 10 years. And what happens to many of these buildings? Not only are they allowed to deteriorate and bring down the value of the properties in the neighborhood, but they actually are a huge liability.

Much of the homeless population are homeless simply because they have mental health issues or have major addiction problems (and let’s not forget the the other portion of people who are just down on their luck and who could simply use a bit of help). Many abandoned buildings serve as squatting dens to help perpetuate addiction and homelessness. And what happens when drug dens move into a neighborhood? Crime, violence, poverty, decrease in property values, and the cycle continues. Abandoned buildings help shelter the addict, thus perpetuating homelessness.

If we are able to rehabilitate buildings, not only would the homeless benefit, but the entire neighborhood would benefit. Crime rates would decrease, property values would increase, and hopefully, with the proper plan in place, we could help homeless find jobs and help addicts get clean and healthy.

When will the banks who hold the property notes begin to realize that nobody is winning while they squander their right to do nothing? I understand that it’s complicated. But, darn it, let’s work together. I’ve figured out a way that everybody wins…even the owner of the property. Now all I need is the right vehicle in which to put my ideas to work. It’ll happen…

My ultimate goal is to help the homeless realize that they shouldn’t be victims, but survivors!

As you may be well aware, Mike, the kids, and I have moved to NYC so Mike can attend seminary to become an ordained priest in the Episcopal Church. We left our house and will be renting it out beginning this October. The kids have started school; Talie (5th grade) and Kay (Kindergarten) are attending the top ranked Public School in all of NYC, and Peyton is attending a full-day Pre-K program at the Guardian Angel School–the local catholic school. Both schools are within a block and a half from our apartment which is located directly across the very lightly traveled street from the campus. We are all adjusting rather well, I think.

I just wanted to share with you something that struck me as pretty cool. The background: Mike grew up in the Methodist Church. And I’m not knocking any denomination by saying this, but most churches aren’t as liturgically rich as the Episcopal Church. I, on the other hand, was raised Episcopalian. In fact, my grandfather was an Episcopal priest. I was also raised with the “smells and bells” of a very high-church Episcopal parish. Since Messiah (our home church and sponsoring parish) is pretty low to medium-church, Mike was never really exposed to people crossing themselves, let alone bowing or genuflecting. Sure, a handful of parishioners at Messiah will cross themselves, but it wasn’t the norm. When we visited General, I knew that the chapel practiced a much higher form of worship than what Mike was used to. I wondered how he was going to feel about that style of worship.

Thus, I finally get to the topic at hand: Becoming Holy. Though all brothers and sisters in Christ are called to be holy, I’m struck with the reality that becoming holy is a process. One just isn’t ordinary one day, and then completely holy the next. Or maybe they are. Of course, through God and consecration, anything can become holy instantaneously. Let’s not read too much into where I’m trying to go with this. Maybe with the following illustration, you may begin to understand my point…

It was the third service Mike and I attended in the Chapel together. However, Mike had been to all the morning prayer services that I had the luxury of sleeping through cause the kids were still in bed. He had been to a number of services I hadn’t been. Now, I’ve always crossed myself. Again, I was raised smells and bells. I have a pretty good grasp on what transsubstantiation and consubstantiation are. So, you must imagine how shocked I was when, out of the corner of my eye, I see Mike crossing himself at the end of the prayer. I nearly fell over when he formed the cross over his forehead, lips, and heart before the Gospel was read. Then it hit me: My husband is becoming holy.

He’s learning the whys behind such gestures. He’s not just going with the flow and performing the obligatory, “When in Rome.” He’s becoming apart of something. And it’s something communal. It’s profound, really. I’m not going to try to pick it apart. I’m just gonna let it be with this sentiment. It’s really an amazing thing watching such a transformation take place. And it’s an honor seeing my husband becoming the man God wants him to be.

I can honestly say that today was the worst day since I completed my IV treatments. If the sermon wasn’t really awesome today, I probably would’ve fallen asleep. Yeah. At 10:15 a.m.. Like, I could’ve curled up on the pew and probably would’ve woken the dead in the cemetery had I had the opportunity. I’ve felt pretty crappy all day, actually.

Here are two factors that I think may contribute. First, I forgot to take my oral steroids last night. Maybe that has something to do with my all-of-a-sudden lack of energy. Secondly, I haven’t taken my Mona Vie in two days. I take an awesome drink every morning loaded with anti-oxidants from the acai berry. It really seems to be giving me a huge boost. Or, maybe it’s a combination of missing both. Regardless, I feel anemic. I think i’ve tried to do too much, too soon after dealing with all of this. So, time to slow down.

I do have to say that emotionally, I haven’t been great, either. The fact that I’ve gained so much weight (not all due to the steroids…I’ve gained weight since last summer prior to my steroids) isn’t helping me psychologically. Gosh, I don’t even want to think about putting a bathing suit on. I’d be lucky if my right thigh can fit into the waste of last summer’s suit. It’s the medicine, though, that’s also contributing to my glum state of mind. I’ve actually cried twice today, both times, so out of character…I’m not a “feeler.” So that’s annoying!

I did receive a nice surprise, though, that really helped. My church has a prayer shawl ministry, and I was presented with a beautiful shaw that I will cherish for the rest of my life. Not only did someone take the time to make it for me, but I know that many of her prayers have been answered already: I’m getting better. The gesture was very meaningful to me.

Tomorrow is going to be a dull day. It must be. I’m going to remember to take my oral medication and I’m gonna take a nap; just for the heck of it, because I can. Meanwhile, for my friends who are also dealing with their own set of MS circumstances, I will pray that you all are listening to your bodies and that you are taking the times out your body needs. Now, just to follow my own advice…til next time.

Now to prepare for the emotional roller coaster ride coming off the steroids. The last time I went through the treatment, I remembered thinking that the MS symptoms were almost worth dealing with rather than putting up with the calamity from the steroids. I’m not looking forward to it, but at least it wasn’t all for naught.

Since I’m writing about this experience, I thought I’d back up and give a little background information regarding the course of my disease. Since I don’t let MS run my life, many people logged into Facebook, saw my note, and were blindsided since they hadn’t known I have been fighting this since 2003. I need to explain:

I don’t like stigmas. I rarely mention the fact that I have MS because people have pre-conceived notions. When the fact that I have MS does come up in conversation, it sometimes gets awkward. Not because I’m not willing to talk about it. I’m not embarrassed. I don’t mind explaining the situations I’ve faced or the complications that many people I know deal with. Many times, though, I meet people who think they know what’s best for me, even though they don’t know me from Adam. Some people know others who have MS and judge me based upon their friends’ situations. And that’s what upsets me. The stigma. I don’t like people feeling like I’m incapable of something just because I have MS. I don’t like being told that I should “take it easy” when I’m pretty certain that the last time I checked, I was a responsible adult and mother of three who would never risk her own health just for kicks and giggles if I wasn’t up to it. So, sorry if I caught any one off guard. I don’t feel uncomfortable disclosing things, but I normally don’t bring it up unless there is a reason for it.

So, with that out of the way, I am feeling a bit positive. I have amazing friends and family who have left awesome notes of  encouragement. Thanks everyone for sharing their words of advice and keeping me in your prayers.

If you pray, I ask that you pray that God gives me the ability to deal with my everyday routines with grace. I can feel my outlook getting a little bleaker everyday. I know the next month is going to be an emotional nightmare. I guess it makes it a little easier knowing that it’s coming. But it’s not easy knowing that I’m gonna bite my kids heads off for no good reason. It’s hard to accept that I’m guaranteed to be an overly -critical, moody wife toward my husband. I could use as many prayers as I can get. Pray for my family that they have patience with me when I lose mine. Lastly, praise God that at least my symptoms were handled with this latest treatment.

Everyone with MS has a different set of circumstances. But we all have one thing in common: uncertainty. When we wake up with unexpected debilitating symptoms, we are all uncertain if we will recover or if it’s something we will have to deal with forever. We are uncertain if the treatments the doctors put us through will ultimately work or if the treatments will be made in vain. Regardless, we know that we are not alone.

I thought I’d blog, not for a pity party, but just so people can understand this disease better. Heck, I still don’t get it, so I thought this blogging exercise might serve as some sort of therapeutic measure. It may help me emotionally, anyway. We shall see. I think I’m going to enter a post everyday so those of you who’d like to follow my progress are welcome to.

It all started the evening of Jun 9th while some of us were celebrating Petotn’s 4th birthday. We were at dinner, I got a sudden wave of nausea, and before I knew it, I was puking my guts out in a public restroom. Note to the wise: avoid this at all costs!!! I think I much preferred the ride home puking on the side of the road every few miles. It was a bit more quaint. lol.

Anyway, I went to bed and woke up the next morning with balance problems. I thought this is what vertigo is. I figured it was just a part of the virus I was fighting. Well, as the day progressed, my nausea kicked in again, and I was forced to call the doctor for some relief. I saw her, and she gave me one of those awesome nausea shots (definitely get that in the rear…I was too sick to bare my arse, so the nurse gave it to me in the arm. Not pleasant. Actually much more painful than even a tetanus shot. Live and learn). She also told me to get meclizine (Anti-vertigo medicine) and gave me pills for nausea. My nausea went away completely. My balance problems persisted; the meclizine didn’t do a thing. Well, the next day I realized I wasn’t “dizzy” like the average vertigo patient is; rather, I was unbalanced. The world wasn’ spinning. I just felt drunk. The reality of the matter hit me: the virus I had probably exacerbated my MS, and I am dealing with an MS-related problem.

Since I can no longer see my Penn neurologist without a referral from my GP, I was forced to go through the emergency room at Lehigh. They confirmed that I was definitely experiencing MS symptoms. My double-vision confirmed that. They hooked me up to to an I V drip, arranged for a visiting nurse team to visit me for two days over the weekend, and sent me on my merry way.

The last time I required IVs, my symptoms markedly improved before my three day regimen was complete. I’m sitting here scared for myself that this go-around won’t be so easy. I think I’m getting worse, not better. Yeah, it’s only been one day. It hasn’t even been a full 24-hours since my first treatment, but my vision is getting a lot worse.

It’s four o’clock in the morning. I can’t sleep, and I can’t read. I can barely type, but at least my fingers still work. Pray with me that things improve drastically. I can’t even drive like this. So far, I’m holding up. Now, a week from now when I come crashing off the meds, I’m sure I’ll have a lot of colorful thoughts and stories for you. We’ll see.

My next step is to make it through the weekend and the rest of my treatments, and get my butt in to see a new MS doc at Lehigh: It’s a lot closer for me than Penn, so I think I’m gonna work with two neurologists to see me through this. I’m probably going to need another MRI since I haven’t had one in two years (I’m supposed to have one every year). I’m sure they will tell me if I need more steroids (some people get 5-7 days of treatment), but I’m praying they’ll just tell me I need to be patient and wait, and everything will be fine. Actually, I don’t pray they’ll tell me that, I pray that what they tell me is true. It’s one big waiting game. And I’m not sure I like playing.

When I posted my last post, I didn’t realize the full magnitude of my actions. Nor did I intend to make anyone feel ill-will toward anyone who had a hand in my leaving the church I served. I’ve considered removing the post entirely, but I’m afraid if I do, what I may have already inadvertently put into motion will simply be perpetuated or exaggerated through speculation or misunderstanding.

What happened at the church was unfortunate for all. In my hurt, confused state of mind, I neglected to communicate the sorrow the pastors I worked with must’ve felt during all of this. I neglected to give them a voice in my ranting. Are they happy I left? I’m pretty certain they are not. Do they feel satisfied with the way things transpired? I’m positive they are not. Have they acknowledged that things could’ve been handled differently? I’m pretty sure they have.

So, instead of re-analizing what I should have or shouldn’t have written in my first post, I think I need to proceed with what I know. For my sins against my fellow ministers, I hope that the following may serve as repentance. I also pray that through all of this, we all may grow in Christ. For my sins against the innocent by-standers who happened to stumble across my rant (I guess stumble isn’t an accurate accounting, most people probably slammed into it), I hope that this gives you a shift in perspective. I also pray that God aids everyone in granting all parties the grace and mercy we all deserve! Most of all, I hope we can all help each other love and heal.

We all know we have our weaknesses. And I, rather ungraciously, pointed out some of the flaws my supervisors have. And here’s one thing I’ve ascertained: I recognize the fact that they were merely doing what they thought best at the time. They were trying to resolve an issue. Though I don’t agree with how things were fully handled, they were just trying their best. I’m hopeful that with better support from the personnel committee in the future, and maybe some good discussion on how to appropriately handle conflict in accordance with our biblical models, situations like this can be avoided.

A friend recently counseled me and said that it’s better to be angry than to be depressed. However, through all of this, I could never be fully mad at the pastors since their gifts and talents FAR outweighed their weaknesses. An aspect of the duration of my ministry could possibly be summed up as a few unfortunate circumstances and an accumulation of missed opportunities on everyone’s part. I shouldn’t fault them for my missed opportunities.

My prayer at this time is that this church simply acknowledges and strives to strengthen their weaknesses, learn from their mistakes, and graciously move ahead in the future to grow the Church. I pray that those I’ve offended can be compassionate toward me and understand that my rantings were not meant to hurt anyone, rather to simply provide a sense of closure for me.

I hope that everyone reading this can acknowledge the importance of supporting this church and its pastors through this time. I will reiterate my view that failure is simply an opportunity to learn and grow. And I’m positive that growth is inevitable. I’m confident that all involved have already started growing.

For the unfortunate youth who were subjected to my raw emotions, I apologize. I pray that you can overlook my grievances and remember that your church is a vehicle which you can utilize and grow to serve Christ and your neighbor. Be proud that you are a part of what makes this church special. Most of all, I hope you recognize, now, that even church elders aren’t above making mistakes. We are all human and possess skills and weaknesses. Even church leadership needs support. It’s the bravest among us who put faith in others. Only the bravest will put faith in others understanding that there will be a time that those we put our faith in will ultimately let us down one way or another. That’s the risk we believers take, knowing full well that we all fall short, to love one another despite our flaws. And isn’t that the model that Christ would have us live by? Loving one another? Be brave, and through this, love.

I wasn’t loving anyone but myself when I posted my previous post, and for that, I’m sorry. Forgive me. My intentions were never to hurt this church I devoted my time serving. I only want what’s best for everyone there.

For my first, ever, personal blog post, I thought I’d let myself be inspired by Semisonic’s song, Closing Time. They, of course, quoted Seneca, the Roman Philosopher who had much correspondence with the Apostle Paul. Since it’s finally 2010, I thought I’d evaluate 2009 and give myself some sort of closure.

Last year, 2009, was such a conflicted year for me. In some instances I can herald it as being one of my most successful years, professionally speaking. In other instances, it’s the worst year I’ve ever had to endure.

In the beginning of the year, I was solely focused on evaluating the first 9 months of my ministry at the church I was serving. I began full-time work as the youth director in April, 2008. Since the church I served consisted of over 1,800 congregants, much of the first year served as a learning year. I came out of the gates in 2009 with renewed vigor. I had observed and learned a lot; mainly, I learned that the program needed a new structure and a vision.

In the spring of 2009, I had a plan. With a lot of prayer and discernment, I formed a team of stellar individuals who complimented the team by possessing strengths in the areas I was weak. The small group worked together to establish our vision, re-structured the program, de-compartmentalized the many areas of the youth ministry that existed, and began work growing our volunteer base. The endeavor was a huge success. Don’t get me wrong. Of course there were areas that could use improvement. We didn’t “arrive,” but there were MANY improvements. Through the new structure, all areas of ministry were covered with truly-called leaders (as opposed to obligatory ones), I was being supported, leaders were equipped and informed, and best of all, kids were being championed and showing up more regularly. In addition, I learned a lot about myself. Because of the experiences I had in 2008, I began recognizing and improving upon my areas of weakness.

Due to the new formatting, our task force had a lot to do to prepare for the roll-out of the new face of youth ministry at the church. Much of my summer consisted of planning, recruiting, and advertising the new format. Of course, the usual summer Bible study, mission trip, Creation Festival, and the scattered pool party went on without a hitch while all the behind-the-scenes planning was taking place for the roll out of the new structure. It was rather strenuous and time-consuming.

The first phase of the roll out was to get the youth buy-in. We recognized that they had to own it and be a part of the organization, or it wouldn’t work. I was rather impressed by how quickly the students and their parents got on board with the plan. When the summer was over, most of our i’s were dotted, and our t’s were crossed.

Who knew that in the mean time, disaster was right around the corner.

Despite the great camaraderie our adult leadership team was enjoying, despite the fact that our attendance was more consistent, despite the fact that no balls were being dropped, despite the fact that parents were proactively complimentary with the way things were going, despite the fact that the students who weren’t involved before the revamping and the students that never went away in the first place were thrilled with the way things were going, despite the fact that the students were growing in their faith and excited about learning more about God, I was subjected to criticism. Of course I was…who isn’t?

Criticism. Something I’ve always encouraged. Objective criticism is something I actually welcome. For how can one truly grow as an individual or leader without learning ways to improve him or herself? I’ve always said (and claimed often to many on my leadership team) that failure is just an opportunity to learn and grow. I was always very transparent about my weaknesses and even worked with people to help myself overcome my challenges. And I must say that I was fortunate to have a few people who really challenged me, personally; they raised the bar of success. And I was hurtling that bar.

Unfortunately, though, not all people can handle criticism objectively. More unfortunate for me was the fact that I wasn’t afforded the luxury to make mistakes. Rather, the pastors I was working with clearly expected me to be perfect (and expected my four other predecessors in the span of 6 and a half years to be perfect, too).

I was criticized for making a decision (amongst a few other fluffy concerns with no bearing or merit) that involved allowing two teenage senior high girls while on our mission trip to work at a home of an old parishioner of our host church by doing light gardening without an adult chaperone. Now, I can fully understand why the parents’ of the girls could criticize me and have an issue with my judgement call. Had I been given the opportunity, I would’ve expressed my sincere apologies and communicated the fact that if I was ever faced with making a decision like that again, I would never allow any  youth to go anywhere without an adult present. The problem? I was never given that chance. In fact, the senior pastor never required the concerned parents to even talk to me about the matter at all. When I expressed my wish to speak with the parents, I was told that they don’t want to talk to me. What happened to Matthew 18? Triangulation was ruling in this situation.

What I needed was to have the opportunity to apologize and be forgiven. I didn’t get that chance. The funny thing is that, because a few people complained about me, over 100 youth and their families suffered…AGAIN. All because the pastors couldn’t shepherd a small portion of their flock who overreacted and became irrational. The proverbial shepherd’s hook is meant for correction. The pastors should have lovingly used that hook by expecting those parents to talk with me and the pastors together. This could’ve been resolved. The pastors chose to resolve by neglecting our Biblical model.

Because of the realization that I’d never be truly supported (gosh, if a youth were to have an accident under my supervision, I’d be crucified), I was forced to resign. Well, actually, I was fired, then un-fired after the personnel committee said they didn’t want me to leave. I had to make the decision. And it wasn’t an easy one since I loved my job and the youth and the families I served.

Oh, I forgot to mention that a week and half before all this went down, my grandmother (mom’s mom), to whom I was very close, unexpectedly died. Then, six weeks later to the day, my grandfather (dad’s dad) unexpectedly died.

So, though I’ve had some reasons to celebrate, I’ve had much reason to be sour. However, through all of this, I’ve remained faithful that God is with me. Ironically, because my tenure with the church I was serving came to an end, I’m free to focus on being a better wife and mother. I’m free to finally worship with my family more regularly (since Mike, my husband, was serving at a different church, we had to share the kids on Sundays and only worship together once every blue moon).

It’s closing time. And though I’m happy to put 2009 behind me, I can’t forget what I’ve learned. I’m thankful for the blessings that the church I served at bestowed upon me. I learned so much about myself and others. I had amazing opportunities to serve God. I also have the privilege of celebrating the life of my grandparents who had such a positive impact on my life.

And now it’s time for a new beginning. A chance to live a better life for God. A chance to serve God through being a better wife. A chance to serve God by being a better mom. A chance to serve God through possibly helping to create supplemental, contemplative worship experiences at my home church. A chance to seek opportunities to provide a humble income by serving God and my neighbors. What does that mean? I have no clue yet. One thing I’m positive of is God’s love for me and His wish that I serve Him in all that I am and all that I do.

Looking ahead, I’m uncertain of what God has in store for me, but I’m positive that it’s something big.

Here’s to a new beginning…