The flicker of the campfire,
The wind in the pines,
The moon in the heavens,
The stars that shine,
A place where people gather,
Make friends of all kinds,
A place where all your troubles
Are always left behind...
So give me the light of the campfire,
warm and bright,
Give me some friends to sing with,
I’ll be here all night,
Love is for those who find it,
I’ve found mine right here,
Just you and the light of the campfire,
And songs we love to hear.
The campfire girl who grew up to be a campus pastor is back! Oh, do I have a story to tell! The commotion in my universe and campus ministry ate up a huge part of my life - wow, it's been over two years since I wrote. That's scary weird! To catch up on a bit of what's been going on, you could check my blog that I write for The Lutheran online magazine. The full text of the Invocation is posted there. So, we had this LCM Quadrennial Review on October 30-31 and then I had to go to a Lutheran Campus Ministry of MN (LCM-MN) Board meeting in Duluth, MN. I barely had time to catch my breath, sleep and re-group before heading up to the Iron Range on Friday, November, 2nd. "It’s official. My life is surreal."I can totally relate to my United Methodist campus pastor friend, Roger Wolsey. The night before I was to leave for Duluth, Roger says: "before I knew it, a 'voice of God' announcement rang out through the P.A. system saying, 'And now, to give the prayer of invocation, Pastor Roger Wolsey'… I took a deep breath, walked onto a red-carpeted stage, and prayed before a crowd of 10,000 people (easily 8-9,000 more than I’ve ever spoken in front of before)." With that he ascended the stage and offered the Invocation before President Obama gave a speech before a fired up crowd in Boulder, CO. The day after Roger had his amazing moment of invocation-grace, I was sitting in an executive committee meeting of the LCM-MN Board. My phone, set on silent, lit up. It was a call from an unknown number. "Let it go to voicemail," I thought, "I can check the message later." I was sort of zoning. Paying attention in the meeting, chiming in when need be. But, honestly - I was tired. It's no secret that these are not my favorite meetings. No offense to my colleagues and the great people who serve as LCM-MN Board members from across Minnesota, but it's just not that much fun hearing about how we don't really have enough money to support all the LCM sites to the fullest of our abilities. But, I digress. So, after taking a little break, I headed to our next meeting when all the campus pastors and other folks would be there for the full board meeting. My friend, Lynn Rae Olson, who is the University Lutheran Church of the Epiphany Council's Co-chair as well as the LCM-SCSU Campus Ministry Team Chair, was also present as a member of the LCM-MN Board. She went off for a bit of a break. I checked my messages in a random hallway. I often think that messages from unknown numbers might be emergencies. I listened patiently. It was no emergency, that's good. "Hi, this is Scott Cooper calling for Jayne Thompson, I got your number from Tarryl Clark. I'm with the Obama campaign and we're doing a special event in Sunday, on Sunday, ah, with President Bill Clinton in the evening..."
At first I thought it was the folks who call me to door-knock or do the phone-bank thing. "Event Sunday. Bill Clinton..." What? Wait. What? My mind went to - jumping up and down, middle-school teenager flip-flops - Grown up me is calm-ish. I listen. "We haven't announced it publicly yet, which is why you haven't heard about it but, um...we were looking for someone to do the Invocation for the event and she suggested you would be a great person to do that for a variety of reasons, um so I would love to talk to you about that." He continued on about giving me his number....which I just totally didn't hear because I was giddy with excitement (understatement...what does one do and how does one respond in times like these!?). I knew that my phone would remember the number, so I hit "call" and I was calling Scott, the nice man who was inviting me to pray when President Clinton was at Saint Cloud State University! "This is Pastor Jayne, calling for Scott..." Then Scott explained that they wanted me to pray and that if I was willing to do this, I would need to submit information to the Obama for America folks so that they could do their proper vetting. "I would be delighted and honored," I heard my calm voice say. Inside I was turning hand-springs, though it was my sister who could do those on the gymnastic mat. I could do only do flips the on the trampoline. My friend, Roger, said: "After nearly shooting chocolate milk out my nose in my booth at IHOP, and regaining at least some degree of composure, I said, “I would be absolutely honored! How long would you like it to be?" Scott told me I could have about three minutes and he would give me more details as they were available. Ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhh --- ah! The amazed-by-wonder, who-would-believe-it, exuberant young person is yelling inside of me! Barely able to contain myself, I try to find Lynn Rae. Seeing her in the hallway I restrained a shriek and said, LYNN RAE - COME HERE!" She thought someone was dead or that we had an emergency in our congregation. Wide-eyed, she rushed forward, "What is it?" I splurted out the news, trying to contain myself - she went bonkers...trying to contain herself. Then, we had to go to worship. Try focusing on wonderful worship when you have just received an unimaginable invitation. No sitting or former United States President has ever spoken at Saint Cloud State University, I later discovered. This was a big deal! Pastor Doug was preaching a great homily about the All Saints' Day prayer, "Loving God, you have knit your people together in one communion…"It was wonderful. I will use some of his images, I decided. In the meeting as we went around the circle telling who we were, where we are from and such, I was just - stunned. I didn't have any chocolate milk to snort out my nose, I just had boring coffee in the midst of needing to be professional and subdued...Minnesota Lutheran. I'm still not sure that those around our circle at the meeting comprehended the gravity or the weight of what I was saying. There were no gasps, no shouts of glee, no quips of "omigosh," just Minnesota smiles. The meeting goes on, I submit my information to Scott and start thinking about the Invocation. I called Jack, my spouse, somewhere in the midst of the commotion. He is happy and stunned as well. The rest is a flurry. I returned to Saint Cloud. Jack and I checked in with the Atwood staff. The event was to be held in the Ballroom which will hold 1,100. They were told to expect about 500. I am skeptical that will be sufficient to hold the crowd, but I can't tell them that. I have this inspiration that I will knit President Clinton a scarf. Jack doesn't know this. "Please, take me to JoAnn's, I need some yarn." Who the heck thinks like this? I haven't yet written the Invocation, yet I am already planning to knit a huge scarf! We go home and I write the draft of my Invocation and send it to Scott. They need to review it in order to make sure that the prayer-person doesn't pray something that is just ridiculous. It's mid-evening on November 3 and I still can't tell folks publicly that I am doing the Invocation. Knit, knit, knit...I knit furiously and wait for the word. Saturday evening, 9:54 pm - Done! Scott shares the word that I am good to go and wonders if I know anyone who can sing the National Anthem? Wow - another opportunity! I share information with him. The next day they will have vetted Heaven Leonard, a LCM student friend of mine! She is excited! I am still stunned. We all prepare. I keep knitting until Jack tells me to stop after trying the scarf on while still on the needles. It hangs almost to his shins. Jack exclaims, "My God, Jayne, he's not a giant!" We have to leave for Atwood. Arriving at the Atwood Student Center, I am ready. I am calm and confident. This is my turf and where Lutheran Campus Ministry has worship every Sunday at 6:00 pm in the Alumni Room. We kept our reservation for the room and I have planned to be in there to pray and prepare for the event. There are huge lines already snaking around the outside of the building when we arrive 5:00. I have made sure that my family is on the list to enter and am hoping that others connected to our campus ministry congregation might be able to get in as well. There were no guarantees. As I was instructed, I went to check in at table "A" to finally meet Scott Cooper and get instructions of where to be and when. He smiled warmly as we met, introduced me to another nice man who said, "Please be back here at 6:35. Then we'll take you back and your family will go to a designated spot in the ballroom." Alrighty then! And with that my group made its way to the Alumni Room weaving our way through the throngs of students, townspeople and folks of every nationality, race, creed and religion. They were sitting on the floor in the long line that doubled back and forth in the hallway outside the Alumni Room. Students sat with laptops and homework. Others got to know one another chatting as they waited for hours.
In the sanctuary of the Alumni Room, I prepared, read the Invocation to myself over and over.
Family and friends took candid and sometimes funny photos of me as I rehearsed.
There is the scarf that I knit so ferociously. I am ready to go, though at this point I don't realize that there is a pattern to that scarf! At 6:30 we leave the Alumni Room to converge at table "A." Upon checking it a table "A" again, in an organized yet friendly manner, each one of us who had a special role in the evening's event were escorted back to a holding room complete with a wall draped with a black curtain and the US flag and the MN flag. This is where selected folks would come for a photo-op with President Clinton before he took to the stage. While in this area I chatted with SCSU's President Potter and his wife, young adult campaign organizers, other state legislators and their families and nice guests who must have done amazing things and somehow knew President Clinton. Heaven Leonard, my student who was singing the National Anthem, was a smidgen nervous (well, who wouldn't be if at age 20 you were asked to sing at this cool event?!). She was wondering if she was going to be able to warm up. "Heaven, come with me," I said softly as we walked to the back corner of the black-curtained flag room. With my back to the wall so that it would buffer the sound and Heaven facing me I said, "Sing it to me." She sang the entire anthem beautifully, a bit trembly, but she sang her jitters out. When she finished we realized that everyone in the room was silent. "That was wonderful," whispered President Potter's wife smiling, "We just got a preview." I hugged her and told her she was going to be fine. She was beaming. Meanwhile, Jack, Katrina and other members of my campus ministry group were ushered into the ballroom. Jack and Katrina had VIP clearance and seating as my family members. I had no idea where they were sitting until I joined them in the audience after the Invocation. Heaven, Tom Codet, who was leading the Pledge of Allegiance, and I were guided to this darkened, black curtained room to the side of the stage. There we chatted, asked the Mr. Efficient organizer-man, Adam, questions when he wasn't talking to others on his earbud headphone. We walked in and out of our dark room, wandered the hall - but not too far because we didn't want them to flip out thinking we were lost. There were Secret Service and law enforcement folks everywhere we turned.
The ballroom was rocking with videos and shouts from the crowd. Jack snapped this photo of my chair next to President Potter's. I never did sit in it, but it was fun to see it.
Tom snapped this photo of Heaven and I in the dark room as we waited.
Unbeknownst to us, President Clinton was talking to the people outside.
"Eleven minutes," Adam announced as he directed some random tech person to cue up another video. We all start pacing. Heaven is singing to herself. Tom recites the Pledge. Holding that huge scarf and my notes, I pray. The activity picks up in our dark-curtained room. Adam instructs the young man who will be doing the Voice of God announcing, gives him his script. He practices to himself as well. Senator Al Franken and entourage arrive, we hear tell that Jim Graves, who will introduce the President is on his way. There is a delay, we hear, because the crowd still standing in lines outside is too big to put into Ritsche Auditorium, the overflow site. The Atwood staff was told to prepare for around 500. When it was all said and done, my guess is that there were over 5,000 who came to see Bill Clinton. Many weren't counted at the end since they turned away earlier to return home when it was clear that they wouldn't be able to get inside and didn't want to keep standing in the darkness.
It's showtime! Voice of God announces the Pledge. We all stand in the dark, hands over our hearts and face the direction of a flag we cannot see. Heaven sings, the crowd sings with her and she sounds stronger and stronger as they sing along. We sing along, too. Adam instructs Voice of God guy to hold off announcing me because he has to lower the podium mic for me. I am amused. This is always the challenge of speaking at events with a standard podium and no way for me to step up so that I don't vanish behind it. As he lowers the mic, I smile. The folks out in the crowd will know that I'm up next. My daughter, who was directly in front of the podium on the black-curtained fence told me later that someone behind her said, "Oh, there must be a child coming out to speak." The Voice of God rang out.
"And here tonight to give the prayer of Invocation is Pastor Jayne Thompson!"
And off I went up the stairs.
Here's the video, with some photos, that my daughter took of the Invocation.
Katrina snapped this great photo of President Clinton, she had the best spot in the house!
This is President Clinton's full speech.
After I was done, we waited to be escorted to our places in the audience to watch Emily, the DFL field office worker, Al Franken, Jim Graves and President Bill Clinton. Before the President was finished, though, the event folks came to fetch me, Heaven and Tom. As promised, we were going to get to meet President Clinton and have our photos taken with him. We waited somewhat patiently. Heaven was startled and her heart jumped every time the door opened behind her. I got the very serious Secret Service guy, who was the most stern looking one up front to the left when the President took the stage, to almost smile and he talked to me briefly. My hands were getting sweaty because I had been holding the gi-normous "neck blanket" scarf in hopes of actually giving it to the President. Then, he appeared!
Scott Cooper is on the far left of the photo. President Clinton begins to thank all the Obama campaign field organizers from Saint Cloud.
Then he stood for a photo with them, my group is next!
Tom looks bashful, but really he was just looking down at the wrong moment.
Not to worry, there's another photo of Tom smiling!
So, after knitting this scarf frantically beginning on Saturday evening after I wrote the draft of my Invocation and sent it in for vetting, carrying it with me for hours, when President Clinton came to me to shake my hand, I finally got to say, "Mr. President, it's wonderful to meet you. On behalf of the Saint Cloud State community, I knit you this scarf for the rest of your travels." He grins broadly and immediately takes it and puts it over his neck (yes, it is kind of long, even on him). Then he said, "If I were a minister I would wear it like this" (with the ends hanging down evenly) "but I think I'll wear it like this" (tossing one end over his shoulder). We laughed at him and I said, "I know that you have many more of these speeches to go and in the past, I know your voice can get hoarse, so I wanted you to have this to warm your throat for the rest of your travels and know that our prayers are with you."
He smiled, nodded and graciously said, "Thank you."
And with that he moved to the Atwood staff group assembled for their photo-op.
Note the small tag I sewed onto the scarf.
It says: "Created with care and with prayer by PJ - Pastor Jayne"
Later on while I was with my family and some friends getting a bite to eat and reflecting on this amazing night, I received an email from Scott Cooper.
"FYI, when he [President Clinton] left the building tonight he had the scarf draped around his neck!"
That made me very happy and it was a perfect ending to a once-in-a-lifetime experience. Yesterday I met with a young man who is a Lutheran student studying theology at Saint John's University. He wanted to meet up and to talk about campus ministry. In the course of our visit, he said that one of his friends took a photo of Bill and that he was wearing that red and black scarf! Hopefully, I'll be able to add that photo to this blog post soon.
To bring this all home to Lutheran Campus Ministry in a round about sort of way, I'll circle back to our Quad Review. In the midst of the review conversations, my friend and former MN Senator, Tarryl Clark, was among those who gladly came to share her support and enthusiasm for LCM. During one of the breaks, Pastor Herb Palmer who was leading the team was walking and chatting with me. He asked kindly and perhaps with a bit of puzzlement in his voice, "And just how is it that Senator Clark is connected with your campus ministry?" I smiled and quipped, "She just loves us! She loves college students. She's a member of Saint John's Episcopal Church here in town, the group that owned our building before the Lutherans bought it. She was so glad when I came to town and saw us actually reaching out to the students."
Tarryl and I have shared leadership at events on our campus during Coming Out Week in support of the LGBT students. We have a friendship that has grown over the years as she adores Jack's artwork and we see each other at events around town. When she was asked who could give the Invocation, she recommended me because she knows me and our work with SCSU. It was no accident or haphazard thing. It was born out of a lasting friendship and shared love for college ministry.
It was a great honor for me, to be sure. But it was more than that. It was a witness to the the long, enduring commitment of Lutherans to journey alongside of our public colleges and universities. On that November 4th, All Saints' Sunday, it was a tribute to those saints who decided to plant the seeds for LCM in Saint Cloud long ago in 1956, the year before I was born. It's important that we keep doing this - I say this a lot - feeling like the proverbial but archaically outdated broken record. Campus ministry is essential, not so that people like me can have jobs, though this truly is my gift and my calling. It's so that we are present, that we show up and add our blessings and esteem to those who are in that place of public higher education. As trusted campus ministry companions and partners with our university friends, we may be invited to pray in times of great sorrow, when a student suddenly dies by suicide or tragic accident or when there's a huge, public event that seems like it needs a prayer-person.
And maybe, just maybe when a former President of the United States of America comes to your campus for the first-time ever, you just might be the one invited to bring the prayers for all of the people gathered. You might be able to bring a word of grace and peace and announce the love of God for all those gathered. You might be the one to offer a prayer with those who have never prayed in their lives.
It came to pass that I had that opportunity and for that, I am so deeply grateful for my faith, my ministry and my calling to be a Lutheran Campus Pastor.
President Clinton and "the scarf" with Dan Wolgamott,
Field Organizer at the MN House of Representatives DFL Caucus
As I suspected would happen upon my return to work and hence my travels...I have neglected my blog. Sigh. I have much to tell - but all in good time. I have been musing on my weird-creepy anniversary of being bitten by a spider (likely a yellow sac spider which has the same cytotoxin as the deadly brown recluse spider). On 8-18-08 I noticed an itchy bite on my right heel - how annoying, but I didn't think much about it...until the next morning.
I've always had a healthy respect of spiders...even an admiration. They make cool webs and eat a lot of bugs. My dad read Charlotte's Web to my sister and I when we were in elementary school. I loved Charlotte - her compassion, her wit and her way with words. Charlotte saved Wilbur! Hooray for spiders!
Upon finding spiders in my home, I usually catch them and throw them outside. While we lived in Florida, Matt and Dan found a huge spider the size of a tea saucer in their room. It was so big that it made a flopping sound as it scuttled across their ceiling. After lots of commotion and yelling (ahhhhh), armed with a broom, coffee can and lid, Matt and I ascended the stairs. Brushing a mammoth spider off a cathedral ceiling with an eight year old wielding a broom is no small feat. We swished it as it plopped to the floor and I captured it! Yes - in the coffee can and then promptly marched outside and took it to a stand of trees to release it. Bye spider!
While in Mexico on an immersion trip meeting with the Sisters of Our Lady of Guadeloupe, Jack and I also captured a family scorpions (mom and babies) we found in our room and threw them over the stone wall into the ravine. At breakfast the next day, we told the Sisters and the rest of our travel-mates about our humane capture of the arachnids. Wide-eyed, the Sisters said, "Oh, next time just keeel them." We all laughed. Then Jack composed a song with a driving bass beat, "Scorpion, O Scorpion - Scorpion don't bite me! Please go to Jaynie's bed ---- instead." The Sisters were greatly amused by this funny song.
Jack taught me about brown recluse spiders - also known as fiddle back spiders down south in Nashville. He said that they were shy and hid from people - thus the name, recluse. However, Jack told me that their bite could cause skin necrosis and cause your flesh to be eaten away down to your bones. Yuck - I had never heard of that! We didn't have such spiders in Iowa. Oh, but we had them in Kansas. When we moved to our 1930's home in Kansas in 1993, Jack pointed out the brown recluse spiders in the garage. Later on, we found them in our home. Killed some of them, caught others and threw them outside but never were bitten. Thank goodness! One of my former LCM students was bitten while attending a wedding in Wichita, Kansas. The bite caused a large wound. I remember Isaac telling me about this in vivid detail. Ish. I sent Isaac picture mail of my bite. He replied that his bite looked the same.
So, on the morning of 8-19-08, when I looked down at my heel and noticed a angry-red, dime sized bite wound, I knew it was bad. By 2:30 that afternoon it was worse. I was feeling nauseous and had a slight fever. Off to the Express Care I went. The doc was surprised and had never seen a bite like that in Minnesota. He sent me away with antibiotics and I thought that would be the end of that. No such luck. Three day later it was bigger and I felt gross.
Off to my regular doc I went. She had practiced medicine in Tennessee and had treated folks with brown recluse spider bites. Said mine looked like theirs - ugh. Two more antibiotics - better and stronger, including one called dapsone for treatment of leprosy. Great.
Not so much. Ten days later on August 30 I was feeling really strange - super strange, feverish, exhausted, fatigued in a way I'd never experienced. What was up? I was almost done with my meds and according to the world of me, I was no better. Something was wrong. It felt like something was trying to shut me down. Little did I know, that's exactly what was happening!
What transpired is too long to tell (I've written at length about this entire ordeal elsewhere). Bottom line: I was succumbing to sepsis and I didn't know it. Jack rushed me to the hospital late Sunday night. Seven hours later I was fighting for my life in the ICU. My body, seeking to fight, search for and destroy the raging infection in my blood, was trying to kill me.
I was told that I had severe sepsis and that I might die. Through the wee hours of the morning of September 1st, by body went through cycles of severe rigors (violent shaking and chills from the high fever). Through my IV's and central line they pumped me full of antibiotics and other medicines to keep my heart from failing and other organs from shutting down. It was awful and, oddly enough through it all, I never lost consciousness. I even kept my sense of humor and joked with the ICU staff. They were amused and told me that most of their other patients can't even talk, much less crack jokes to keep them laughing. Ha ha. But into the middle of the night, nothing was funny any more.
I prayed - a lot. Others prayed, too. I cried. Others cried, too. Later I was told that the nurses and doctors didn't know if I was going to survive. They seemed grim. All they could do was wait. I was determined not to die. I didn't see Jesus, but certainly felt his presence through the night. By the amazing grace of God, through able and angelic nurses and the loving care of family and friends, I survived.
Of course, I lived to tell you about this. I had gained twenty pounds in fluids to keep me alive in the ICU. When I was released from the hospital five days later, I had lost a cumulative total of ten pounds by the time they flushed the fluids out of me. I was a waif and a shell of my former self. Once active in my biking, Aikido, walking and sailing - I could barely walk around in my house. I was ordered to be on medical leave for a month. I was an emotional and a physical mess. I had been to hell and back. It was horrible. When I returned to work, I could barely make it through one worship service. Yet, though I was grateful to be alive, because I could scarcely move, many days I was reduced and rendered to complete depression and utter despair.
It's taken nearly two years to feel almost "normal" again. Today was one of those days where I was suddenly overcome by sheer exhaustion and fatigue. When this happens I have to rest, slow down and sleep. Nothing else helps but that. Thankfully, those days are fewer and farther between - but they still haunt me. As with anyone who survives death, it has given me pause to consider the meaning of my life as well.
During my long recovery, I read a lot about other survivors of severe sepsis. Only about half of us survive. I read about spider bite stories. I searched for ancient wisdom about spiders. As it turns out, others who have survived bites have wondered about its meaning, too.
Spiders differ from insects in having eight legs rather than six and in having the body divided into two parts rather than three. The number eight laid on its side is the symbol for infinity. The number two implies the union of two forces joined together. Together they equal ten. Drop the zero and you are back to the starting point of one. The hidden message of spider is unity...
Recall the date of my bite: 8-18-08
Because spiders are actually very delicate they embody the energy of gentleness. Spiders are not usually aggressive unless they are defending their lives. Moving forward in all situations with a gentle strength is a skill that often needs to be learned for those with this totem. In [hu]mans, the bite of a poisonous spider symbolizes a death, rebirth process. Poison enters the nervous system and the body either transmutes it or falls victim to its venom and dies.
I read Native American stories about Grandmother Spider who is the creative weaver in creation. She represents the gift of writing and calls us to make use of our creativity and weave our dreams into our destinies. I ponder what it means to have transmuted poison. Surely this must be a good thing, right?
I think about spiders a lot as I knit hat after hat, scarf by scarf and blanket and prayer shawl alike. I think not only about the actual physical act of weaving through knitting, but my creative writing, too. This is one of the motivating reasons for this blog and my postings on Facebook. I've heard from folks that my writing is helpful. Others find it amusing; sometimes profound, inspirational and truth-bearing. I hope that's true.
My Aikido friends nicknamed me, Spider Woman. I like that. I don't fear spiders even though I nearly died. If anything, I have a deeper respect and fascination about them. I am still mystified over what it means to live with this spider totem and to bear the humorous tag, Spider Woman. But I do know that life is fragile, life is precious and you just never know when your life might just take a weird-creepy turn into the mysteries of life and death.
So, love God who breathes life into your being, love your dear family, love the children and love your creative-self into being a blessing to all you meet.
Dylan died one year ago today - July 1, 2009. He was almost 18 years old! He was the only dog I had as a "grown-up" and he lived with us since he was just old enough to have been taken from his mom and the rest of the litter. Jack's sister, Linda, picked him out for us from a litter in North Carolina. We had researched all sorts of dogs - lots of them seemed like they would be fun in our family. But one special trait caught our eyes - Schipperkes love to be on boats. They were bred to guard barges in Belgium, the place of their origin. Wow - perfect for us! Jack and I met while sailing, actually while windsurfing. We both loved sailing. Our kids grew up with sailboats and on the water. We needed a dog to join us.
So, our friend, Daphne, picked the tiny puppy up from Linda, boarded a plane and flew to Boca Raton, Florida in February. She brought us a 3-month old little bundle of black, fluffy fur - whom we named - Dylan.
Dylan is Welsh meaning: Son of the Wave, Born near the Sea, Spirit of the Sea. Famous bearers of the name: Welsh poet Dylan Thomas and American folk singer Bob Dylan. People would ask us if we had named him after the poet or the folk singer. We'd say, "Nope, we named him after the Sea." We didn't know if he liked the sea or sailing, but we were willing to take a chance on him and see if Schipperkes' heritage really played out.
Dylan was only five months old when he met the Sun Dolphin. This wasn't her name yet. I don't recall what her name actually was. Jack and I had also done beau coup research on multihull sailboats - catamarans and trimarans - because we were going to purchase one so that Jack could begin a charter sailboat cruise enterprise in south Florida. We looked at so many sailboats until we found the right one: a 25 foot Jim Brown Searunner!
We had to pick the sailboat up on a lake near Orlando and sail the boat up the St. John's River which actually flows north(!) because of the terrain of inland-central Florida. Jack, Daniel, puppy-Dylan and I went to embark on this great adventure. Matt was away in Minnesota visiting his dad over the Easter holiday.
We checked with our vet about what we should do with this little dog on the boat. The vet said that we should get some doggy-sedatives for the pooch. Okay - sounded reasonable. Oy ve - did we ever learn our lesson!
We gave Dylan half of the doggy-drug and he was loopy for almost the rest of our adventure. He staggered around like a drunken pirate - poor lil thing! He slept below deck and was pretty much useless. On the night that a gale force storm kicked up behind us while we were sailing on Lake George (which is still the St. John's River but it's huge at this point, so it's called a lake), we had to throw Dan and Dylan down below! It was horrendously dangerous and we had to test the metal of the soon-to-be-named Sun Dolphin.
The Sun Dolphin performed admirably and was calm and well-behaved according to her new Captain Jack. Her crew - me, the first mate - was perhaps less stellar, or at least not as experienced as the boat. But we survived, one of many sailing survival stories.
Here I become a little stuck in how to describe what sailing means to me. Words fail - pale - even diminish the experience. Then, add to that what it means to sail with one's family - spouse, children and faithful canine and I am at a loss. All I can tell you is this: we experience some of the most exhilarating, the most harrowing, the most tranquil, the most frantic, the most beautiful and the most brutish of times on the Sun Dolphin together. If that doesn't bond a family, I don't know what will. The Sun Dolphin has been our oasis from the craziness of the world, our place of laughter and solitude; our place of community-making and one of adventure.
The Captain tells me tonight that the Sun Dolphin is over forty years old. That is a long time to transport its crew through the the trials and tribulations of life. We have sailed her for almost half of her time in the water - 18 years! He says it's amazing that we've been able to keep her afloat. The old sailor's proverb goes something like this: "A boat is a hole in the water into which you pour all of your money." We don't have that much money to pour into her, so we pour our work, blood, sweat, tears, ingenuity and creativity into to maintaining her beauty and function. Many of our family peeps and friends throughout the years have helped us keep her alive. Thanks, friends and family peeps!
So, I wanted to pay tribute to Dylan and honor his memory. I've written extensively about the things I learned from and loved about him. But I wanted to add that Dylan loved sailing! In many of the photos of Dylan, friends often commented, "He always looks so happy on the boat." That was true. If we asked Dylan if he wanted to, "Go to the boat," he'd jump, twirl and smile just like you'd asked him if he wanted to go for a walk or on a ride in the car.
Dylan loved to go anywhere with us. It really didn't matter. But I think that he felt so at home in his bones on the Sun Dolphin. They both came into our lives together and shaped our family in amazing ways. I hope that sailing with us gave Dylan a sense of freedom, clarity, purpose and joy. He seemed to relish - I mean relish - being on the boat with us. If we helped give him that sense of joy, I am so, so, so very grateful and glad.
Ahoy there Lil Skipper Dylan! Sail the Sirius Skies until we meet again!
Three weeks of Continuing Education after five years of ministry at University Lutheran Church of the Epiphany/Lutheran Campus Ministry...wow! I had taken five days in May 2008 at the Festival of Homiletics in Minneapolis - I loved that! But the time was long overdue...I could feel it in my bones. Pastors are granted two weeks and two Sundays each year for their Continuing Education. A pastor can roll the weeks into other years as the weeks accumulate. It was wonderful to be a student again. I love that, too.
I haven't even been back for a week. Upon my return last on June 22, I learned that there were kerfuffles at my work...interpersonal upsets. So, I set to work on trying to resolve some of the mix ups. This made me weary right away. Sigh. Too much drama is just too much, even for a Drama Therapist!
Speaking of Drama Therapists, did I mention that I was informed by my advisor and friend, Sally Bailey, that upon completion of the Creative Arts Therapies class and the Sociodrama class, I will have all the necessary requirements completed to make my application as a Registered Drama Therapist! This is amazing to me and I was thrilled to learn of this great news!
In answer to the question, What is Drama Therapy?,The FAQ page says: Drama therapy is the intentional use of drama and/or theater processes to achieve therapeutic goals. Drama therapy is active and experiential. This approach can provide the context for participants to tell their stories, set goals and solve problems, express feelings, or achieve catharsis. Through drama, the depth and breadth of inner experience can be actively explored and interpersonal relationship skills can be enhanced. Participants can expand their repertoire of dramatic roles to find that their own life roles have been strengthened.
If you're wondering what does a Drama Therapist do?, A drama therapist first assesses a client's needs and then considers approaches that might best meet those needs. Drama therapy can take many forms depending on individual and group needs, skill and ability levels, interests, and therapeutic goals. Processes and techniques may include improvisation, theater games, storytelling, and enactment. Many drama therapists make use of text, performance, or ritual to enrich the therapeutic and creative process. The theoretical foundation of drama therapy lies in drama, theater, psychology, psychotherapy, anthropology, play, and interactive and creative processes.
So, there you have it. Drama Therapy was recognized in 1979, the year I graduated from Luther College in Decorah, Iowa with degrees in Religion and Psychology. I had been doing the things that I later learned that Drama Therapists have been doing all throughout my ministry. I was inspired to do this by my Religion professor, R. Simon Hanson. He taught Introduction to the Old Testament and he sang, danced and acted out the stories of scripture in class! I had never seen anyone do that before and I loved it! To my creative mind, it seemed to make the stories easier to remember. I've used drama and creative arts in my ministry with children, youth, young adults, older adults and many other groups of people.
When I got to K-State and heard there was this professor who was teaching something called, Drama Therapy. I was intrigued. I had come to experience and create for others, healing moments and encouters in the aforementioned activities and also in worship. So, after much cajoling by my friend and professor, "Doc" Norman Fedder, I registered for the graduate program in Theater with an emphasis in Drama Therapy. I took one class a semester, as per the Lutheran Campus Ministry guidelines for staff in degree programs while working full time.
I took me five years to complete the degree and I graduated in December of 2002 with a Masters in Theatre. At the end of my program I presented my Master's project: I wrote, co-directed and performed in my one-woman show, a comedic auto-drama, called FROCKED! It was one of the hardest things I've ever done! I had to rehearse by myself in the haunted Purple Masque Theatre at K-State, reciting my lines over and over to empty chairs. I felt silly and wondered why I ever thought that this would be fun. I memorized over an hour and a half of monologue complete with movement, blocking, actions, power-point projections, music and singing.
Now, as I'm at the end of my certification for Drama Therapy and on the threshold of new adventures, I started thinking about more ways to use my gifts, skills and commitment to the healing power of drama. One of my classes requires us to write a "fictitious" grant request. I thought about the Lilly Endowment foundation that provides grants for various religious purposes so I check the site out to learn if one of their programs might work. I was amazed again.
The Lilly Endowment for Religionsponsors a National Clergy Renewal Program. This program recognizes the importance and necessity for busy pastors to have an opportunity to take an extended break for renewal and refreshment. Usually we call this a Sabbatical Time. Their description of the life and work of a pastor gave me pause for reflection:
At the center of the congregation is the pastor. Spiritual guide, scholar, counselor, preacher, administrator, confidant, teacher, pastoral visitor and friend, a pastor has a privileged position and performs many roles. In season and out, a pastor is called upon to lead communities to the life-giving waters of God.
The job is demanding, and pastors perform their duties among a dizzying array of requests and expectations. Congregations are not always easy places, and the responsibilities can sometimes wear down the best pastors. It is not a job for the faint-hearted, but requires a balance of intelligence, love, humility, compassion and endurance. Most importantly, it demands that pastors remain in touch with the source of their life and strength. Like all people of faith, good pastors need moments to renew and refresh their energies and enthusiasm to determine again "what makes their hearts sing."
As I read and reread these words, I was grateful. I was grateful that there is a group of people who named, understand and recognize the complex, demanding, dizzying array of requests and expectations that pastors live with. In my case, I serve both as a congregation pastor and as a campus pastor. This amplifies and intensifies the complexities in ways that few individuals comprehend or understand.
I'm saddened when some well-meaning (and some not-so-well-meaning) folks think that all I do is deal with a few congregation members and that the campus ministry should be kind of like dealing with a youth group. Sigh. It's frustrating when some refuse to understand that the nature of campus ministry and my work with college students is very intense, highly relational, fast-paced, full of late nights, at times grueling in its academic rhythm and sometimes walking through the deep spiritual valleys and mountains with young adults as they discern their way of faith. Because the nature of campus ministry is this way, the ELCA (and other thoughtful, wise denominations) has set apart certain pastors and ministers to do only this: campus ministry.
One of the former LCMers at SCSU from long ago returned to ULCE a few years back. She is an amazing person. Our backgrounds are nothing alike, but we share this love and esteem for LCM. She says LCM saved her life. I believe this and know that it's most certainly true. I've seen the ministry of LCM save other lives, I've been blessed to have been part of that life-saving enterprise and have celebrated with others when, once they were lost and then they were found and found themselves embraced by the abiding, enduring love of God in Christ Jesus.
This friend of mine wrote some reflections after the 15th Anniversary of ULCE in November of 2009. I thought that her words were profound since she has the broad and long ranging perspective from one who was a college student in LCM at Saint Cloud State University as well as being a "grown-up" member of what had become the LCM and ULCE community.
I had not heard the thoughts expressed by anyone else in the congregation:
But what I don't understand is the way "we" don't show respect to our pastor(s) that I see in other churches. Is it because we are small? Or is it the same in bigger churches where you just don't notice it as much because it's not so glaring? Or is it the kind of church we are or is it the town? The town people have never liked the students in general. So, when you put the two together you get dislike. ULCE appears on the outside to be a church that is accepting of everyone. But at times I see our church stuck and not knowing whether it wants to move forward or stay stuck; to move on and grow into the life force we could be...I believe in us as a church body. We, all of us, just need to figure out what direction we want our church to go. What needs to be remembered is that it is the students that have brought us together in the first place.
I have thought about this a lot since my friend wrote this and since she read it aloud at a meeting of our congregational members and students. There was this pause; this silence after she read her reflections - as if no one could think of a thing to say. People just sat there. And then the leaders of the event and process, sensing the moment and not knowing what to say either, moved the process on and that was that. But something happened that day. There was a naming and an acknowledgement in what she said. Still, since that day it doesn't seem as though folks have gotten to the place - exactly - to figure out what direction we want our church to go.
I have been in prayer about this ministry before I arrived here and ever since that time. The treatment of pastor(s) is a mystery and my guess is that it's been this way for a long time before I arrived. Why? I have no clue. All I know is that I need to stay true to my calling, what I know, what is good, right and blessed in the sight of God.
So, I am going to center on my calling and that which gives life, hope, joy, peace, healing and faith. I have no time for that which drags on my soul or the soul of others. Life is too precious. Life is too short. Life is too grand to do otherwise. So, join with me and if this is not your calling -- let go.
