Note: for those of you looking for the beautiful pictures, for those of you who believe blogging should only be “nice” and “gentle” and “uplifting” this post is not for you. Don’t read any further. I want to believe, that even in the dark moments of our lives, in the grief, and in the despair that we are still loved and beauty still exists. But, I know that not everyone is willing to dive deep with me. If that’s the case for you, no worries.I promise to have beautiful pictures tomorrow. I promise to entertain later.
For the rest of you: this is another “longish” post. Don’t say you weren’t warned.
Commencement.
Some of you are newer readers and probably aren’t aware that I graduated from Seminary in December. I opted to not attend the commencement ceremonies which were held sometime this month (last weekend?). Frankly, I’ve blocked the dates. I was sent invitations I could pass out, but as I wasn’t going I promptly threw them into the recycling bin with only a passing glance at the specifics. It’s of no consequence, really. But as you can imagine from the tone of those last few sentences, I carry wounds from the experience that are still with me.
I’ve not written a great deal about my time at seminary. It’s difficult. What little I’ve written is painful reading. No need to schlog through the archives looking for my angst. What it boils down to, with a little bit of perspective (not much, as it was only 6 months ago and I am still raw, raw, raw), is that I didn’t belong in Seminary and I knew it. I wasn’t called to be a minister, I’m not going into “full time ministry” (a term I bristle at, because every person has a calling to be their best selves: doing so ministers to those around you–we are all ministers of this amazing grace the Universe pours down on us!), I am not willing or able or inclined or in any way amenable to supporting a system I think is broken. In my core I knew this going in, but I went anyhow. My reasons for doing so are no longer relevant. However, this decision to point my nose in a direction that was patently wrong for me spelled the worst kind of disaster. I have scars on my soul. They don’t go away.
You should know, that I’m deeply addicted to tradition and ceremony–I hum pomp and circumstance in my sleep. It’s not just my genetics, although I think there is something to being a displaced Southern girl that makes me cling tightly to those identity markers. It’s something about telling the story again, in your own words. Walking the journey again, with your own bare feet that is beautiful. It binds us to the past in ways that make the future possible. We are connected, by virtue of repetition to something larger than ourselves. And I’m partial to this construct. I want it. I crave it. I’ve been seduced by the sounds of those who went before me laughing, singing, dreaming of their futures. And I’ve spent a lifetime imagining the moment, when I would complete the ritual; heavy robes that feel weightless, hood gently placed onto my shoulders, eyes lifted skyward on a bright May morning. Commence! Go forward! Begin again, live!
How do we begin again when we didn’t properly end? We do, though, don’t we? Perhaps closure is over-rated. Or perhaps, we find different ways of closing books without writing final chapters.
You should also know that I had the option to go to Commencement. IZ has spent the winter asking me, “You sure you don’t want to drive down and walk with everyone?” Nope! I’ve steadfastly denied any assertions about my particular weakness for ceremony. “You sure you don’t need to do this for just you?” Nope! It’s hard to put into words that make any sense, except to say, that while this is my moment… it isn’t. I wanted something different from my education. It is not 4 years I wish to commemorate. And yes, it’s probably my last shot at striding across a stage and getting a diploma (an image I’m far too invested in!) it’s just not right. It’s not the dream, this sadness was never part of my plan, and the mistake I made all those years ago was moving forward. I’m not making that mistake again. I didn’t change course when I could have. That doesn’t mean I have to keep at this debacle just because it’s expected!
This is the part in the story where the tone changes and I get hopeful. I’m well trained as a preacher; sermons are supposed to drag you to a point of recognition, where you feel the deep need of grace, and then magically grace appears. It’s slight of hand, so don’t be fooled.
Which brings me to this gift. While I knew I didn’t want to commence, I also knew I couldn’t walk away without some sort of commemoration. Some way of marking time, some way of writing an end, if condensed. I settled on a print by He Qi that has particular meaning for me. IZ graciously purchased it for me and I’ve finally gotten around to having it framed. The image is of the story of Jonah and his mammoth fish.
Of course, of all the prophets in the Hebrew Scriptures, I would identify with Jonah. He, too, ran into a solution that he knew wasn’t right. He ran to the oceanside. He ran onto a boat and set sail for Tarshish—as far away from God as he could fathom. And when he could run no further God hurled a mighty storm at his ship that threatened the life of all on board. In a desperate attempt to sooth the winds raging hell against them, Jonah is thrown overboard. Into a raging sea that then calms. Into the depths. Into a death he expects.
Except, the Universe is not done with Jonah. In a moment of genius that we only wish we could muster in despair, the Universe sends along a large fish to swallow Jonah.
MY GOD THE NERVE! Some rescue. To sit in rotting guts of a fish. You can’t deny the moxie of the Universe! And Jonah, fully aware that he had ran toward death and yet the Universe had met him with life, begins to sing. In the belly of a whale, he rejoices. And in one last comedic moment, one last twist, Jonah finds his salvation swimming in a pool of vomit on a foreign shore.
Salvation is not always serene. Sometimes, there is safe passage in the belly of a very large fish. We may be uncomfortable in our circumstances. We may even despair for our lives—but we are standing at thresholds of change. Sometimes, the very things that threaten to destroy us are the vehicles of change necessary for us to commence with living. We do not have to be defined by the disaster that swirls around us, even as we are formed by it. We can sing.
It is at the ending we start anew. We commence. We move forward, we begin again. And for all the grief that the past 4 years brought I’m moving forward too. It’s changed me, but not necessarily for the worse. Like Jonah, I’ve been swimming in my own saline, and I’m ready for a drier shore—even if I didn’t get there by the most direct path. I may not be walking across a stage to receive a diploma, but I’m not standing still either. I just opted for different kind of commencement.
I will sally forth. And I expect to meet the Universe along the way.
So well written. Thank you for sharing your thoughts. There’s no doubt you surely deserve the BMW z35 for all you’ve been through but alas I was a few pennies short. Still, I like what Jonah symbolizes and I think this is fitting. You have worked hard and 4 years later I am impressed by all you’ve done. I know you need time for the space in between to reflect on it all, and I don’t know where this commencement will bring you next, but I do know that you are talented, and that there is a distant shore waiting for you.
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Thank you so much for walking with me. You, alone, have a real feel for the trauma. You’ve stood through it, and for your willingness to watch me flounder and find my way–I am thankful. You’ve been an amazing support and I’m a very, very lucky girl. And the He Qi is stunning. I adore it! ~W
You are truly amazing…I love the way you put everything together…thank you for the continuing inspiration
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Thanks, Saidra! I appreciate your words on this post and your presence on this blog. You have been so present and encouraging (not to mention, introduced me to some great bloggers!). Thanks so much!! ~W
I had no idea that you attended seminary school…
Sounds like you are working through all your thoughts + feelings with a great attitude, + isn’t that what it’s all about?
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I did! I have a MDiv with a concentration in spirituality. Which, really just means I know have lots of student loans and a penchant for candles. 😀 Blessings. ~W
You are so gifted. I am thankful that the past 4 years isn’t stopping you from becoming your best self, and inspiring us to do the same. (and just so you know the South misses you as well :D)
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Oh, Lord, I miss it too! Confession: I spend too much time looking at Realtor.com for property. Oh my, oh my. Right now, I’m trying hard to convince my daddy to buy in Natchez just so I have a reason to vacation in Mississippi! 😀 And thank you, dear one! I’ve so appreciated getting to know you better. This blog has helped that, I think. Blessings. ~W
Maybe knowing that the time of commencement has passed will also help you to move forward. I believe that we all are stronger from the rides we each take in the whale’s belly. I know that I am, after weathering many a storm (and just as sure that more storms are on my horizon. )
I hope you find your distant shore and the peace and healing that will come with it. I’ll help you laugh and giggle along the way anytime that you need it….
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Paula, your story is amazing—and your perspective on life is remarkable! I’m honored to call you a friend—and I appreciate your willingness to read all this and respond! 😀 YOU ROCK! ~W
I stand in awe of you, the grief of 4 years has matured you and given you great insight. You have stayed long in the belly of the fish enduring the storm, you deserve the celebration of commencement. You are amazing!!!!
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Thank you! I appreciate this, I really do. For those of you reading who don’t recognize the name, this would be my mother chiming in. Which is ever so lovely. (See, Babette, I do call my mother once in awhile. I’m still not doing Yoga, tho!) 😀 ~W
This is a beautiful entry. Sometimes when I see a lot of text my eyes glaze over, however I was gripped by your story from beginning to end. You have a lot of courage to share this. As you know, the world works in mysterious ways… Here’s to onward and upward!
Now I know where the Sunday Sermon comes from… If all sermon content was as grounded and real as yours, religion might seep into the counterculture. (or something like that 🙂
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Oh, trust me… I’m surprised anyone read this. TOO MANY WORDS. But, thank you for sticking with me. And thank you for being present to all this and offering kind words. It means so much.
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As for the sermons, they have an interesting back story (ok, interesting to me as someone once in the field) that I should probably explain someday. But, not today. I feel the need for serious picture posts for a few days! ~W
You and Jonah both get second chances to learn from what you’ve been through. We already know what happened to Jonah, and you will overcome too! 🙂 Life is a continual learning experience. Some times are hard and you think “what on earth can I learn from THIS!”. You have learned, you have gone forward, and will continue to do so. 🙂 Thank God you have a wonderful support group out here in blogland, and also in your very own home with your wonderful guys. I think you’re a pretty special chick (and I haven’t even MET you YET ~in a little over a month), and like you said, we are all ministers to each other for comfort, encouragement, whatever, and I think you provide that. Big giant cheesy hugs to you my friend! 🙂
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Thank you, Cindy, you’re so very kind! I’m looking forward to meeting you too. ~W
Thank you for sharing this.
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You are so welcome! Thanks for commenting. These posts are often scary to write, because I’m a humorist and I write to make people laugh. I always worry when I put anything outside that genre up… will people see it. I’m glad you did. 😀 ~W
Such beauty found under a plain brown wrapper?! I love the artwork and the frame. Who is the artist?
You are a work of art, too, sweet Wende, and I consider myself blessed to know you.
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Thank you, I appreciate your presence on my blog and in my life. 😀 The artist is He Qi (said Who She). He was, coincidently, an artist in residence at the Seminary I attended, but long before I ever got there. However, years later, the bookstore was still plastered with his posters, albeit very faded posters. I spent my entire Seminary experience working at the bookstore and staring it his work. However, it wasn’t until the very end that an art rep. came into the store and actually showed us the full extent of his images. I’d been looking at faded posters that I had NO idea how vibrant his work really was! I was blown away. Right under my nose the whole time. And, so goes life. 😀 ~W
This is so beautifully written. I love the way you’ve found your own way to commemorate this milestone in your life.
It’s takes a lot of courage to walk off a path that you’ve invested so much time in. I’m positive that good things await on this new one… 🙂
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Thank you! We’re moving forward. I have no idea what’s in store for me, but you know, life is an adventure! ~W
I am especially intrigued by your statement, “I am not…in any way amenable to supporting a system I think is broken.” When I became an educator, I had no idea how broken it was. I was naive enough to think I could fix it. I still struggle with being a part of something unfixable, although ultimately, I think that being a light that brightens the broken shards around me is important. When I’m able, that is. Many people around me bear scars. I am fortunate that I do not, at least not ones imposed by the system. I have been fortunate. However, I think the church as it is today is an institution that is in even more trouble that public education. And you’re dealing with the most important thing in the world. I’m so sorry that you were hurt.
The story of Jonah. That really resonates. I have ran from so many things, aimlessly. You gave me food for thought there. As you pointed out, the ministry is not something that can be contained. Keep on.
Oh, and the pictures are still lovely.
Peace.
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Oh, the words I could spend saying just how broken I think it is! But, you know, there are still people who are called to be there–much like you’re called to stand where you are working in an untenable situation. It doesn’t mean that your work is in vain! You do amazing work, and I’m stunned that you remain as hopeful as you are in the midst of such stress.
I do so appreciate your thoughtfulness here and your willingness to engage the world. ~W
Well, you are the best kind of minister/preacher in my book because I got chills when I read this post. If you gave this sermon in a church, that is the one I would attend. It’s that good! Our lives are all full of missteps, wrong turns and indecision. However, there are no wasted experiences, as far as I’m concerned. Everything COUNTS! The mistakes are for learning and growth; in life, we have to embrace it all and sally forth.
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Thank you, Margaret! My blog is the closest to a pulpit I will ever have, and I’m ok with that! I’m working on the forward movement. You, of all my readers, have seen the most of this and do appreciate your hanging in! Thank you, thank you! I owe you coffee ASAP. ~W
I am late to the conversation, so my comment will only sound repetitive BUT–I love this post. I had to read it more than once to take it all in — there is so much here. I love the metaphor of Jonah and the Whale, and I love that you chose to commemorate your time with that beautiful piece of art.
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I wish my photos did this piece justice. I can see it from my usual blogging perch and from our coffee nook—it makes me happy. And thank you for the support and readership. Rock on, Miz S, Rock on. 😀 ~W
As much as I enjoy the pictures and the art and the crafts (and I do enjoy them all), I come here for the words. A post like this did not scare me off. It made me grin in anticipation of another little side trip through the world using your perspective. Everyone has expressed most of what I’ve been thinking: this is a beautiful post, we are all on a journey, and sometimes we get second chances. What I would like to add is that I feel blessed that you choose to share these moments with us, because your words do reach people. In different ways, your words touch everyone who reads them. Thank you for having the courage to bare your soul 🙂
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I’m glad to have found you as a reader, Cap. Your humor inspires me and your comments (even this one) always leave me smiling. Thanks for finding your way here and staying through the gritty stuff. ~W
I enjoyed your post. I went through a bad storm,too. I don’t like change, although change is constant. I was at a point in my life where I didn’t want to be, but there was nothing I could do to change it. Absolutely nothing. When I was going through my storm my niece called me and said, “Don’t tell God how big your storm is; tell your storm how big your God is.” Wow. When I started doing that I was able to laugh, smile, move forward, and know that someday all would be well and peaceful. It has truly made me a better, stronger, more understanding person. Believe me when I say I have seen a side of this world that I never even knew existed.
I love what you said about how we all are ministers to each other. The encouragement, love, and laughter I feel from fellow bloggers is so wonderful. I feel that all of us minister to each other whether it be giving a tutorial on how to make something, or praying for each other when life is hard.
I’m a Southern girl, too. I am originally from LA (Shreveport).
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Goodness! You stumbled onto my blog at the most interesting of moments! Things are not usually so wordy nor, uh, in depth around here. I’m glad you’re here and that you’ve commented. Thanks for your perspective. Your comment reminds me of a camp song my son came home singing last year. The lyrics, while completely inane and in no way original, are kinda inspiring when you think about it: “God is Big!. God is Big! God is, really, really, really really, really. really Big!!!”. So, while not the poetry we might want, kinda hard to argue with. 😀 Blessings on your journey, thank you for being a part of mine. ~W
See…that’s the gift you have….when you orate, you speak to us as individuals. You were talking to me alone when you wrote that weren’t you?
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Thank you, dear Karan! You have some idea of living in the belly of the whale and I’m ever so thankful for your participation in my journey. Your willingness to share the grit has helped me to keep things in perspective. It seems like you might have found some dry land and for this, I rejoice! Blessings. ~W
Yes, I’m swimming in whale barf and happy for it. 🙂 Thank you for all your support, it helped very much.
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What an image, eh? And yet, so highly appropriate! 😀 ~W
After my son Mark died, I had to learn how to cope with why. Always the Why. Now, this week is his birthday- he would have been 21. I accept it all finally and after seeing where I ended up, with a man who lost his wife of 22 years (cancer) I know why. I had to go through all of that in order to be compassionate with him. Life makes you who you are and truly, there is no Joy without Sorrow. They are twin Sisters. You have taken a step in your Journey and survived the passage- I used to visualize running the gauntlet and being brave was the way through….Growing your soul- that’s what life is about for me. It can’t all be rainbows and unicorns and cupcakes…There is a quote by Hemingway about “Life breaks everyone and afterwards we are strong at the broken places.” . Be brave. Be strong. Good sermon-
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Kim, thank you for sharing your story. I can’t imagine your sorrow and I’m wishing you the best as you move forward! Blessings. 😀 ~W
What a beautiful post… so very real and authentic. Thank you for writing this and sharing. It was very uplifting.
I loved this line in particular… “Sometimes, the very things that threaten to destroy us are the vehicles of change necessary for us to commence with living…”
So true and something I really needed to be reminded of right now.
Thank you and blessing to you.
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Oh, thank you for your support. It’s always a risk for me to write these things, as it’s not my normal bent. I’m so glad it reached you in a way that was uplifting. 😀 ~W
Wende, you’re so awesome and you do have a way of bringing wonderful observations to even your most humorous posts. So of course we’ll all go with you to hear these things. I am new and did not know you graduated Seminary. And I’m therefore also not informed about the other things you’ve written about it. But I think it’s awesome that you put it all on the table and marked an endpoint to the process. And I love the print. ~A
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Thank you, Angela. You’d be surprised how many people don’t want to come here with me. And that’s OK too, they read for different reasons, and I get that. It’s a difficult decision for me to write these kinds of posts because I often second guess myself and worry too much about those people who won’t come along. Anyhow, it’s all good, right?
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And I’m so loving this print, it absolutely shames every other piece of art I have in the house. It is just a print (however, limited and a true Giclee´) but I feel so grown up! 😀 ~Wen