Change

Ben Franklin once said something along the lines of "the only things that are constant in life are death and taxes." I would like to add another constant: Change.

While it is true that we all die will eventually, and that taxes are inevitable, those two constants can be planned for, in some ways. We all know that tax day is April 15^th. We have all lost loved ones – whether it was a grandparent, a friend or a dog – so we know that death happens to everyone.

Change, however, often blindsides us, and occurs much more frequently. Actually when you think about it, change occurs daily, unless you are Bill Murray in Groundhog Day.

When David and I were called to open The Oasis Renewal Center we knew that our life would change. We were called to open a non-profit ministry, to open up our home and provide a peaceful, spiritual place where people could connect with God and connect with others. Sounds so simple!

And for the past year, it was...well, not simple; but at least manageable. We renovated the house in Sonoita; opened it up for retreats, hosted individuals and groups who needed the time and space to really connect and pray, all the while commuting from Scottsdale. Yes, it’s a 3-hour drive, but it’s a fairly easy drive. We expected to continue this pattern for the next few years at least.

Somehow, I thought that I wouldn’t have to change again. For some reason, I expected that the initial change brought on by opening The Oasis would be the last one! Or, if something had to change, it would occur much later, or be easier, or not completely disrupt my life. We humans are so naïve. We get comfortable, and expect everything to stay that way. Ha!

So, all that to say, David and I will be moving to Sonoita in the next month to live and work full-time at The Oasis. That's a huge change for us, but we know that's where God wants us to be. After all, both of us are called by God to this ministry. It’s a joint endeavor; and we are a team, which makes both of us feel much more settled about the whole thing.

However, it still is not an easy transition. We have lived in our house in Scottsdale for almost 11 years. We literally got married in this house! Our children grew up in this house.  And while it is just a house, it is also a container of memories, and has been a welcoming haven for our family, friends and others who crossed our path. It’s difficult to let go of that.

This move also means we have to down-size. Considerably. It’s amazing how much stuff you can amass in a mere 11 years.  For me at least, this down-sizing is very difficult emotionally. What do I take to the new house, and what do I give away or put in storage?

For instance, yesterday I sat in front of the kitchen cabinet looking at all of the china we have. No one needs three sets of china. But, I can’t bear to part with my grandmother’s china, or my great-aunt’s china, or even my own china!  On the other hand, I don’t see myself using any china in the near future! OK. So the china goes in storage.

One problem down, nine hundred and eighteen to go!

How do you deal with change? Do you go with the flow, accepting change as part of life? Or do you stubbornly dig in, hoping everything stays as it is, and complain when it doesn't? Do you let yourself grieve over changes that result in loss? Do you talk with God how you feel about changes in your life?

We're moving!!

Don't fret. We're moving, but only to another website.

Observations From The Oasis will now appear on The Oasis Renewal Center's website! Visit us here.

Confessions

They say that confession is good for the soul. (I have no idea who "they" are, but they are probably correct in this case.) And, of course, James the brother of Jesus, said "Confess your sins to one another and pray for each other."

What I am about to confess is not really sinful. Or, at least I haven't found a prohibitive verse in the Bible, specifically referring to my own situation. So here goes:

I AM AN ENIGMA!

There. I said it. Whew, I feel better already!

You may be thinking, "OK...so?"

Well, this enigmatic thing has bothered me for some time. You see, I was an English Literature major in college. I went on to earn a Master's degree and I am a Pastor in the RCA. There are, shall we say, certain expectations and assumptions about people like me. And I don't think I live up to those expectations.

And so, I hereby confess that:


I read Stephen King novels.

• I have never read Moby Dick. Or Tristram Shandy. Or Robinson Crusoe.
• I detest Charles Dickens. Describing a mud puddle with just two run-on sentences that go on for three pages is not good writing, it's showing off.
• I found Jane Austen's books to be silly. I didn't like the characters. Not even Mr. Darcy.
• Don't even get me started on the Left Behind series...
• For the record, I loved the Harry Potter series. All seven books. J.K. Rowling is a genius.

I watch The Walking Dead, Doctor Who and The Following.

• I couldn't sit through 5 minutes of The Bible mini-series. The book is far better.
• I don't like musicals. I have never watched Glee.
• I don't understand the appeal of most sit-coms or reality shows.

I listen to Rammstein, and other Industrial-type rock. Sometimes I listen to other genres, but:

• I have no idea who the latest Christian artists or rappers are.
• I have never heard a song by Ke$ha, One Direction, or Wiz Khalifa that I'm aware of.
• I don't listen to the radio in the car (or anywhere else) so I don't know which station is K-LOVE.

I love Ice Hockey! Even the on-ice fights.

• Baseball bores me to tears.
• I don't understand American football.

I have a warped sense of humor.

• My favorite movies are Dodgeball, Shaun of the Dead, and anything by Monty Python.
• I think Eddie Izzard is brilliant.

I realize that putting all of this out there is just asking for backlash. I mean, a Pastor who admits enjoying violent TV shows and sports? An English major who reads horror novels? What's with her obsession with loud music, and the Un-Dead? What do you mean baseball is boring?? What on earth is she thinking?

I simply want to admit being an enigma; a puzzle; a complicated being who cannot be stereo-typed. I am an enigma, and I'm proud! I think that secretly, we all are.

Wearing the collar and saving the bow

This past weekend I was Ordained.

My kids asked me what this means, and if they have to call me "Father Mom."

It means that I am now - officially - a Minister of Word and Sacrament in the Reformed Church in America.

It means I can be called Reverend. (not Father Mom)

It means I can wear the collar and the stole.

It means I can put a "Clergy" placard on my dashboard and park a little closer to the hospital entrance, if I need to.

It means I can be called upon to pray in public, or at the dinner table. Not that I haven't been before, but now I'm expected to say "Of course!" and launch into an impressive and theologically-sound missive thanking God for pizza.

More importantly to me, Ordination means that the calling I heard from God so clearly when I was 13, has been validated by the church. It means that I publicly promised to live for Christ; to love God and to love people. It means that everything I have undertaken and accomplished over the past 10 years or so (Seminary, Clinical Pastoral Education, internships, post-graduate courses, etc.) was recognized by the church. It means that everything has changed. It also means that nothing has changed.

When I was a kid, every time we unwrapped a gift, my mother would say "Save the bow!" She was big on reusing things. But sometimes she would put aside the bow in order to remember the occasion.

My ordination is the Bow on the Gift that God has given me - the Gift of a call to ministry. 

I'm so thankful for that gift. And I will save the bow.