Beauty on the Backroads

Stories of grace for life's unexpected turns

pastoral ministry

The next chapter

My husband graduated from seminary this weekend.

It’s the end of a journey we began four years ago with little knowledge and a lot of faith.

We packed up a U-haul, my dad’s truck and our Saturn, not knowing if we’d have a place to live. Or a job. We didn’t know if we’d find friends. A church family. A community in which to settle. We thought we’d finish seminary in three years. (It took four.)

I didn’t know what living in a small town would be like. (Was Wal-Mart close?)

Our arrival in Myerstown was at least a little quieter than our arrival in Charleston, IL the year before. (We were driving around town the first night and a cop pulled me over in our new driveway for a non-functioning license plate light and a broken tail light. I got a warning. And a friendly welcome.)

It was an adventure in all senses of the word. God provided for us in ways that blew our minds. And He stripped away our dependence on ourselves, our parents, anyone but Him.

His call on our lives to come to Pennsylvania was crystal clear, in spite of the uncertainties and perceived insecurities.

In spite of deep disappointments, dark valleys and discouragement.

In spite of missing family so much it hurts.

In spite of unmet expectations.

And it wasn’t all bad.

Sometimes, it was great.

Like when our family of three became a family of four.

 

Like being so close to Hershey you can practically smell the chocolate.

Like making life friends we’ll never forgot.

Like being counted as family with people who were once strangers.

Like facing an uphill battle and arriving on the other side alive. And victorious.

Yes, this journey has had its ups and downs. Sometimes we were WAY up. And sometimes we were WAY down.

And we’re on the other side.

If life is a story, which I would say it is, then we’ve closed a chapter and opened a new one.

Today, we are no longer in seminary. My husband has a master’s degree. He’s an alumnus. He has no papers due. No assignments. No upcoming classes. We don’t have to order any books.

Today, my husband is taking me away for three days. To reconnect as a couple. To pray for the future. To celebrate our May milestones: my birthday, Mother’s Day, graduation and our five-year wedding anniversary (later this month).

Today, we begin another adventure, destination unknown.

We are not entering full-time paid church ministry at this time. My husband is looking for a job. We might move. We have a couple of months’ living expenses stashed away while we make these decisions.

Uncertainty and insecurity threaten again. We don’t know the next step. We know God, though, and we know He is good. And faithful. And walking with us. He will not forsake us. He has not abandoned us. He is leading us.

The next chapter is blank, as far as we can see it. We are pursuing opportunities, waiting for God to show us the next part of our story with Him.

The adventure continues.

We invite you along on the journey. It could be a bumpy ride.

Pray with us as we seek God.

How can we pray for you? And what adventure is God taking you on?

 

There’s no place like home

Aren’t they cute? OK, so I’m biased. But I thank God for these two squirmy, can’t-sit-still-for-a-second, bundles of energy, every day. Especially today. They’re total troopers. After two days of traveling, riding in a car, strapped in their seats, with not much entertainment except a DVD player for the 2-year-old and a few toys and a taggie blanket for the baby, they’re both sound asleep in their own beds, in their own room. I’m soon to follow, if the caffeine I ingested all afternoon works its way out of my system.

Even with our stuff still a little out of place, it’s good to be home. Our own beds. Our own schedules. Our own comforts. Our own quirks, like the living room lamp that suddenly switches itself on and off every few minutes. And the shower that runs REALLY hot for a few seconds then turns ice cold for 10 minutes then warms up to a tolerable temperature, if you make it that long in the shower.

I missed these things, and others, while we were visiting family. And now that I’m here, I miss things about there. Constant companionship. Emotional support. A stocked fridge. (Grocery shopping here is scheduled for tomorrow.) I even miss the dumb dog a little bit.

Maybe I should feel blessed to have two places that I love so much. Actually, this is the third place we’ve lived as a couple. Although we didn’t stay long in the last town we lived in, we made lifelong friends and our daughter was born there, so it, too, holds a special place in our hearts. I knew going into this journey toward pastoral ministry that settling in wasn’t necessarily part of the deal. Some pastors stay in one place for a long, long time. Others, not so much. I think we’re in the latter category. Not that we’re short-timers by any means, but I don’t think we’ll spend 25 years at one church. God could change that, but that’s how I see it now. So, this leaving pieces of ourselves all over the country is just getting started. Our son was born here, and we are making lifelong friends again. This, too, will be one of many “homes” we have along the way.

There’s a song by Andrew Peterson, “Venus,” that really touches my husband and me (one of many of his, really) and while it’s descriptive of Peterson’s call to Christian music ministry, we can identify with it as future full-time pastoral ministers. Part of the lyrics are:

“Well I’ve never seen the spirit wind,
But I have seen the tall grass bend
So I’ll follow it wherever it may bring us
And as long as I’ve got songs to sing
I hope somebody’s listening
‘Cause we can always find a home right here between us”

Looking at those kids above, and thinking of my husband, I know that “home,” for now, will always be where they are. Ruby slippers or not, there really is no place like it.