If you have regrets…

Cross-posted from Facebook…

marchstole
My Women’s March stole-of-many-names and a “comfort pack”(miscellaneous necessities to share with others.)

At the Women’s March in Washington, D.C. yesterday, I carried many names on my stole. It was an honor and a privilege. When someone asked me, I could hardly talk about it without getting teary. There were many among my family and friends and coworkers and patients who could not go… and I was aware of your reasons.

So this is for you…

Perhaps you didn’t go to the Women’s March near you and are having some regrets. I’m thinking of all you who have a case of the woulda-coulda-shoulda’s. I’ve gotten a few PMs and wanted to say this…

  • Perhaps you could not go because you were doing something that needed YOU. No one else had your skills, your knowledge, the gift of YOU.
  • Perhaps you had to work (there were several of you who did that.) It wasn’t an option. Pay the rent, work your shift, be responsible.
  • Perhaps you had someone to take care of and couldn’t give that duty to someone else. (Thank you to all those parents, grandparents, caregivers, and overtired family members.)
  • Perhaps you were not physically able (my tired bones get that, too!)
  • Perhaps large crowds are not your thing.
  • Perhaps the cost was just too much — your job, your finances, your relationships, your time, your job security, your physical stamina, your emotional health, your workload for the rest of the week, your studies. You made a choice not to go — and I want to affirm… it was a good choice. It’s about your WHOLE life. It was a matter of balance and being real with yourself. Please don’t second-guess yourself about not going.

I want to thank you for reading our posts, listening to our stories and being in the moment, vicariously. While your voice may have been missed, you can start speaking up now.

HONESTLY? Now comes the hard part. Now is when we need each other. Now is when we need YOU. Your voice. Your gifts. Your focus. Your prayers. Your anger. Your integrity. Your wit.

This movement is JUST BEGINNING.

When the celebrities leave the stage, the busses go home, the pink hats come off, the signs start collecting dust, the pundits start mocking and dissecting us… NOW is when we are all needed.

To keep each other honest.

To ask the hard questions.

To be intentional in including ALL of us in the next days and weeks.

To read, write, think, discuss, pray and do things in ways we have never done them before.

To volunteer for causes and issues we are passionate about.

To support nonprofits who are the only backstop some folks have.

To watch our elected officials like a hawk and write them/call them/badger them.

To trust each other more and be less pissy. (Can a pastor say that? YES I CAN.)

I had a distinct honor to be able to march. I went as a white woman of privilege to bear witness. I left hoping to bring more into the story. So may we all.

 

I don’t speak for you

I don’t speak for you.

There. I said it.

I also don’t speak for people who look like me, dress like me, work with me, worship with me, or live near me. And, most importantly, I most definitely do not speak for someone who is nothing like me!

I am just… me. A wife and mom. A hospice chaplain. A progressive Baptist. A pastor. An LGBTQ+ally (and yes — I asked and was told that I am. If that matters.)

I look like women who voted for Trump in large numbers, and that pisses me off. (White, middle class, Christian.) I supported Hillary and contributed to her campaign. I tried to influence the hearts and minds of people around me to vote for her. And apparently, I was not very good at it.

Election night, I had tears in my eyes and felt frustrated. I had no words for those closest to me who were also devastated. I heard their fears. I was distressed with them. I am deeply worried about them because of the rhetoric and abuse we all heard from Trump during the campaign. They are vulnerable because of who they are.

Here’s what I have learned in the last few days…  (Sorry it’s in bullet points. I don’t have time to create fantastic, in-depth prose.)

  • By accident of birth, education and economic status, I could fade into the Great Beyond of white suburbia. But my Calling, my conscience and my faith do not allow that.
  • Those who know me already, know that when I wear a safety pin* or a rainbow bracelet, that I am visibly trying to signal what I believe and will do. And that I want them to be treated fairly, kindly, respectfully as I want to be treated.
  • Those who don’t know me personally might think I’m posturing.
  • The dying patients I serve, as well as their families, need my focus and care. Many of them are marginalized by their race, religion or gender identity.
  • My coworkers who care for the dying with me every day are sad, stressed and discouraged.
  • My family, friends, and parishioners have real fears, hurts and anxieties because of this election season.
  • I don’t have enough money, time or energy to respond to every need around me. That means I have to pick and choose, and I try to do that wisely.
  • I am praying — fiercely — for the projected new President.** (As of this date, the Electoral College has not met.)

 

I am trying to make a difference where I am. Today. Tomorrow. Next week. Next year. In my context. Wherever God takes me.

I will do this imperfectly. Incompletely. Ignorantly. But I will keep trying.

I will  continue speak up against hate speech whenever I witness it.

I will keep learning. Growing. Praying. Reading. Listening. Serving. I’ll wear a safety pin and a rainbow bracelet. And sometimes, a cross. And I’ll try to do a better job of being an example of Christ in the world.

soli deo gloria

 

*It used to be that when someone wore a cross, they were expected to act “Christianly”. But today, the cross has been co-opted by political entities within American politics. It seems that a safety pin might better express my effort to be a welcoming, affirming and listening presence, without the trappings of a particular religious group.

**[edited to add] This does not mean he has my approval or my trust. (Bless his heart.) It means I am fulfilling a Scriptural admonishment to pray for those in authority.

Book Review: “Ruined” by Ruth Everhart

TRIGGER WARNING: Rape; sexual assault.

ruined

As a mother, I’ve had more than enough good advice to pour into my daughters’ ears.  (I’m sure, in fact, I’ve said TOO much!) Sometimes it takes a lot of courage to say, “here is my story… learn from it!” But Ruth Everhart’s memoir is one of courage, honesty and integrity.

The setting of her memoir could be near any of a number of college campuses. It was a Sunday evening, after church. A houseful of Christian college women were forcibly held and raped at gunpoint… and lived through the experience. Ruth and her friends survived a night of chaos, distress and violation.

It’s a club no one wants to join, this sisterhood. It’s a story no one wants to hear. To live through. To have to testify about to a room full of strangers. To somehow pull the shards of your life back together and try to finish college, go to graduate school, get married, have children…

To compound her recovery, Ruth had to navigate the restoration of her sense of safety and worth. She had to redefine what it meant to be a single woman in a purity culture of high moral expectations. And, somehow, she had to find a way to experience wholeness and forgiveness… despite the label she felt she would wear forever… RUINED. Or, as the judge called the victims at the sentencing of one of the perpetrators, “marred and scarred.”

Ruth’s greater story is the one of how she recovers her understanding and perceptions of God. For how could she hold to the tenets of a faith that allowed this horrible event to occur? Where was God when she was raped with a gun to her head?

As she wrote:

It had been more than a year and I still couldn’t live with the implication of what I’d always believed: that everything happens according to the will of God. The God I loved simply wasn’t that monstrous…”

In the process, Ruth found ways to overcome being a prisoner of her past. She fought her way past the most visceral of reactions to claim her healing. She shares the process of moving from victim to survivor to overcomer. It wasn’t a straight line, for like all of us in the healing process, there are zigs and zags in the road to wholeness. She discovered a way to take the hard parts of her life and allow God to not only release her from them, but to become a woman God would use, as she says, “not in spite of them, but because of them.”

I won’t spoil Ruth’s story for you… because I think as you read her experiences and reflect on her spiritual journey, you will ponder the way of your own. You might also consider the injustice done to women through the patriarchal systems of the “purity culture” of fundamentalist Christians. You will also have to reflect on that notion of God’s grace — how it reaches us and transforms us. And that in itself will be a blessing.

******

Ruined by Ruth Everhart. Tyndale House Publishers, Inc.; Reprint edition (August 2, 2016).

Disclosure of Material Connection: I was provided this book without cost from the author and was not required to give a positive review. The opinions I have expressed are my own. I am disclosing this in accordance with the Federal Trade Commission’s 16 CFR, Part 255 : “Guides Concerning the Use of Endorsements and Testimonials in Advertising.”

I have no words…

2014-08-04 19.49.57

I have
no words
to share
what’s on my heart.
I have only
tears
and prayers,
and the promise
that You, O Lord,
will walk through this valley
with me.

I have
no wisdom
to give
in this place of grief.
I have only
hugs
and tissues,
and the blessing
of knowing Your peace,
as our hearts
are in pieces.

I have
no tears
to cry
because (quite honestly) my well is dry.
I have only
the promise
of the resurrection
and that You, O Lord,
watch our laboring steps
and shower us
with Love.

Rev. Deb Vaughn
June 26, 2016

Refocusing

 

It wasn’t in the plans for our senior pastor to come down with some form of the Maryland “plague.” Nor had I planned on preaching tomorrow. As I did some chores and cooked dinner this evening, I meditated on the verses for tomorrow’s service. I read her manuscript (which is wonderful) and now it’s time to refocus and make it God’s Words through me…

It is a wondrous thing to have just spent the last day with some wonderful clergywomen. We listened, talked and dreamed. More will come from our time together in the days and weeks to come. But for now, my focus turns to the sermon prep I need to do.

I am not worried nor anxious. There is a sense that God has brought me through many twists and turns to come and partner with this congregation and be a part of what the Spirit would do in our corner of Christendom.

As I sat with Scripture tonight, I stopped to re-center, breathe and remember…

… deep breaths

… long talks

… friends on this journey

… Christ at the center

… the Eucharist shared with loving hearts and hands

 

What God can do next will exceed my expectations.

Holy Spirit, come.

TBTG

2015 blogging in review

It’s been a growing year. I had 98 new posts and over 5800 views. While I am grateful for each visit and comment, it was about 1/3 less than in 2014. That kinda surprised me, so I pondered why…

Rules at work about social media

I have always been very careful about what I post and how I talk about my work as a chaplain. Now I have to be extra cautious because my company is anxious about privacy laws. Violation of HIPAA laws is no joke. I would be fired and my company fined. That’s a helluva way to end a ministerial career!

So, I frequently can’t publish the things God is teaching me through m work. In fact, there are about 20 posts still in draft mode because I can’t figure out how to “anonymize” them.

Changes in my home congregation

Our senior pastor is moving into discernment with a new denomination. Our congregation is in a vulnerable place of change and growth. There’s a lot of discussion and (at times) disagreement. At this point, God is leading me and my family to another church (not sure exactly where yet, but I have a good idea).

Things are a little rough around the edges. I don’t want to blog my personal reflection on something and hurt someone. This accounts for 9 posts still in “draft” mode.

Energy and motivation

This human being has had many a night where I would rather veg on the couch and watch NCIS re-runs than write a blog post!! I’m pondering ways to be intentional about blogging (without making it busy work for myself!)  I make no “resolutions” about this — but I will be thinking through what I might do to increase my blogging frequency. It’s a clear fact that if you don’t publish new content, you don’t get visitors to your blog!

A big, huge, heartfelt THANK YOU for reading and following my blog! I write because I hope to share with the world the Light and Joy that God brings into my life.

Deb

And as a bonus… an updated, candid pic of yours truly, gearing up for the Ohio State vs Notre Dame contest in the Fiesta Bowl….

Happy New Year!

May 2016 be a year of encouragement and growth

for you and those you love!

 

 

Advent Week 1: Wayfinder

wayfinding

One very cold wet and rainy day, I noted this worker’s truck stationed near me in a parking lot.

“WAYFINDING”

What the heck is that?

So I took a little stroll through the internet when I got home and discovered that wayfinding is the way that we navigate through our environment, finding the way from one place to the next. In architectural terms, it is the signage and markings we follow in buildings and on street corners.

migration

I read a little further and learned that it is not always physical markers and signage. It’s a learned method of traveling with “spatial problem solving”. Humans do it. So do animals.

Migrating birds. Sea turtles. Horseshoe crabs. Hummingbirds. All use markers we may or may not know to return to their home nesting grounds.

I mulled this over for a while…

It occurred to me that Wayfinding also has a deep meaning in Advent. It is hearing and responding to those calling for help and hope in the hard places. In the wilderness.

3 A voice is wailing, “In the wilderness, get it ready! Prepare the way; make it a straight shot. The Eternal would have it so. Straighten the way in the wandering desert to make the crooked road wide and straight for our God.
4 Where there are steep valleys, treacherous descents, raise the highway; lift it up; bring down the dizzying heights. Fill in the potholes and gullies, the rough places. Iron out the shoulders flat and wide.
5 The Lord will be, really be, among us. The radiant glory of the Lord will be revealed. All flesh together will take it in. Believe it. None other than God, the Eternal, has spoken.”

Isaiah 40:3 The Voice

Prepare the way…

  • In homes where there a spouse or a child suffers violence at the hand of another family member.
  • In families where someone is rejected for their expression of their sexuality.
  • In schools where needed staffing, repairs, and resources are shunted to better neighborhoods.
  • In workplaces where policies and payroll are skewed in the interests of Big Business.
  • In neighborhoods where your ethnicity and race predetermine the response of law enforcement.
  • In states where you are unemployed because your main source of employment is outsourced to another country.
  • In countries where your life is threatened by political forces beyond your control (or your vote).

The ways in which we can bring a word of hope, peace and encouragement are massive… and the world waits for our answer.

Where do we start? At home. Moving out into the world, in ever-widening circles, one day at a time.

As we light the first candle of Advent, may you find the way to show the Glory that is among us.

 

Straighten the crooked places, Lord

Protect us from the treacherous days

of angry voices and evil intent.

Guide us out of the desert,

off of treacherous descents.

Point us back to the radiant glory

the promised day

the one we all wait to see

shall come.

May it be soon.

Maranatha.