It has been about a month since I posted anything on Facebook, and much longer than that since I have written anything in this space. I needed to get small for a bit, to focus on the movement of the Spirit and to listen. So many of you have reached out to me to check on me, wondering if I am ok...worrying a bit that I have lost my Jesus or am falling apart. I thank you for your hearts filled with love for me. The answer is yes to both of those things....a bit. Let me explain.
The Jesus I have always loved is one that marks the world with a call to deeply connected community, a Savior that has no strings attached to the unwavering love poured out for all of humanity. I came to understand this Jesus back in confirmation class when I learned that faith was much less about following some prescribed rules and more about being transformed into something beyond our limited understanding of the God potential within each of us. This understanding of Jesus was engrained in me by the people of my small United Methodist church, the one I had literally grown up in. I was ordained an Elder in the UMC exactly ten years (to the day, I think) after I had been confirmed in that little church that had become a crucial part of my identity. While I had no idea when I left for college that two years later I would be struggling to embrace God's call to ministry, I did know that my spiritual life was something that needed tending while I was there. God has repeatedly surrounded me with the right people at the right time. In college, God-with-skin-on looked like our campus chaplain, Vern, and the local pastor at the UMC, Wayne. God also looked like the handsome Catholic priest who taught some of our classes, like the friends who encouraged me to trust that yes, God's call was real, even though I felt so inadequate.
Inadequacy has been a theme running through my head since before I even knew what it was doing to me. As a student athlete this feeling led me to work so hard to excel in sports, to get good grades, to be in the school plays and student government...as a pastor this thread of thinking fueled the mentality that nothing was ever quite enough, leading to more events, more self-criticism, expectations that I could never meet. This Jesus that called me to make sure people grasped onto the breadth and depth of grace and love, became unattainable for me, wrapped up in people-pleasing success, and fearful, numbers-driven leadership. This Jesus was embedded inside the denominational system for which I had sold out as a child. Don't get me wrong, I am a United Methodist in the deepest parts of my understanding of who I am. I believe in prevenient, justifying and sanctifying grace and their powerful movement in every step of our lives. I believe in a connectional church that can change the world because it works together to eradicate diseases like malaria, a church that is on the front lines of disaster relief, a church that embodies Micah's call to act justly, love mercy, and walk humbly. The depth of my broken-heartedness at the actions of my people at the last General Conference caused me to question not only what I represent as a UMC pastor, but also who I am and who I want to be in this world. I can't serve a system at the expense of my integrity as a Jesus-follower. I can't fight slippery battles with people who continue to use Scripture as a weapon, declaring God's word to be literal though it was never intended to be that way. I don't know how to handle attitudes of chosen ignorance that support racist policies, harming children and the oppressed, in the name of upholding white-capitalist-Jesus.
So yes...I have lost my Jesus. The nice-tidy, follow-the-rules-and-get-to-heaven, God is good all the time, in-the-box Jesus. I can't play that game anymore, because I have far more questions these days than I do answers. Losing my Jesus has led me to fall apart, to crack open the success-driven, ambitious pastor that I have been for the last 15 years, the woman who chose career and meeting unattainable expectations over nearly everything else. And in the unravelling and questioning God is boldly present, and I am learning to embrace who I fully am with grace and joy. It is hard and ugly, and a lot of people in my life just won't understand, and it's scary trusting in the space of unknowing...but what I have begun to embrace, for the first time in my life, is the profound power of being loved. I continue to wake up each morning filled with gratitude.
The call to do whatever I can to foster encounters with Christ, to develop and engage people spiritually, to lead and sing and praise...that call rings loudly in my ears. This month away from the pulpit, spent doing work that is uncomfortable and challenging has only clarified God's call for me. And again, God has surrounded me with people that are grace-filled, genuine and kind, friends in every sense of the word.
In the true spirit of making the best of this year, I have accepted a chaplaincy residency as of last week. By the end of August I will find my way down to the University of Alabama-Birmingham where I will spend the year serving as a chaplain at the UAB Hospital, being stretched to learn and embrace more of my authentic self and what it means to live out this call in a new and different context. I have just a couple weeks to find a place to live, deal with my stuff, and find a foster home for two of the most amazing kitties on the planet. Scary? You bet. But the thing is, God is in the scary.
I continue to pray for my beloved UMC, because there is no other place I want to serve. I continue to pray that the Christian community will stop worrying so much about expanding hell's reach and sending people there, and start focusing more on expanding the reach of life-changing love, as exemplified in the daily life and conversations of Jesus. God is not done with us yet, and there is always room for hope....always.
So, my dear friends, all is well. I deeply appreciate your prayers and concern, please know that I am praying for you, too.
Let's love like Jesus.
Devon
