My Journey of Preaching

Mother's Day, May 12, 2013 was the day I preached my first sermon. 

I'll always remember coming off the stage and being exceptionally hot! I stood next to the Lead Pastor who patted me on the back and said, "Nice job, sheesh...you're burning up!" I literally had sweat dripping down my back. 

I had just transitioned out of my role as Children's Coordinator and was beginning as an Associate Pastor which included the opportunity to preach 2-3 times per year.

"Two or possibly three Sundays a year I get to preach!" I thought. "What an honor. What a blessing. What a gift."

It's strange how our perspectives change overtime.

I remained in my Associate Pastor role for over five years, delivering a total of 19 sermons.

I loved the process of studying for my sermon, of creating the slides, of crafting words and especially the experience of delivering it to a crowd of friends.

In 2018, I began pastoring within a new congregation - again for over five years. Within this time frame, I preached 14 times. 

With the second church came the challenge of balancing my full-time job as the Children & Families Pastor with the Sundays that I preached. At my previous church, my job entailed ministries to adults which kept me in the same sphere of the Sunday Service, so preaching wasn't quite as taxing as being the tandem preacher and Children's Pastor. At this new church, preaching included both my normal full-time responsibilities in addition to the extra time and energy to write and deliver a sermon. I love preaching so, of course, I eagerly jumped at every opportunity to preach that came my way.

Preaching, for me as a Children's Pastor, meant late night hours writing and creating. It meant recruiting a 'point-person' for Sunday so someone would lead in my absence. It meant setting up the kids area on Saturday to alleviate some of my job the next morning. It meant being the first to arrive on Sunday to turn on lights, heat, and unlock doors so that the kids area was ready to receive children when church began. It meant running back-and-forth between service design, prayer meetings, sound-checks and checking in with teachers and families as they arrived. It meant running upstairs to the supply closet and pulling out extra buttons for a craft the teacher wants to do before I ran back to the sanctuary, getting in just in time for the completion of the song before my sermon. Heart-pounding from my jog around campus, it was now time to preach.

I had to choose my shoes wisely on these days - I often found myself literally running behind the stage back-and-forth between the opening, worship, sermon, and benediction. It was crazy!  

Though I love preaching, I was also getting tired of the balancing act. Not just balancing of my time, but also my family. Most the sermon opportunities would be offered to me on holiday weekends - or weekends projected to be "quiet." My sacrifice of sleep and energy was one thing, but to have to prep a sermon on the weekend my out-of-town children would be home? 

It was getting harder and harder to see the opportunity to preach as a blessing. 

I remember one sermon I prepped on the Friday after Thanksgiving in my mother-in-law's closet in Carmel. It was the only place in the house that was quiet. While my family was bustling with games and fun downstairs, I was locked in a closet preparing a sermon for Sunday. This is a gift, right? 

When I stepped down from my job in June of this year, I knew I was potentially stepping away from one of the activities I loved to do the most - preach. The realization of my loss had already begun to sink-in months before as I was less and less invited to preach. I noticed the "better" I did my job, the less available I was to engage in adult conversations, attend the worship service, and be given opportunities to preach. It was a Catch-22 situation. To win was to lose. Perhaps I was simply in the wrong role to even have the desire to preach - but let's get real, I live in the Central Valley. Children's Ministry is one of the few positions available to women in our churches.

What's sad in this story is that no one seemed to notice when my voice was not included. No one noticed my exhaustion at the end of my Sundays on the days I preached. Some might argue that I didn't tell them it was too much. My fear, however, was that if I confessed that preaching was too much that one of the three possibilities would enfold:

1. I would no longer be asked to preach.

2. I would be told that my desire to preach was on me so I needed to suck it up. 

3. I would be told that my inability to do a full time job AND preach was an indicator of a woman's incapacity to preach.

I have always loved the preparing and preaching component of sermons - it was doing all of it and my full-time job that was getting wearisome. So instead, to prove a point and to keep preaching, I endured. I found I had no one to advocate for me to help me make this work better. Instead, the problem sat squarely on my shoulders and in my incapacity to do it all. 

News Flash: This is an unhealthy system!

My struggle for always feeling, "not enough" has come from these very much unrealistic expectations that have been put on me. I do not believe anyone can do what was expected of me. It is not a fault of mine, but a fault with the system.

While the youth pastor got to preach monthly, I needed to be content in my building, with my children, and with my own ministry. Was the problem with me and wanting too much? I was hired as the "Children and Families Pastor," after all. Why would I expect to be in church or asked to preach?  

That, my friends, is a hard pill to swallow. 

There's a discrepancy when a church has two full-time associate pastors and one preaches monthly and the other twice a year. "Yeah, but Connie, the youth pastor doesn't have responsibilities on a Sunday morning, so he has more time to devote to his sermon than you do." 

Answer: That's a systemic problem. Perhaps, there's a problem when one full-time pastor has free time and the other full-time pastor has too large of a load to be involved with the life of the church. 

I do not doubt the youth pastor (or other associates for that matter) have similar problems; I'm sure this is not my problem alone. But it also makes me wonder if this is why the typical associate pastor only lasts for 5-years. Is that just the norm, or could there be, perhaps, a different way? Could we navigate our churches differently in a way that anticipates our leaders to grow and grow with them?

Yesterday I got to preach again. 

I, honestly, wasn't sure if I'd ever get the chance to preach again after I left my place of employment, but Fresno Pacific University reached out and offered me a chance to speak for College Hour. 

I discovered that without a full-time job to attend to in addition to speaking, preparing a sermon was simple! My slides were in on Friday and then I had to wait....and wait....and wait for College Hour on Wednesday. I cannot express the strange peace and unhurried posture in which I found myself in the waiting on Monday and Tuesday. It was so very unlike me, and especially unlike how I normally functioned leading up to a sermon.

What I noticed this time was that I slept peacefully the night before (not my normal Saturday-night-before-my-sermon). My watch never notified me that my heart-rate soared and I didn't even feel nervous during my message. My pace was good - I didn't feel rushed like I was borrowing time and needed to wrap it up. There was this strange peace surrounding me. 

My topic was on "The Divine Cobbler," a bit of a play-on-words I got from my son when he had asked me if I knew anyone who can sew on his soul. He was actually referring to the sole of his tap shoe (ha!), but the idea of a soul-mender began forming deep within me. 

In my experience thus far with the Transforming Community, I've been praying that God would mend me back together: heart, mind, soul, and body. That my "doing for God" would extend out of my place of "being with God." 

I am realizing that the anxiety I felt when I preached in years past was due to an over-loaded plate and lack of support, as well as a busy, hurried spiritual life that made no room for resting in God. 

The "resting in God" piece I am doing well these days. I'm grateful for my growth but disappointed that my church couldn't grow with me. I find myself thinking different scenarios for ways things could have worked out, but know I need to let these fall to the ground and die. Thinking about the "what ifs" of life never works out well or does not lends itself to emotional health or spiritual vitality. 

At this point in my life, if someone where to tell me: "We so value your voice that we're going to allow you to preach two-three times a year." It feels more condescending than it does generous. 

We've got to do better. 

That bettering involves looking at our systems, our job descriptions, our relationships and noticing how they affect us - are they supportive or are they are diminishing? Are they laced with inequalities that we've become so accustomed to that we're blind to them? Within the church, are we handing out token opportunities to women, or actually creating spaces and ministries for women to thrive? We cannot give job descriptions designed for men to women and expect these jobs to work. Likewise, we cannot give women job descriptions that worked in the 80's and then be surprised when women feel unsupported. We need to be innovative in how we make space for all voices to be heard and thrive. We've GOT to get creative and we must move toward gift-based leadership positions over adhering to the straight-jacketed approach of job descriptions. Did both churches follow through with offering me a chance to speak twice a year? Yes. Did the churches create a place for my gifts to grow and flourish? No.

As I continue to wrestle with my own grief, I am also grateful for the healing that has come in my resting with Jesus. I also hope that, by God's grace, I can help create healthy solutions to systems that need to be reimagined because I know deep down that we can do better than this for the women and men who serve in our churches.

#equality

#untileverywomanisheard

The Practice of Gratefulness

I am an over-thinker. 

I'm the type of person who can sit in silence for hours considering a situation or topic and still not be able to make a decision. I have to consider every angle and every option before decision-making and even after all that consideration, may not be able to make a decision for fear of it being the 'wrong' decision. I've learned to put deadlines on my thinking and manage my over-processing tendencies, but I've also discovered a dark-side to my over-thinking. 

Especially these days when I tend to be alone more than ever before, I recognize the negative voices that begin to plant words and thoughts into my thinking. Without people around me to bounce my thoughts off, these negative ideas get mixed into my own thoughts and soon enough, I'm a mess of confusion and despair forgetting my belovedness while also beginning to see the world through glasses tainted with negativity and hopelessness.

I'm sure I'm not the only one who gets into this cycle!

One of the practices I have learned to help me combat this negative cycle is the practice of gratefulness. I know, I know, that sounds like a cheesy, "churchy" answer, but it really, truly works! 

Practicing gratitude opposes the voices that tells us, "no one cares," or "your life is horrible," or whatever other lie we're hearing. It also combats our woe-is-me outlook, reminding us of the many gifts and blessings bestowed to us each day. After two weeks of looking for reasons to be grateful, our brains will actually form new pathways and begin thinking differently! Our outlook on life will not begin despairingly, but will begin open to a day of possibilities, not expecting doom and gloom, but anticipating reminders of blessing and love notes of hope.

I recognize we are often in seasons when being thankful is hard. 

We go through times when the most we can do is just get out-of-bed. When we have experienced the loss of a loved one, are undergoing chemotherapy, or have lost our job, for example, we can quickly be pulled into a vacuum of despair. Our goal in these times is often survival. During these seasons we believe being thankful is a frivolous amenity gifted to others, but not to me. 

Telling someone in these places, "be grateful," feels like dousing a cut with lemon juice - it hurts! Please hear me say, I understand being in this place. In many ways, I am living in this season right now, which is why I need gratitude. 

Being grateful does not deny my current situation - it doesn't heal it or make it go away. It does, however, adjust my outlook, inspire my hope, and help me get through my difficult situation. 

Daily Examen

I like to pair my practice of gratitude with a practice called, "Daily Examen." The Daily Examen is often done in the evening and is a practice of considering our day, looking for places where we grew as people, places where we can now recognize God's activity but acknowledged we missed the invitation, and/or situations where we were reminded of God's presence and participation in our lives. This practice of reflecting on our day, how we missed it, where we blew it, where God showed up, and how I made decisions out of wholeness instead of gloom is a healing and healthy practice.

November Challenge

During the month of November, I'm challenging the people in my small group (and you as well!) to begin your day with the intention to keep your eyes opened (both our physical eyes and spiritual eyes) to something, someone, or a situation in which we can be thankful. 

I have done Thankfulness Journals before but I have to admit I was a bit of a cheater. I'd get busy for a week and then sit down and write out seven things/people I'm grateful for quickly to get 'caught up.'

Instead of brainstorming our reasons to be thankful, let's, instead, be daily looking for them to make themselves known to us. 

For example, I could be thankful for my daughter, Anna. I am very thankful for her so she would be a natural name to write on my page. How much more grateful, however, would it be if Anna happened to stop by just to say hi. Then, that evening, during my Daily Examen, my gratefulness wells up within me as I write Anna down as my person in which to be thankful. Not just someone I love, but someone who intersected my life today - my gift for the day.

See the difference?

There's a bit more trust to this challenge - trust that we will see a reason in which to be thankful AND trust that God, the giver of good gifts, will bring those gifts into our lives. This is also a partnership between us and God in that, I believe, God surrounds us with daily reminders of his love for us, it's often us who are too busy or blind to see the gifts around us.

Looking for reasons to be thankful is a powerful way to develop healthy, life-giving thinking habits.

Be Thankful Booklets

I created these little booklets for my small group, but you can use a journal or whatever paper you have available, to get into the practice of being grateful. Begin your day asking God to bring to your attention to a reason in which to be grateful. Sit with God in the evening asking God to remind you and then write down the name, situation, encounter on your paper. If you're a creative-type, perhaps you can experiment with other mediums to journal your experience. 

Let us combat our "stinking-thinking" (as my mom used to say) by opening ourselves to seeing reasons to be thankful for each day.

Have fun this November!

"Give thanks to the LORD, for he is good. His love endures forever."  

Halloween Comes Full-Circle

I have so much in my head and heart concerning Harvest/Halloween Carnivals, I decided to write them down. Perhaps if they're written here, I can let them go...

Opening our Front Lawn (1998-2005)

In 1998 we were leaders at the Fresno Vineyard. Our church met in a converted warehouse "behind Costco" on Shaw near Highway 99. Prior to 1998, my husband and I lived in an apartment, but in 1998 we purchased our first house in the block southeast of Fresno and Bullard. We were never "Halloween People," but the more neighbors I met that first year at my house, the more I wanted to host "something" to get to know the people who lived around me. In 1998 we hosted our first "Harvest Party" in our front yard. Children and parents were both delighted to play some games, drink some hot apple cider, and engage in friendly conversation as they passed our house on their way to trick-or-treat. We did front-yard "Harvest Parties" for eight years before closing our church. 

Developing my Neighborhood Theology.

In the late 90's, I was in the beginning stages of developing a theology of neighboring - a topic that has continued to be close to my heart. I began looking for more ways to either invite my neighbors to my house or look for opportunities for where my "neighbors" (or anyone in my community for that matter!) was gathering, and attempt to place myself in the middle of that gathering place. I began chewing on ideas to help churches increase their impact in neighborhoods. How can we move from a building-centric church to a community of house-churches? It "helped" that the Fresno Vineyard sold our worship center and began renting space on a Sunday morning. Nothing like being portable to force growth into the homes. Bret and I experienced one of our favorite church communities during this season: a broad swath of different people, coming together from different backgrounds (ages, life-stages, ethnicities, and economics) with the common goals of being formed into the image of God together. Hands down, the BEST small group we have ever been part of. Though our small group met near Fresno High, our Harvest Parties continued in my front yard until our church closed in 2005.

Challenging a Vision (2006-2017)

When I began the job of Children's Coordinator of a church in Clovis, one of my first major assignments was to participate in the church's annual Halloween Carnival on Halloween night. I was hit with a conflict because I had become so accustomed to my Front-Yard Harvest Parties, I felt like I was abandoning my neighborhood to do my church-job. Why would I willingly leave my house on the one night my neighbors would be coming to me? 

With no option to opt-out, I had to give up my neighborhood party and push my creativity into my church function. After just a few years, I was put in charge of the Halloween Carnival at the church and casted an alternative vision for why and how we could approach Halloween, centering on the importance of neighborhoods. Instead of church leaving their neighborhoods on this night, what if we were, instead, purposeful about this night and made our presence known. I altered our plan so that we would still have a yearly Halloween Carnival, but it would be on the Sunday before Halloween, freeing us on October 31st to be in our neighborhoods, meeting neighbors. I loved the chance to create space for our town to come to our big and fabulous Halloween Carnivals the Sunday before, but my favorite space was still my front-yard - hanging out with my neighbors, drinking apple ciders, and playing games with neighborhood children.

Expanding our Circumference (2018-2019) 

Change occurred again in 2018 when I become the Children's Pastor of a church in Fresno. The pastor I worked with also had a passion for neighboring and also wanted to experiment with changing how the church had experienced Halloween thus far. In years prior, the church would decorate and open their gym for the neighborhood and church members to eat together and play games. Our new idea was to partner with the local school to have a Halloween Party after school on Halloween. This incarnational-view centered on Jesus' willingness to come to us and bring reconciliation and healing. Instead of inviting our community to come to us, we came to them bringing games, tickets and prizes. We did this for two-years and it went well. My only problem? Once I was finished with clean-up, it was dark and I did not have time to set-up my front-yard harvest party. I was once again was pulled away from my neighborhood doing church-work somewhere else. There's got to be a way to combine these, or somehow do them so they're not conflicting...

Changing a Culture (2020-2022)

Then, in 2020, COVID came, forcing all of us to pivot. Creative thinking and trying out new ideas are some of my specialties so I was excited as Halloween approached to think of how I could use this opportunity to change the culture of this church. I had lived a block south of this church years ago and didn't feel like it was very invitational. Something about how the parking lot worked, the color-choices, and strange language on the kiosk kept me from perusing this church. The previous pastor had stepped down so I had free space to create anything I wanted. I decided to bring the carnival back to the church campus, but to keep it in the parking lot. Though many people thought this was due to COVID regulations, it was actually a strategy to keep the church visible, instead of hidden in the gym. Much to the church's surprise, the community responding with their resounding presence. Candyland was a great success and everyone was thrilled. Since I was in charge, I scheduled the carnival during the afternoon, for safety AND...you guessed it...so I would have time to be in my own neighborhood! 

The next year, with a new pastor at the helm, I was permitted to do a parking-lot carnival again, this time a "Knock-Knock Joke" theme (complete with lots of bad jokes!). With Halloween falling on a Sunday, we, once again, held an afternoon carnival so that people would have the opportunity to be back in their neighborhoods. 

In 2022 came the culture-shift: Halloween fell on a Monday. With 13-years of experience at the last church, two successful years of parking-lot carnivals, and knowing how well the church and community responded to a carnival the Sunday leading into Halloween, I proposed we do the same. 

Thrillingly, the church hosted an Encanto Halloween Carnival on the Sunday afternoon and then I got to enjoy my neighbors on Monday evening! It was fabulous! Though I had hoped to make a few more adjustments to further a neighborhood approach to Halloween night and link back with the local elementary school, my time at that church also came to a close.

Close, but not Quite Home (2023)

This year was strange. We're not serving in a church and feel a bit "homeless." I could sense the weather cooling and leaves changing and felt my anticipation of carnival festivities rising. After 26-years of leading fall carnivals, believe me when I say, I could feel the night approaching. My husband could see my restlessness so we drove to Oregon to visit his brother in an attempt to keep my mind off the impending day. 

Once we were back home and knowing the day could not be avoided (plus I love the chance to be with people!) we decided to bring some of our carnival games and backdrops to a friends house in the Tower District. They have a TON of kids come through so I thought that sounded like a good plan. With 1,000's of kids walking through our games we stayed busy for over three hours! It was so much fun to be in a neighborhood! It was a blast having the lawn lit up with spotlights, backdrops and games tucked between episodes of The Day of the Dead! We had children entering our lighted area crying from the ghouls next door to begin smiling at the frog launch and plinko games! The only set-back: people asking if I lived at this house, or commenting on "my" house being "the best house on the block." I didn't live here.

Once again, I felt dislocated. Finally in an area of town where there's people, but still feeling like I'm a visitor. I've been in four different neighborhoods, still seeking for the place to call home. 

This year was closer - being with a community of people from a large range of backgrounds, being outside, in the front yard, handing out candy and smiles and hanging out with friends in their front yard.

Back in the Neighborhood

As I reflect on my Halloween experiences and how those experiences have shaped church cultures and developed my own understanding of neighboring, I recognize my desire to feel settled in a neighborhood. I am grateful for my years of creating community for others, but so desire the change to be part of that community myself, not just watch from the sidelines. 

What began 26-years-ago in my front yard has come full-circle. We're back in a front yard and this fireball of energy still wells up within me at the idea of neighbors coming together. Crazy events like Halloween carnivals continue to teach me and shape me as I listen and observe. 

May we all continue to be challenged and grow at each event and conversation as we interact with priceless people who offer sacred opportunities to share life together. May we choose our neighborhoods, not just a "night off," but the purposeful decision to meet our neighbors, learn names, and build a community that pursues peace together.

Peace!

 (this year Bret and I were Mario and Luigi!)