That’s right – I’m going to seminary! Technically, I’m going to the Graduate School of Theology at Northwest Nazarene University, but it’s still seminary by definition!
I graduated with a Master of Science in Management from Indiana Wesleyan University in 2009, so going back to school is more than a little daunting. This time, I’m pursuing a Master of Arts in Pastoral Ministry. It’s a 40 credit program that takes about 2.5 years. I’m in orientation now (where I have to write a research paper due in about 10 days), and I start my first official class – Old Testament Interpretation – on January 9th.
I’m both terrified and thrilled. My ultimate goal is ordination in the Church of the Nazarene and, God willing, a career as a chaplain.
I’m struggling to blog these days, even though I have a lot of words in my head and things I want to get typed out and posted. I’m in the middle of yet another Rheumatoid Arthritis flare and am struggling to walk – for the second time this year – so I’m not in the best headspace. BUT it’s Christmastime (specifically, it’s Christmas Eve by the time I’m getting this posted), and I will always seek to find the joy in this beautiful season.
First and foremost, though, I’m mourning my wonderful grandmother, Lila, who passed away on Sunday, December 4, at 88 years old. I was able to finally go home to Indiana in mid-November (more on that later), and I got to see Mamaw while I was there. She was almost immobile, struggling to walk, and was so frail and weak, but her dementia allowed her to have a “good” day and she knew who I was, which was a blessing. She went into the hospital the day after I flew home, and then she moved into hospice a week later due to renal failure. She passed away peacefully with my mom, grandfather, and uncle by her side. I was able to attend her funeral via livestream, which I appreciated. Mamaw was from a different generation – deferring to my grandpa for decisions and going along with them even if she disagreed – but she was a model of the kind of person to be. Kind. Caring. Loving. Gentle. Addicted to Dairy Queen ice cream 😄. A excellent cook. A woman of deep. Deep faith. She was a lovely human, and I will miss her forever. I also can’t stop thinking about my grandfather, who is now alone for the first time in almost seven decades. They would’ve celebrated their 70th wedding anniversary in late January.
Second, I’m thinking a lot about how my grandparents were so influential, even without my realizing it, in choosing the Church of the Nazarene as our denomination. My grandparents were Baptists when my mom was a kid and even when I was born, but they joined the Nazarene church well over 30 years ago now. I remember it causing a minor scandal in the family at the time since nobody really knew what the Nazarenes believed and assumed they were “holy rollers,” but my grandparents found happiness and spiritual support at their Nazarene church. Part of the reason I explored the denomination was due to their influence. So now that Mamaw is gone, I’m feeling blessed and honored that this, too, is my denomination and where we’ve found happiness with deep spiritual support.
Finally – it’s Christmas Eve! Here’s this year’s Christmas tree (pretty similar to last year). Despite our sadness, I still very much love this holiday and the beauty of the season!
I have some exciting news to share, and lots of thoughts stored up, so I hope to blog more in 2023, although I’m about to get A LOT busier (more to come!)
Let’s chat about bibles. The purpose of this post is NOT help you discern what translation is the best one because 1) My opinions are my own and; 2) Let’s be honest – the BEST bible translation is whichever one makes you pick up your bible, open it up, and start reading. Instead, I want to talk about bibles, in general. I have inadvertently started bible collection. It wasn’t on purpose, but I’ve discovered that I love exploring different translations and bibles that are focused on a specific topic.
I’ve been in painful health sojourn lately, and while it physically broke me, my cries to God were heard. Not in the way I hoped, but we don’t always get the answers to the questions we ask….
Backstory first, of course: I was diagnosed with Psoriatic Arthritis, an auto-immune disorder, in January 2015. In the subsequent 7+ years, I have only been in a brief remission once, have damage in dozens (or even hundreds of joints), have failed off every medicine available out there, and have had my diagnosis changed to the following: Seronegative Rheumatoid Arthritis (RA), Pseudo-RA, and Pseudo-Gout (only with calcium crystals instead of uric acid).
On this final day of 2021 (while mourning the loss of Betty White), I’m posting for the first time in months. Why? This is my post to finally “come clean.”
You see, we celebrated our first Christmas in six years just a few days ago.
Sitting in my inbox is a link that, once clicked, will take me to the documents to sign an offer on a house. It’s been sitting there since last night, and I’ve opened it a few times, but I just can’t click the buttons to start signing. And it’s breaking my heart!
I’m not going to lie – this Christmas season was hellish for me. For one, I obviously don’t celebrate the holiday and when it’s shoved down my throat everywhere, I get irritated. Anyone who says there’s a “war on Christmas” and that people don’t say “Merry Christmas” anymore has never been a Jew in December. I used to respond with, “Thanks, I don’t celebrate it,” but now I just smile, nod, and walk away. It’s not my holiday, it’s not something I believe in, but I know people are just trying to be kind and spread holiday cheer so I move on. It’s not a battle I feel like fighting.
But mostly, this season was horrendous because I used to celebrate Christmas and so many of my childhood memories are wrapped up in the holiday. Now, when I think about those memories, I think of my father and my younger brother and the spike of pain that stabs me through the heart is almost unbearable. At every turn, I’m reminded of loss this time of year. It makes for dark times during a dark period on the calendar (at least in the Pacific Northwest!)Continue reading →
Services start at 10am and they end around 6pm (this is for our shul (synagogue), many others will have different schedules), with small breaks in between. Those who are able should also fast from sundown the night before until the fast is “broken” after Havdalah (the service that ends “holy time” celebrated at the end of Shabbat and holidays) at the “end” of Yom Kippur. This means that a person is sitting through hours of services while thirsty and hungry. (Full disclosure: I was unable to fast this year because my blood sugar is very wonky right now, and I’ve had far too many issues/episodes lately. So, I ate lightly and small to regulate my blood sugar.)
Yom Kippur is also beautiful. It is edifying to come together as a community, pray with other Jews the same prayers being said throughout the Jewish world. The sanctuary is packed to the gills, familiar and new faces both plentiful. We start at the beginning of the Machzor (our prayer book used for High Holy Days) and at the end of the day, we will have reached the end, some 600+ pages later.
Our Machzor, or prayer book, Mishkan HaNefesh (used by synagogues affiliated with Reform Judaism.)
The Ramblings of Rob Prince, a follower of Jesus, husband, dad, lead pastor at Flint Central Church of the Nazarene and author of "Chronic Pain: Finding Hope in the Midst of Suffering"
I am just an ordinary woman with ordinary thoughts living an ordinary life. But through the grace of Jesus Christ, there is beauty in the ordinary. Look with me at the ordinary, that we might see His beauty.
The Ramblings of Rob Prince, a follower of Jesus, husband, dad, lead pastor at Flint Central Church of the Nazarene and author of "Chronic Pain: Finding Hope in the Midst of Suffering"
I am just an ordinary woman with ordinary thoughts living an ordinary life. But through the grace of Jesus Christ, there is beauty in the ordinary. Look with me at the ordinary, that we might see His beauty.
Sitting in my inbox is a link that, once clicked, will take me to the documents to sign an offer on a house. It’s been sitting there since last night, and I’ve opened it a few times, but I just can’t click the buttons to start signing. And it’s breaking my heart!
Life on Wild Hare Farm 