myers-briggs results

Some of my loyal readers have been holding their breaths a long time for this. Well the wait is over. I got the results back today. At the end of last term I had to fill out this test to determine how I respond to the world. Now y'all know how I feel about these things so I won't go into it. Here's the result: E/INTJ

E/I: I am equally introverted and extroverted. (see I told you)
N: I find things out through intuition which shows me the meanings, relationships, and possibilities beyond the information I get from my senses. I see the big picture and get the patterns.
T: I look for logical sequences of a particular choice. I'm objective. I weigh and analyze the evidence. I'm good at finding what's wrong.
J: I live a planned, orderly life. I like closure and to have things settled.

The scores were very close across the board. The introvert/extrovert thing was equal. Everything else was unequal by not more than a few points. So basically I'm only marginally N, T, and J.

So there you have it. Enjoy.

in the line of duty

Can you believe I got hurt at work!? Of all the jobs I've done that put me in harms way, I get injured at the library. I was opening the lift door and it got away from me pulling my fingers up into the door housing. It pulled right up to the first knuckle. "#*!!?%^&!" Then I was stuck because the door wouldn't come down. I had to stand on the lip. Then I had to do the embarassing but necessary task of informing of my supervisor. Nothing's broken, but damn it hurts. That happened almost two hours ago and it still hurts. No, there is no hazard pay at the library, but there should be a purple heart -- or purple library card or something. It would match my purple fingers. (It must have happened at Seabury: that's the school color.) I was going to write about a particularly thought-provoking hymn we sang in chapel today. But forget it now. ...stupid lift doors.

got it

I went to the Chicago Open Door Church this morning to experience their Sunday worship. There were eleven of us altogether. The age ranges were from 4 to about 60. I and the four-year-old were the only two females, and she didn't talk much. She did, however, find a shiny blue glass bead which she happily showed me. It was very nice.

The service began with a check-in and feedback about last weekend's convention in Arkansas. We sang three contemporary Christian songs (of which I was totally unfamiliar), accompanied by a CD with the lyrics posted with an overhead projector. I was intorduced briefly, then a guest speaker from the Marin Foundation was introduced. He gave his presentation on the Foundation, and the day's preaching. After that we stood up and gathered in a circle for the blessing of a loaf of bread and a cup of grape juice (there are a number of AA members who regularly attend). There was a final thanksgiving and we broke for a pot-luck lunch. The food was very good, as was the company.

I chatted with Corey for quite a long time about his recent return to church, his family, and their difficulties with the way he expresses his faith. I spoke briefly with Earnest who is from Hong Kong and has been in the US for only a few years. I also talked with Bob, who came with the 4 y.o., about his history with the Open Door Church. In all I spent about two hours there.

As I was preparing to leave, Bob presented me with a gift. Each new visitor receives a Bible: a handsome volume of the KJV. Bob likes it because it doesn't use the word "homosexual." He was very proud to present it to me, and had even printed my name in the inside cover. It's a very nice gift, which I accepted graciously.

I asked Pastor Bob (different Bob) if he had an idea when he would make his decision about a Pastoral Intern. He said, "I already made it! You're it." I told him the Dean wants to chat with him and he said no problem.

There's quite a lot of work that can be done here. I'm already thinking of things I'd like to try. It looks like practically anything goes. They're all really happy to be there, and excited to learn new things. What do you all think?

interesting opportunity

While K. was doing her job search, she came across an ad for a "Pastoral Intern" in a local paper. She handed it to me last week. I checked out the web site and called the number just out of curiosity. The Open Door Community Church of Chicago is a recent church plant. They are one of two satellites of a church in Arkansas. Bob, the pastor, is looking for help in his liturgy and also in general pastoral care of the members. We met for an interview last night.

This will be Pastor Bob's third church plant. They started last November in a rented space with a congregation of 4. Now they're up to 15. Next year at this time they would like to be 30-35. The previous plants are still functioning today. He has significant experience in evangelization, including a radio program at one time, and has been a Christian educator for many age levels. Since there have been a number of people interested in this position, and the ad runs for another two weeks, he was thinking of starting an intern class of some kind and saw me as a teaching assistant. I am the first and thusfar only female to interview for this position. The position can be open-ended, but he'd like at least 6 months of Sundays. He would be willing to do 3-out-of-4 Sundays per month so that I can maintain my relationship with my current parish.

I told him I'm interested in learning from him how to plant and grow a church from scratch. Also I want more experience in congregational leadership and development. I see this as a kind of lab work for my ministry in the Episcopal Church. I want to be able to pick his brain for his experiences in this important ministry and see how they work in my own context. I want to try new techniques of outreach. Most of all I want to GROW them, both in their numbers and in their depth of spirituality and connectedness with God. I know I can do this.

I spoke with my rector back home about this as well as my academic advisor here to make sure I wasn't doing something terribly wrong in the eyes of the Episcopal Church. This morning I spoke with the Dean of the seminary. All three support this initiative. The Dean wants to meet Pastor Bob and check him out for himself. It's good to have someone watching my back.

I've stated the positives as my hopes for this iternship, and would include Bob's offer to fill out whatever paperwork is necessary to give this internship some academic credit. Among the negatives would be if this church turns out to be a fly-by-night outfit that disappears after all the work I put into it. It would be a real bummer to find out it's some kind of freakshow-cult-wierdo-factory. General abuse of my gifts would be bad along with inappropriate expectations. There's no Bishop or canons here to keep things above-board so I'll have to watchout for myself. At any rate, it's an unpaid internship, so I can jump ship at any time. I really hope it works out in the positive, though. This could be a really, really great experience.

mirror, mirror on the wall -- reflection time

I learned an awful lot in my time in CPE. A lot of it was simply being able to articulate what has always been there.

I'm rough around the edges. I've always known this, but never put it to words. It's a part of me that I believe is a great strength in ministry. True, I put up with a lot of crap in the name of playing devil's advocate (hmmm... maybe I need a better way to put that...); but there's a clear line of delineation between putting up and pushing back. Problem is, and this is one of the rough edges, I push back like a freight train. But the positive is that I can maintain a clear view of the big picture. I see the importance of getting one's hands dirty, and am irritated by people who refuse because it's messy. I came to a great theological truth this summer: theology is messy -- because living is messy. Unless Paul Tillich or Walter Bruggeman have anesthesia, people in pain could give a rat's ass who they are or what they have to say. Leadership is crucial in this time of church fluxuation, but we musn't let out collars get too tight, lest we suffocate ourselves. Jesus made mud out of his own spit. That's pretty dirty; pretty rough. I'm not afraid to get muddy.

Also, it's vital to be able to laugh at one's self. Not a single one of us is all that important in the big picture. If we are part of the body of Christ, anatomically speaking, the body can survive with many members amputated. A Christian radio commentator I heard when I was in Virginia asked the question, which body part are you? He saw himself as an elbow because he understood his ministry was in "elbowing" people. I see myself as that hangnail you get on the pinky finger of your left hand. You know the one that catches on your pocket. A hangnail is really insignificant, especially there, but can really make itself known. It can easily be pinched off and discarded. God hasn't pinched me off yet. Who would claim to be something vital?

I was described as a bridge by one of my CPE colleagues. She's right. I dig the smells and bells and recoil at the sight of a tambourine in church. (The tambourine in church was ruined for me at an early age.) Then again, I see the intense beauty of a simple service where an overturned box in an alley serves as an "altar" and the "choir" sings with a drunken raspy voice. My immediately family spans three generations. My father served in the Navy in the 40s, by eldest brother was of draft age for Vietnam and sisters were flower-children, and my brother and I are Gen-Xers. We all get together as a whole family only a couple times a year (if that), and we can all speak the same language. I spent some time in a school for the deaf in Beverly, MA. I saw middle-schoolers signing with retired people; wonderful, long conversations. It seemed quite natural to me, but honestly, where do you see this kind of intergenerational interaction in everyday life? I don't speak any other language but English, but within that language many languages are spoken. I tried to explain that to a Bishop once, but I don't think he got it. I can tell you about the esthetic beauty of a spinner and then discuss the impact of Bunraku on the Children's Television Workshop. I do see myself at the cross-roads of many apparantly disparate things. I like it here. We did a lot of work with the Enneagram this summer. That's a kind of personality type selector. I think I talked with you about this before. Anyways, I find it very uncomfortable to be put into a single category when I can identify with all of them -- and have, at one point or another. Yes, I quite like being a bridge.

So after one unit of CPE I can go more boldly into whatever ministry the Spirit is leading me, knowing a little more about who I am. Of course I'll always be a pirate, adventurer, artist, mystic, nerd, EMT, painter, welder, snorkeler, rigger, chef, fencer, ...

Kathryn got the job!

Yay! K. came home today and announced she got the job she wanted! It's got benefits. It's not too far away. It pays well. The hours are good. She can continue to do the work she's already doing which she loves. Thank you God.

What th' ?

I've been getting comments that ask the reader to go to that person's blog or web site. I've come to learn that this is a form of spam. Go to these links if you like. You're on your own. You can encourage spamming by patronizing them or you can stem the tide of junk mail by ignoring them. I've deleted a couple of these comments already, but they just keep comming. To that end, I've activated a word thingy that you have to retype to get your comment posted. It's a security thing. I dunno, let's see if it works. You'll know it when you see it.

new work study

I quit the campus bookstore a couple weeks ago due to recurring headaches. After just a little time there I'd leave with a pounding headache in my forehead and behind my eyes. I'm convinced it's because of the computer monitors and bad flouresent lighting. After my first term here the same thing was happening after a day of classes in bad lighting followed by hours of computer work. I got myself glasses with a no-glare coating and it helps tremendously. When CPE ended I picked up some hours in the book store and the headaches came back again, even with the glasses. So I quit. Now I work in the library.

My job there is reshelving books and I have to say it fits my personality quite well. Order, efficiency, neatness: it's so me. The trouble is, people take out really interesting books. It makes putting them away difficult because I start to page through them. Then there are the titles next to them on the shelves -- so interesting. I get tempted to check them out so I put them on my cart and take them with me. Then I remember all the books I have at home that I need to finish before classes start. Then I have to reshelve them again when I change my mind. This pattern can make for a very long day. Today's distractions were about postmodern Christianity and multimedia preaching. This is a change from the usual distractions of scriptural analyses. (I've got my eye on a shelf full of books on 1 & 2 Corinthians.)

As I've said before, so many books, so little time. But hey, no more headaches, better hours, more money*, I lucked out.

*Relatively speaking, of course. I used to make a ton of scratch, which I miss more than I can say. I try not to think about it.

Roz update: "Express Yourself"

Thank you Madonna, Roz has been "expressed." I think of that song every time Roz has to get her anal glands expressed. The vet said she really needed it. Her paw chewing is due to allergies for which we can get an OTC med. Still, though, she continues to exhibit behavioral anomalies. I think we didn't transition her well to on-the-block living. All of a sudden she's surrounded by other dogs and people all the time. Also difficult for her is Kathryn's work schedule which hasn't equilibriated yet, nor has mine. With all that put together I think Roz is just overstimulated. We're going to buckle down on the training, limit the time she spends playing with other dogs and people, and really try to put her on a more predictable schedule. She works really well with schedules. Also, I'm beginning to think she wasn't socialized with other dogs when she was a puppy. Given the option, she'd rather be in the company of people than other dogs. We're only going to let her out if there are only one or two other dogs in the yard. In two weeks classes start again for me, and by then K. will have gotten her daily routine closer to set. Then Roz can express herself in better ways.

Roz isn't well

Our poor Roz hasn't been herself lately. We've got a vet appointment later today. She's been gnawing at her paws for a few days and there are raw areas. We put antibiotic on them and her bootie to keep them clean while they heal, but she keeps going after her other feet. Yesterday we took her to the groomer thinking what she was going after were fur mats. She's still licking her feet. Now it looks like she's got to get her anal gland expressed. I hadn't noticed but the base of her tail is also raw from licking. This always seems to happen after a grooming. I don't understand why this happens. Poor pup, she's so uncomfortable.

She's had a stressful few weeks. We moved to a place with more dogs than she's ever had before to play with (or disagree with). Kathryn's schedule is in flux due to her job changes and she's away most of the day. My schedule keeps me home more now than ever. She's normally very good at adjusting to changes. All of these things put together makes for a stressed out dog.

The coming weekend will be very busy for both me and Kathryn so we won't be able to spend a lot of time recouping with Roz. I hope she's okay. I'm sure she'll be fine, but I hate to see her in such discomfort. I want her to be well enough for our weekly quick trip to the farmers market on Saturday.

Our President is a crappy leader

I shouldn't need to say more than that. But I will. He managed to get his Supreme Court Justice nominee to be a pall bearer, but he can't get relief organized for the Gulf Coast. Great legacy W. Thanks a lot. Maybe if he blamed Katrina on Al Qaeda he could get his act together.

Don't get me started.

counterpoint

The scenes from New Orleans are troubling to say the least. I was particularly angered by the looting shown on television the other day. A man was boldly walking out of a store with a large TV in his arms. When he saw the news camera he just smiled and went on his way. Meanwhile, people were still making their way to the Superdome, which I understand is unlivable, just to get food to survive the day. Where is God in this? Where is hope?

Then it occurred to me that the looter may have a better grasp on hope than the refugees in the Dome. Where some people have abandoned their homes and submit themselves to a long bus ride to a far away place for shelter, the looter remains behind. The TV he carried out represents his hope, his faith, his belief that power will be restored, he will have have a place to put that TV to watch it, and it will show him something beyond the devastation of his city. The looter is not living in the present trouble. He's living in the future. His future is hopeful, positive, and prosperous.

Isn't that what we're supposed to take away from the Gospels? That our present troubles are not what God intends for us? I wonder if the Apostles felt the same kind of devastation in the upper room following the crucifixion of Jesus, and were similarly shocked by Mary's first report of His resurrection. How could she deign to do such a thing as to interrupt their grief?

The looter is still a criminal for stealing, and I'm not trying to compare Mary to a looter, but what if we look beyond the surface. Can we find God there? Can we find hope?

MA 5788HX no more

We reregistered our car to Illinios. I removed my beloved Massachusetts plates and replaced them with Land of Lincolns. I still can't part with my number. It's hard to part with those plates. They've been with me through many cars.

I first got the tags for the '88 Chevy Nova. Remember that one? It was kind of like driving around in my own coffin it was so unsafe. It was so close to the ground it was almost like slithering rather than driving. Later I couldn't drive it in the rain. It would stall out. When I came to a stop I had to put it into neutral and keep my foot on the gas pedal to keep the engine going. It got so bad even a light mist would stall it. I dreaded puddles, and never used the windshield washer. Happy to see the Chevy go.

I turned it in for a Kia. What was I thinking?! "Kia" translated to English from Korean means "crap." The only thing going for it was a CD player. But then that started to go. I'd be listening to a really great song and just when it got to the best part I'd push the volume up button and the track would start back at the beginning again. The spring broke at the weld from cold-lapping (a welding term that means there was no connection between the weld metal and the base metal), in other words, crappy welding. The crappy alternator untimely gave up the ghost at a busy intersection and I came to a rolling stop. There's just not enough room to list the crappiness of a '98 Kia Sportage.

Then came my beloved Subaru (insert choirs of angels singing). I love my sweet 'Ester more than chocolate. My only wish is that it could be red. I spent three or so hours washing and waxing it last week. She's beautiful again. And now she's registered in IL. I'm keeping my MA plates, at least one. "5788HX" will adorn the bench outside our apartment door that welcomes visitors to our home.