A few months ago, new housemates moved in. Ever since then, I feel like all I’ve done is talk about myself, what I’m learning, how I’m being stretched, etc.

I feel selfish.

I “should” be in conversation about community, what it means to live in community, what it means to serve others.

I feel selfish.

Then, it hit me: to live in community is to engage in an incredible amount of self-discovery. If nothing else, living in community teaches you about SELF. Self-awareness, self-care, and self-compassion.

Selfishness: be gone. Be transformed into a conversation about self in community.

I’m getting new housemates. These housemates and I are starting an intentional living community of 20-somethings who will live and follow a rhythm of life… together.

***

This morning I woke up before 7 [on a Saturday, I know. I KNOW.] and decided to not get out of bed for a while but to instead watch something on Netflix. I’d had Field of Dreams in my instant queue for a while and noticed that it would be leaving netflix sometime next week, so I decided to watch it. I hadn’t watched this movie since I was a kid… and I’m not sure if I ever even watched it in its entirety. So I settled in for a feel-good story set in my home state. I didn’t expect the overwhelming sense of loss I felt by the end.

The first time the “Is this Heaven?” “No, it’s Iowa.” was stated, I chuckled. The second time around is at the end when Kevin Costner realizes that his field truly IS a field of dreams, the ”Is this Heaven?” “No, it’s Iowa.” took on a whole new meaning for both him AND myself.

A few stray tears rolled sideways on my face [I was on my side] as I realized, yet again, how much I miss Iowa. People often ask if I miss Iowa, but I usually think that I just miss the people. I do, however, also miss the vast fields of green below a 8pm golden sunset.

***

A piece of my Iowa is moving in with me tomorrow. We all grew up within 2 hours of each other, but none of us met until college. If you had told me then that I would move to the greater Seattle area and start an intentional community with 2 of my best friends, I’d have told you that you were crazy. I’d never actually leave Iowa.

But here I am, and I am so incredibly thankful and excited to start this house and have a piece of Iowa move to Seattle and hang out with me.

http://slog.thestranger.com/slog/archives/2008/11/26/youth_pastor_watch

Just as a note, a few months ago we had a retreat for all the high school youth. Our guest speaker for the weekend was a fabulous man named Mark Terrell, who is the founder and director of a ministry for kids on the street in Spokane, WA. It’s called Cup of Cool Water, and you can find their info here and here.

Over the weekend, whenever Mark would share stories, I noticed that he never used the phrase “homeless people” or “street kids” or even “prostitute”, but rather used terms like “people who were homeless”, “kids who live on the street”, and “women involved in prostitution”. I asked him if this is intentional, and he said indeed it is. People deserve to be recognized first and foremost as human beings, and not as their situation or living.

I don’t think I’ll ever forget the look on his face when he said it, or the passionate way he stated his short reply. And I’m doing my best to catch phrases in my conversations and thinking that allow people to be people, rather than their situation.

I went home and turned on the Washington vs North Carolina game, with about 10 minutes to play, the teams vying for a spot in the Sweet 16. Those last 10 minutes of the game were intense, both teams exhibiting their passion for the game and the win through their sweat, tears, and giving their all.

As the game game down to a final 1:30 to play, my own internal intensity level rose and I knew that I was fully invested in the game. I also knew that others had skipped worship at church this morning to stay home and watch this same game that I was now clutching my hands over. With great conviction, I realize that I am as invested in the outcome of this game as the homeless men were invested in worship this morning.

Basketball, for me, was more exciting this morning than worship. Even though both gatherings come together for a similar purpose with some parallel goals, one assembly “won” over the other in attendance this morning.

I remember a few moments on my faith journey thus far where I was more excited about seeing what God would do than I was about the game this morning. I know that believers around the world live with the same intensity and fervor for God and their faith as the people watching the game this morning…

…and I am saddened by the lack of fervor in my own faith that would make me more excited to watch UNC and UW play a game than worship God in a community of believers. Yet I don’t blame myself or any other person who skipped church this morning, because we want to be a part of something where we can fully display our passion, rejoice and triumph in great achievements and victory, and hold each other in the face of great loss.

I don’t think that God is more present in a church building than a basketball arena on any given Sunday morning. I think that watching basketball can be a worshipful experience [on many levels!]. I am just disappointed that spirituality for the majority of Americans means finding a spiritual or worship experience needs to come through a basketball game rather than a gathering of a community for the purpose of worshipping God and no other.

1.Move slow. (Speed often leads to pain.)

2.Regularly check your motives and evaluate your heart.

3.Steer clear of the numbers game.

4.Do not criticize the past.

5.Avoid the comparison trap.

6.Focus on priorities.

7.Pace yourself.

8.Serve.

9.Learn.

10.Pursue contentment.

So good. Sooooooo very good. Simple and clean cut, yet so loaded with meaning.

Last week, the thing on my mind was the basic fact that if you don’t build something well, it won’t withstand a storm very well, if at all. [Funny, doesn't that sound rather familiar? Like a parable, perhaps?] This list fits in so perfectly with the idea of building something well from the beginning.

It was a great reminder this morning to simply focus on what’s important and not get caught up on all the stressful extra things swirling around me.

No matter how pretty it might be, how appealing the speed to build quickly, how weird it may be to make small fixes in the beginning.

Storms reveal how well built it is.

I took a few of the girls I work with [all seniors except one sophomore] to a ‘conversation’ on gender and ministry at a nearby [Christian] grad school. I didn’t know what to expect, other than the guest speakers were well known and respected.

The conversation quickly revealed that the vast majority of people in the room work in contexts where women are either not ordained or socially not allowed to be pastors. As conversation swirled, I realized that all the girls I had brought [not all are from the same congregation] have grown up with female pastors. [Also, one of the girls' mother is a pastor!] They also have me as a female leader.

When we were allowed a 5 minute break to potty, talk, and stretch our legs, all the girls immediately turned to me and bombarded me with questions and astonishment that this is even an issue for some people. We were then able to have really honest and cool conversations about the whole thing.

I am so pleased to be able to work with young women in an environment where this issue of women in ministry has never crossed their paths–they’ve been able to grow without that bias and can fully see just how…. interesting…. such an idea is.

There should be a Masters Degree in youth ministry systems. That would be uber helpful.