'Twas the Night Before My Final Day of Classes in Seminary...

and I cannot believe I made it this far...

and I know that I've only come this far by faith...

and I am basking in the wonderfulness that is my life...

and I am grateful to God for all of this wonderfulness...

and I have three assignments between me and graduation...

and I must stop blogging so I can go finish one of the three (final sermon due tomorrow)...

but I must first say that I know that I know that I know that I am a preacher...

and I also know that I am not yet the preaching woman that I will become...

but I am grateful for the preaching woman that I have blossomed into...

and I've cried more tears in the last few days than I did in my first semester at Drew...

and these are tears of joy and hope rather than tears of frustration, despair, and loneliness...

because I know that I haven't walked this journey alone...

Because I haven't walked this journey alone, I must give God thanks for the cloud of witnesses that have been by my side—whether present or in spirit—as I have walked this walk. I don't want to name any for fear of forgetting just one. I am grateful for those who have sustained me, prayed with me, studied with me, hugged me, cried with me, listened to me, taught me, mentored me, challenged me, shared meals with me, walked with me, talked with me, sat with me, shopped with me, and preached with me. I am grateful for those who have conspired with me, aspired with me, and inspired me. I am grateful for those women and men who have paved the way for me. I am grateful even for those who will come after me.

'Twas the night before my final day of classes in Seminary and I am grateful!

If I had known then what I know now, I would have...

Today, as I lapped around the walking track built above the gym in the YMCA in Mount Vernon, I listened to and watched a group of boisterous (some might say wild) chocolate children having relay races. I watched them with awe, amazed by their energy. I watched them with envy, wishing I could sprint and laugh and leap the way that they did. I watched them with a sense of regret, mourning the loss of such moments in my own childhood where I was either too scared or lazy or insecure to do such things. Truth be told, I didn't learn to hula-hoop until I was 33 and I still cannot do a cartwheel. Anyway, as I walked and ran and looked at the children playing I found myself filling in the blank of this statement: If I had known then what I know now, I would have...

I don't condone or suggest living a life of regret. I am who I am. I did what I did. I did not do some things, and frankly I cannot change that. Perhaps, even, it wasn't for me to do. I mean, would I be the scholar (adult word for nerd) that I am had I been interested more in athletics than books? I don't know. But yet this statement still lingers, begging to be answered. Here are some of the things I would have done differently if I had the wisdom I have now. So, if I knew then what I know now, I would have...

Really committed my life to Christ the first time around.
Taken naps in kindergarten.
Given my all in gym class.
Saved my MJ pleather pocketbook from 2nd grade.

Taken notes everytime my grandfather spoke.

Told my truth a lot sooner than I did.

Done cartwheels without fear.

There is probably more. Even still, I know that every experience--every high place and every low place--has shaped me into the woman I am today. I am also grateful that I serve a God of second and third and fourth chances. In fact, although I'm not making resolutions (it is more like purposing to live life on purpose with purpose) I will do a cartwheel before 2010 comes to a close! Happy New Year!

image taken from http://www.urbanspirit.co.uk/wp-content/uploads/2007/08/cartwheel.jpg

Change of Tune...

            The tune to which my life plays out has always been do be do be do...  In other words, I am a doer. Anyone who knows me, well or peripherally, knows that I am a doer. I won't go into all of my doing here (my head will start to hurt), but let's just say in the last year I've had seven or eight simultaneous jobs while carrying 15 credits at school. I am a doer. Sometimes I wonder why I do so much. Perhaps it is people pleasing. Perhaps it is restlessness. Perhaps I do not know how to say no. Perhaps it is the way I understand my value as a child of God/human being. Perhaps I need a change of tune.  

            In fact, Dr. Heather Elkins would say that I need to change my tune, so "be-ing" comes before do-ing. Be do be do be... It sounds awkward. It seems out of step. I'll have to learn a new dance, but  apparently, that is the memo that God has been sending me over the last two months. God has been whispering and shouting, in the day and night, through written word and song, in my heart and from the mouths of others that I need to be still and know that he is God (Psalm 46:10). I am fully aware that I am moving into a new season in my life, where being still and knowing God is the order of the day. It is a new thing for me, but I am confident that it is the right thing for me. So, I've pared down my class schedule, my jobs, and my extracurricular activities. I am going into the Fall just be-ing, so I can discern what God would have for me to be do-ing.

            Here is where God's wicked sense of humor comes in...Yesterday, my roommate and I were running errands. On our way back into our apartment, we stopped in the foyer at a box of books. Being the book junkie that I am, I had already scavenged the box for good finds. (one such find was Loving the Body: Black Religious Studies and the Erotic edited by Dr. Anthony Pinn and Dr. Dwight Hopkins.) She wanted to stop and take a peak, so we did. As I looked through again, I noticed a book that I had not seen on my first hunt. I picked it up and chuckled to myself. Thoughts danced in my head: Ok, God, I get it! OK, God, I'm going to slow down. OK, God, you win! OK, God, be-ing, be-ing, be-ing! The book that I held in my hands (that is now in the suitcase I will take with me to Tennessee) is Mediations for Women Who Do Too Much by Anne Wilson Schaef.  

Just in case I did not get it, God sent a message loudly and clearly—a message that I can meditate on 365 days of the year.