Closing Thoughts To The Metroplex

Dear Dallas,

 

Our time together came to an end almost two months ago. It’s crazy to think that it’s already been that long. More than that, it’s crazy to think of how much time I still need to process through what the last three years mean to me. I think we both know that I’m telling the truth when I say we had a… tumultuous season together. Yet you’ve contributed so much to who I am and have made me grow. Sometimes, it was painful. It was certainly always necessary. When I think back over the last three years I see just how much of a love/hate relationship we had:

 

-There was the time you gave me a church family that carried me when I could not move on my own

-There was the time all of my theology classes had names I had to Google just to know what I would be studying

-There was the time I realized I could out-drink most everyone in seminary, but then realized that was nothing to brag about since it was, after all, seminary

-There was the time I realized that most dating options in Dallas meant frat-tastic cowboys or homeschooled pastors’ kids. Then there were the times I tried to make it work anyways

-There was the time my best friend for over a decade moved to town and reminded me of who I am

-There were all of the times I shouted every four-letter word I knew when a light drizzle of rain would start and the highway would practically shut down. Seriously, Dallas, it’s just rain

-There was the time you gave me drinking buddies to laugh with. Then there was the time I got put on disciplinary probation for going out with those drinking buddies

-There were the times when I was made to feel like my spiritual gifts were “less than” because I didn’t want to be a pastor

-There were so many Taco Joint dates with friends. Then the time I was asked on a date by a Taco Joint employee, said no, and had to forfeit free queso privileges

-There were all the times I was told I needed to be a good steward of the body the Lord had given me, followed up by slut shaming for wearing yoga pants on my way to work out

 

Honestly, Dallas, I’m not sure how I feel about you at this point. You have really good food and Texas sunsets do have their own charm, yet I feel like the weight is finally off my shoulders of people telling me how I’m supposed to behave to be worthy or lovely or enough, all in the name of Jesus. I feel like I’m entering a season of life that allows me to be who I was created to be. Although the last three years have felt so stifling that I'm not even fully sure who that is. This new season will be one filled with family, laughter, mountains, and good drinks. A season which embraces my quirks instead of trying to suffocate them. A season that does not make me feel like something is wrong with me simply for being myself.

 

For the last three years I feel like I’ve been walking around afraid to offend my fellow seminarians. But here’s the thing—I think we’re offended by the wrong things. Sometimes it seems like the culture I’ve been immersed in gets offended over swearing more than they do poverty. They’re offended by tattoos more than the blatant mistreatment of the orphans and the widows and the ragamuffins. They support social justice causes on a grand scale, but fail to love their neighbor because it doesn’t fit their own expectations and needs.

 

Please don’t read me saying that the last three years have been all bad. I am beyond grateful for some of the experiences I had there. But now, I’m ready for the next. I’m ready to be encouraged instead of suppressed and to embrace all of the oddities life has to offer. I’m ready to do things that make me come alive. Because when you do things from your soul, other people really dig that shit.

 

So Dallas, I know we’ll see each other again, probably soon.

Until that day comes, know that I’ll think about you often. Most of the time, even fondly.

 

xx,

Chelsea

 

P.S. Thanks for the view of the skyline every night. That was really cool of you.
P.P.S. I really miss your tacos, a lot.

Affirmations and Moonwalking

I’m really bad at receiving compliments. I never know what to do with them. 

Do you return them: “You like my shoes? Thanks! I like your... um... hair?”

Do you agree: “I know, right? I am really smart and successful and everyone wants to be me! I’m glad you noticed too!”
Do you try to humbly discount it: "Oh it's nothing. Anyone can do the really cool things I do."

Do you awkwardly moonwalk away: “...”

My go-to response when someone tells me I look nice is “Oh thanks, I showered today!”
I’m not saying it’s a great response, but I like to believe it’s better than moonwalking.

I think we struggle with affirmation in Christian culture for multiple reasons. The first is because we’re afraid to take it at face value and it is as if we believe that there must be some ulterior motive. The second reason is that we get so caught up on the first reason, that we just stop trying to encourage others altogether. 

This has been an ever-relevant topic for me as a seminarian. I love to affirm people where they’re at. I love to leave notes outside doors, let people know they’re being prayed for, and tell them how I see God working in their lives. The thing is though, I think 82% of the time it’s either interpreted the wrong way or my fear that it will be keeps me from doing it in the first place. There has been more than one occasion where I’ve sent someone (read: a dude) a text saying I’m praying for them, and then I’ve sent another text forty minutes later saying, “Hey, I hope you know that I’m not trying to hit on you or anything. Just trying to be an encouraging friend.” (And on one occasion I sent a third text in which I apologized for the awkwardness of the second. It's a bad cycle to get yourself stuck in y'all.)

Confession: I’m just as guilty. When I’ve had others tell me they’re praying for me or that they hope I have a good day, I automatically assume that there is something deeper going on. So normally I don’t respond. Or I moonwalk away. 

Should it really be this hard to affirm the people in your life? I’ll readily admit that for as hard as it is to receive and internalize encouraging words, they can make my day better so easily. Earnest, uplifting words usually make me cry. And I'm not the type of person that's all into crying and talking about her feelings. YET, we all want to be known, understood, and loved where we are. I think we’re so afraid of sending the wrong message that we end up feeling isolated and discouraged.

I would like to live in community with people in such a way that we can perpetually be affirming, encouraging, and supporting each other without having to over think things. Life is so often tough and messy-- it would be nice to have people around that put Ephesians 4:29 into action. It would be nice to have people that truly try to say only what is good, helpful and needed for building up community so that it may give grace to those who hear it. 

Let’s go forward with that intention. 

Today, try to speak only what is kind, even if it's uncomfortable.

Worth the Weight, Worth the Wait

A lot of times in seminary I feel like the odd ball.
I feel like the shoe that's just a half size too small that you think you can make work but one hour in you're already regretting your choice (any guys feel me on that one too, or just the ladies?)
I feel like the clumsy, bad influence.
I feel like I'm perpetually trying to understand the people around me and then failing when I don't naturally want to talk about things like dispensationalism.
I feel like the kid in class that's jumping up and down, with their hand in the air waiting to be chosen but never is (which coincidentally I always was in gym class, but that's for different reasons.)
Simply put, I feel like I'm perpetually walking on egg shells and banana peels combined and it's been three years of doing it poorly.

Being in seminary, I feel like I have people perpetually telling me things like "When you know who you are in Christ, other people's words and actions don't affect you the way they used to because you're secure in who you are. You know your worth." I'm going to call BS on that one. I still feel just as out of place and out of sorts as I did in various situations growing up. Except now I would like my mother to remedy it with sangria instead of chocolate milk.

Now, I made a deal with myself for the year 2014 that goes like this: Be kind to yourself, be kind to others. I even wrote it out as my annual paper art resolution (that's how you know it's serious.)

I know I can't change other people's words and actions but I can change my own. I stumbled across this quote form Chinwe Ohanele that says, "What is my worth, if I cannot be attractive? What is my worth if I cannot attract attention? What is my worth if I am not dainty? What is my worth, if I am not skilled in the kitchen? What is my worth if I am not soft-spoken? The language of feminism was meant to answer those questions by reminding women, and men who live outside the self-prescribed boxes of gender, that your worth is inherent, it arrived when you were born, it stays with you long after you die."

So that it what I am carrying into this year, into this last stretch of an uncomfortable season.
I am being kind to myself and remembering my inherent worth.
I am remembering that I try to be caring and compassionate.
I am remembering that I want to love people well, where they are at.
I am remembering that we all feel a little out of sorts and sometimes just need someone to cry with.
I am remembering that my roommate says I give food away like our apartment is a soup kitchen.
I am remembering that at my core, I seek to be altruistic because of Jesus.

Feeling my worth in those truths makes it far, far easier to be kind to myself. My hope is that in some way, you are able to feel your inherent worth as well. It is not dependent upon any person or thing. You have it because you are here. You are alive. And so tomorrow, we press on.

This Week's Prayer...

Lord,

Let me start by thanking you. This week you have provided good sleep, good weather, and good conversation. Thank you for unexpected phone calls with old friends that fill my soul and remind me of who I am. Thank you for shitty pop music that has made paper writing so much more enjoyable. Thank you for giving me a body that bends and breathes and stretches and dances. 

All that said, I am tired. I am trying to hold on to all of these blessings, but really I just want to take a three day nap. And yes Lord, I realize that would be a coma and not a nap, but it does not change my desire for it. I’ve been restless and lonely and longing for something that I can’t quite put my finger on. Things seem to feed my soul and drain it at the same time. Lord it’s really hard to care for your children when it often feels so one-sided and like no one is reciprocating. 

But I know you have a plan and a purpose and better than what I can conceptualize for myself. So I pray for the continued ability to rest well. I pray for comforts in this season of life that I did not initially choose for myself but I seem to be in regardless. I pray that the things that seem to be burdening my heart become lighter. And most importantly, I pray that you give me the eyes to see your people the way that you do. All I want to do is love others well. Generally that means through cookies or cups of coffee. I am okay with both. Please grant me more opportunities to take care of others as I know that their current seasons may be holding the same amount of fidgeting and discomfort as my own. 

Your mercies are new each morning and each day you find a new way to love me as the hot damn mess I am. On days when it does not feel like it, please remind me that is enough. Amen. 

How to Lose Friends and Alienate People

This past Friday and Saturday I was in the second weekend of a three weekend Research Methods and Statistics class. To answer the questions I know you’re thinking in your head the answers are all: Yes. 

Yes, this is cruel and unusual punishment for a counseling major.

Yes, apparently they do teach math in seminary.

And yes, I did use almost every expletive I know whilst attempting to calculate standard deviation and z-scores. Sorry again Kristen (and that's both to my mother for the language itself and the poor girl sitting next to me who had to endure it.)

Spending this much time with people provides a lot of insight through class discussions. Often more insight than I would like. To help out fellow seminarians (and really anyone in school at all) let me provide you with some ways to lose credibility and alienate yourself in class discussions.

1. Always refer to the professor by their first name.
2. Always tell a five minute story whenever you’re called on.
3. Always raise your hand to “ask a question” while really just sharing your opinion and using the classroom as your own personal platform.
4. Laugh obnoxiously loud at every. single. joke. the professor makes. I mean, they can’t all be funny-- even the professors admit that some of their jokes aren’t that good.
5. Perpetually be on Facebook but then share your opinion as though you’ve been listening the whole time.
6. Try to suck up to the prof by helping with technical issues even though you’re still using AOL. Real talk-- this happened in class once. I think she was trying to use dial-up in class.
7. Ask the professor questions about their 15 minute slideshow of recent vacation pictures. Just like the jokes can't all be funny, the pictures can't all be good.
8. Ask the prof for additional assignments. More real talk-- this also happened in class once. Homeboy straight up raised his hand and asked, “Aren’t we all here to learn as much as we can? Shouldn’t we all just have these extra assignments all the time?” Funny enough, that’s probably the closest I’ve been to punching someone in the nose in class.
9. Make “mmms” and “ahhs” really, really loudly at every remotely profound thing anyone says all class.
10. Wear a fedora and/or sunglasses in class. Come on y’all-- our classrooms don’t even have windows. Why the hell are you wearing sunglasses? 

Now, I enjoy great class discussions so I say this because I love you-- if you’re going to do any of the above mentioned activities you’re setting yourself for some resentment. Also some failure. Probably both. 

Summers and Students and Sweat and Snacks

I know I haven’t blogged much (ahem, at all) this summer. It’s been a crazy one. Good crazy though. This summer I had the chance to travel a ridiculous amount. Among many travel endeavors I was blessed to go with students to Minnesota, Alabama, and the Dominican Republic.

Now, there is something I knew before, but became ridiculously convinced of this summer-- Students are the game changers in the world. They’ll be the ones causing revivals and leading people to Christ. I believe this for many reasons...

1. Students are hilarious. They are creative. They always have snacks. 

Seriously though, just last Sunday I was sitting in church next to a student that had a full bag of gummy bears in his pocket. On another occasion I had a student walking around the church with an ENTIRE BOX of Oreos in his cargo shorts. Imagine how much better the world would be if everyone always carried around and shared their delicious snacks like this.

2. Students do things other people would never do.

On more than one occasion I’ve been around when a high school guy has decided to poop in a body of water that was not a toilet. One time it was in a lake with others around and to this day that kid still gets called Poop Boy (...I may or may not be the one who calls him that.) The other student pooped in the ocean and took to calling it shark sugar. I’m pretty sure he still doesn’t realize sharks weren't impressed or grateful for that generous treat.

Outside of poop, I’ve seen students do things like stick tampons in their nose to stop nose bleeds. I think we can all thank Amanda Bynes’ character in She’s the Man for that trick.* 

3. Students are resilient.

Once upon a time I was at a summer camp and a student brought fireworks. That same student decided it would be in his best interest to shoot those fireworks out of his butt. It was all great in theory, but in practice... he got a little nervous. Here is the moral of the story-- if you’re going to shoot fireworks out of your ass, don’t clench your cheeks because you will get burn marks. Now, if that wasn’t enough, he did this on the first day or two of camp which meant that he still had to go the rest of the week sitting on the ground, often in the sand, and sharing a room with 15 other guys. I don’t know about you, but I don’t know if I could make it.**

On our trip to the Dominican Republic this summer we were fortunate enough to do some construction for a school in the town we were staying in. On the last day after building walls, weeding, and constructing a swing set we had a fiesta for the local ninos. Mind you, this was after a full day of manual labor. At one point my co-intern looked at a student and said, “Dude, I really have no idea how y’all have the energy to be running around this field with kids on your back right now.” He looked back and said, “We don’t.” But that didn’t stop them. Even when students are completely exhausted they push harder and longer than it seems possible. Then, the next morning they get up and do it all over again. 

I firmly believe that when students catch vision of who God is and what he does in our frail human hearts, their passion to share that news becomes unstoppable. I have been blessed over and over again through living life with students. They are brave, they are sassy, and they think things like "Twerk for Jesus" are a good idea.

*I do feel like I need to say I may have been the one to strongly encourage this event. But the point is that I know very few to no adults who would go along with that idea.

**Or maybe this story has nothing to do with being resilient, but sometimes you just need a story about a student shooting fireworks out of his butt.

Seeing God In The Nostrils

I’ve observed two types of people in seminary-- those who start to grow slightly callous to the ebb and flow of chapel life and prayer requests, and then those who become increasingly amazed with God in the little things... like the fact that we were created with nostrils. 

If I’m being completely honest, I probably fall in line with the first group of people more often than I would like to admit to a lot of my classmates. When reading assignments are full books of the Bible and written assignments are journaling the reading assignments, it gets hard to spend what little free time there is delving into Scripture even more. I realize this is shaping me up to sound horrible, and I’m okay with that, because I struggle with this.

Earlier this semester I had to write a twenty-five page paper as an argument for the book of Hebrews. It was an incredible assignment that completely changed the way I look at Hebrews, but not the way I look at Jesus. And I know, I know-- this is okay. But in a world where everyone is always saying things like “Dang, I am getting so much out of writing these papers each week because they are really showing me so much about our Savior!” it is easy to feel spiritually less-than when sometimes for me it’s just another assignment to mark off the checklist. 

In my life, that isn’t how I see God working and moving and being amazing. For me it’s more things like seeing life change in my high school friends who are finally understanding their infinite worth. It’s those days out in nature when you realize just how intricately God designed the world. It’s seeing selfless people on hard days. These things change the way I look at Jesus and make me thankful for Him all the more. These things are my moments of being amazed by nostrils.

For as thankful as I am for all of the assignments that are showing me the depth of Scripture, I am even more thankful for all of the moments that are showing me more about Jesus.

For those who have been discouraged along the way, especially with only one week left in the semester-- know you’re doing okay. One of the best things I’ve heard since being in seminary was a professor telling the class that when they attended here, it was the most spiritually dry time of their life. So much weight off my shoulders with that one simple sentence. I can only imagine what a different dynamic there would be if more candid conversations were had about this. It is always nice to know you aren’t the only one. Professors aren’t the only ones. I’m not the only one.

Do Not Fart In The Elevator

Guest Post by Brandon Giella

Having been in seminary nearly three months now, I want to share with you a few oddities with which you ought to be acquainted. Let me begin by saying that this is my first time attending a Christian school. It is my first time living in a dorm. This is my first time turning down Trey Songz because the walls are anorexically thin. Since elementary school I have not had to so often ask those around me what I can and cannot do. They hug more often in North Korea.

To those brave men who wish to enter seminary, allow me a few tips:

1. Perfect the side hug.
2. When a woman grabs an extra Panera sandwich for her husband, do not jokingly say, “I’m going to grab one for my husband too.”
3. Do not fart in the elevator.
4. You will be inexplicably tired from 7–11 AM and from 1–4 PM, every day.
5. Find synonyms for the words community, fellowship, struggle, and intentional.

Freud wrote a bit on the narcissism of the small difference. He says, “it is precisely the minor differences in people who are otherwise alike that form the basis of feelings of hostility between them.” There is an invariable tendency for those who have few significant differences to be most at odds with one another: Shia and Sunni, Baptists and Methodists, Easy E and Dr. Dre. I find the same principle in seminary-- we all are seeking the same goal and abide by all seven standards of the school, yet we find the most sinister, silent confrontations to be over tastes in music, off-color humor, or interactions with the opposite sex. Everything is either too-this or not-enough-that.
Perhaps this is hyperbole. Between the incessant conversations on dating and the stacks of books to be read by next week, there are a few gems. One of these is the overwhelming kindness of most seminarians. Another is the plurality of world cultures, or the high regard for the study of Scripture. Whatever it is that causes me to glare slightly narrowly at some things here, there is abundantly more to be grateful.

Trust Me, I'm In Seminary...?

Sorry for the long delay in blogging, y'all! It was mid-terms, and then spring break... and then a week of recovery. All that time of travel and catching up with people led me to identify a trend in my life-- since starting grad school, people seem to think I’m suddenly an expert in all sorts of things. I’ve had a lot of people come up to me and say things like:

“Chelsea, you’re a counseling major-- let me spend 20 minutes telling you about this weird thing my friend did. Do you think you could diagnose them for me?”

--OR--

“Chelsea, you’re in seminary-- what are your thoughts on the theological significance of some minor prophet and what that means for the way I’m going to raise my children?”

...See how under qualified I am for all of this? I mean, I am humbled and flattered by the fact that people seem to think so much of my input but y’all, I’ll let you in on some secrets: 

 1. I have absolutely no idea what I’m talking about most of the time. 

 2. I’m usually just making it up as I go.

 3. Until recently I didn’t even know that Obadiah was a real book in the Bible (side note: I still have a hard time finding it).

I am learning so, so much from my time here, but honestly, I don’t know if I’ll ever get to a point where I’ll say in a non-ironic way “trust me, I’m in seminary.” Because really, I just don’t think it would be that reassuring of a thing to hear. 

That said, I decided to try and scale where “trust me, I’m in seminary” falls on the level of comfort. It ended up being ranked as more soothing than hearing “trust me, I’m a florist” or “trust me, I wet the bed until I was ten,” but ranked significantly lower than “trust me, I once saved triplets from a burning building” or “trust me, I went to medical school for 8 years.” 

If there is ever an emergency situation, save an exorcism, I don’t know if saying you’re a seminarian will really put anyone’s mind at ease. 

Give it some time though and maybe one day I’ll be able to answer questions and feel pretty secure that I’m not leading you too far astray. But honestly, I don’t know if or when that day will come. So I ask that you bear with me now as I bumble my way through the present.

Not Quite The Virtuous Woman Hoped For

About a week ago my roommate Lauren and I were having a lazy Friday morning. It was around 10:30 when her fiancé, Sam, stopped by to say hello-- Lauren however, was still in her room. Laying in bed. Probably on Pinterest. I wasn’t really being any more productive though-- just drinking coffee and sitting on the couch. Anyways, the point is that Sam knocked on her bedroom door and said a little something like this: 

“Lauren, you’re still in bed? It’s halfway through the morning! What would a Proverbs 31 woman be doing right now???” 

For the record, Sam was joking... I mean, probably. I sat on the couch laughing and drinking my coffee and even though it wasn’t directed towards me, his comment got me thinking all the same. What would the Proverbs 31 woman be doing at 10:30 on a Friday morning? More than that, if I were living up to the standard set by this woman who puts all others to shame, what should I be doing at 10:30 on a Friday morning? I looked up the passage to check-- that should have been the first sign though, the original woman probably would have had it memorized already. I read the verses again and again and here are the notes I took:

Proverbs 31:14 “She is like a merchant’s ship, she brings her food from afar”

I don’t know if she’s being compared to a ship in size, but I have been known to carry a lot of snacks around. Even today I found crumbs in my pocket... and I’m not really sure what they’re from.

Proverbs 31:15 “She’s up before dawn to prepare breakfast”

Yeah... I think we’ve already established that I slept in until at least 10, and coffee was my breakfast.

Proverbs 31:21 “She has no fear of the winter...”

False. I’m from Florida. I love winter, but it scares the hell out of me. The only thing I know to do in the cold is not shave to get an extra layer of warmth. Which is what everyone does... right?

Proverbs 31:24 “She makes belted linen garments and sashes”

I once crocheted my friend a pair of soft, yet ill-fitting, underwear... So I’m pretty sure I’ve got this one covered.

Proverbs 31:26 “When she speaks, her words are wise and kindness is the rule”

...Maybe it would just be best to quit before I’m too far behind since answering this one isn’t going to score me any points.

To be fair, my idea of a household at this point in life is me and one roommate, no pets. Reading this passage as something to aspire to reminds me of the F. Scott Fitzgerald quote-- “It was always the becoming he dreamed of, never the being.” I’m inspired by all the things I know I am not, yet I don’t know if in the process I will ever fully get there. For now, I’ll start with baby steps-- even if I have absolutely no idea what those are. 

I know that even if I’m never the ever esteemed Proverbs 31 woman, God still wired me intentionally, if not a bit spastic and clumsy. 

So Lauren, my dear roommate, I think we’re in the clear. Let our lazy Fridays continue!

When Seminary Doesn't Stop The Doubt

I think when I started seminary I secretly believed it meant my issues would magically resolve on their own. I thought that since I was trusting God enough to uproot everything I knew and loved, I would feel like I had arrived to the place I always belonged and that everything I did would be exceptionally fulfilling. More than that, I think I wanted to believe that in loving God and loving others well, everything in my life would start to make sense. That all of my questions about life, God, and broken people would suddenly be answered.

In complete honesty though-- the longer I'm here, the more I realize just how broken I am. I had deluded myself into believing that seminary would stop doubt from ever seeping in. But I have cracks and leaks and although they start small, without even realizing it, they grow and doubt begins controlling my thoughts more than I'd like to admit. Some pieces to life just never seem to fit right.

You see, no matter how much time I spend with Jesus, the world is still a broken place that's really hard to live in some days. I'm still a sojourner. In my naivety, I thought that seminary was a cure for this but in the last year and a half I've seen a lot of hard, horrible things happen and I've had a lot of moments where I question what God is doing and why certain things in life have to be the way they are. Thoughts, fears, and deep seeded insecurities won't disappear over night. They certainly didn't get left back home when I moved across the country for school, and won't go away until they're addressed now in the present.

I wish I could say that being in seminary has brought me to a place where I don't have doubts anymore. What I'm perpetually rediscovering is that hard things are going to happen no matter what season of life we're in and we won't always (if ever) understand. That's when I need to cling to God the most.

Doubt is real, but so is hope. So I respond by seeking God. Seminary may not have been the missing ingredient in the elixir that I was hoping would bring my life to a perfect place of peace, but life here has definitely helped me realize my desperate need for a Savior all the more. I think Brennan Manning says it best in this quote:

"We presume that trust will ease confusion, dull the pain, redeem the times... Our trust does not bring final clarity on this earth. It does not still the chaos or dull the pain or provide a crutch. When all else is unclear, the heart of trust says, 'Into your hands I commend my spirit.'"

With that, I leave you with this song by Noah Gundersen. I am pretty sure I've listened to is 1,000 times over the years and it never ceases to grab me. We're naturally inquisitive beings, and that's okay. Let's live in a world where we can openly admit that we have weaknesses and doubts, knowing that God is bigger and working in the midst of it. Let's journey on together.

When Your Only Valentine is Jesus...

Here is an obvious statement... Valentine's Day is this week. Which for many, means a time of candy hearts and eating your feelings. Personally I've never been a big fan of the holiday. My philosophy is this: I can't even remember to feed or bathe myself, so it's probably for the best that I don't have to celebrate this one.

This is my second Valentine's Day since being in seminary-- a place where young love abounds and sometimes it seems like people go out for coffee once, then decide to get married. Living in the singles apartments tends to make it even more of a dark mark on the calendar for a lot of people around here. In this world people often look at us (alright, maybe just me) like something must be really wrong since we're single. There seems to be a constant flow of justification and pity comments. Around Valentine's Day though, the statements get a little more ridiculous. Here are two of my favorites:


1. "My valentine died on the cross for my sins..."
Let's think about this... I don't think Jesus is really your valentine. He doesn't show up at your door with chocolates and a balloon or sing you cheesy love songs. I feel like if you're saying that, although well intentioned, you may be more single (and probably lonely) than the rest of us.

2. "Jesus thinks you're beautiful..."
I could be wrong, but I feel like the second half of this sentence is "....and He's the only one." Surprisingly enough, this doesn't esteem us girls as much as you may think.


All this to say... we know we're single. But even for those of us that don't mind it, we don't need the constant reminder. It's really isn't that helpful. Call it Valentine's Day or call it Singles Awareness Day but it's definitely an awkward day for many people. I've just come to embrace that fact.

Necessary Clarifying Statements...

1. The goal of this blog is not to hurt or offend anyone. It's just a place to tell the stories of well intentioned people and how poorly I interact with the real world. Who can we laugh at if not ourselves, right? My intention is never to come across as bitter, jaded, or ill-willed and sometimes my thoughts get the best of me and I phrase things poorly. Please accept my apology in that. It happens more than I'd like to admit.

2. I'm not the average seminary student. Which I'm okay with. It just gets me into more awkward situations than I was anticipating upon my arrival at school. I've had people tell me I stand out simply by my hair... I didn't even know that being blonde could render such results!

3. I love being in seminary. Did I ever see myself attending here? Not at all. That doesn't mean that I'm not thankful for the opportunities given to me. I mean really, until I started classes here there was a whole world of theological issues that I didn't even know I should be passionate about. On a regular basis I am overwhelmed by how much I don't know about so many things in the world. This is a great season of life and is perfect for an old-souled bookworm like me.

The world we live in is such a curious and intriguing place and I'm trying my best to figure it out just like everyone else. Below the Bible Belt is merely a way for me to process and laugh a little bit along the way. Please know that my heart behind this is not to bash a fantastic school or hurt the feelings of others. I just enjoy joking about the quirks in life. Join me along the way.

Man Shall Not Live On Pastors Alone...

I am a counseling major in seminary. Specific to the school I attend, this is one of the longer and more involved degrees offered. Now, I realize this seems like it's not that big of a deal but it's important to know how many stereotypes there are about our counseling department. When I've told people what I'm here to study I've received two responses more than any other:

1. "Cool, so that's an easy program. You're only here for like what, one year tops?
and...
2. "Oh, so you're really working on your MRS degree, right? (Twice there was a creepy wink involved)

Most everyone here gets some level of crap if they aren't working on their Masters of Theology (ThM). It's a prestigious degree and requires four years of schooling, but doesn't necessarily require you to be able to carry on a normal conversation-- there are plenty of great people in the program (trust me, I'm friends with them and they're awesome!) Sometimes though, other people here are viewed as slackers for choosing a different degree plan. I'd argue that being a female in this environment makes it even worse because people believe that we would rather sit around and talk about our feelings all day than talk about Jesus.

A few days ago I was talking to a ThM student about a book I just received for class. It's about 940 pages, called Diagnostic and Statistical Manual of Mental Disorders and it's published by the American Psychiatric Association. Sounds like a blast, right? Well as I'm talking to this student about how important, yet boring the book is we equated it to the Hebrew textbook he had in his hands. Suddenly he says: "Well, at least mine is studying the Bible, right?"

Maybe he meant it to be the silver lining in having to study so much, but I just thought he sounded like an ass.

Listen, I get that being able to translate the Old Testament is a big deal... but only in a certain world. We need more than pastors in the world. We definitely need more than pastors with poor social skills. We need Jesus. It takes counselors, teachers, hairstylists, and even garbage men to spread the hope of Jesus a little more. Believe it or not, you can still be the hands and feet of Jesus without writing a dissertation about covenant theology. At the end of the day, we all just really want the same thing-- to share our hope with a broken world.

Pastors are no closer to Jesus than the rest of us. For our school specifically, most all of the degree plans have a lot of the same core requirements when it comes to Bible and theology classes. So although we may not all be ThM students, I like to think that we still have something to offer. Even if it is a little less douchey and pretentious.

How to Get Through Seminary and Look Good Doin' It

I stand out in seminary. It is not secret. Even if I weren't self-aware enough to know that, people here sure are friendly enough to tell me on a regular basis. I asked two of my close friends their thoughts on how to best stand out in seminary and these were their responses...

1. Be a woman

2. Be Chelsea Watkins

...So, there is that.

Now, don't get me wrong-- I understand that for some people this tension in culture doesn't come quite as naturally.  I have a few tips for those of you that are trying to figure out how others of us just can't seem to help but stand out. If you're looking to become a little bit more ballsy here in this strange little world, here we go:

1. Don't get embarrassed by the use of the word ballsy. No but seriously, if you blush whenever any sort of remotely off color comment gets made... you'll be staying exactly where you started. The real world uses language that is sometimes offensive. Just prepare yourself a little bit!

2. Instead of using Christian curse words just commit to the real ones. We all know the point you're trying to get across. By channeling parts of Shoot Christians Say I don't know if you're making yourself as relatable as you're hoping. Sorry to say, it sometimes comes off more pretentious than anything else. But then again, I come off as pretentious, so who am I to say?

and last but not least...

3. If your seminary has a dress code, don't be afraid to push the envelope a little bit. Fellas, this means wearing no belt with your tucked in polo and khakis. If you're a lady, get a little crazy and don't put on leggings under your skirt that's already long enough to hide a few small children under. I didn't realize I was pushing the dress code until about a semester in. I blame growing up on the beach-- it didn't prepare me for having to ever dress professionally!

There are plenty of others, but I thought I'd keep it simple. 

What tips do you have?

Falling In Love During Winter Intensive

Falling in love during Winter Intensive is much like falling in love on a mission trip (Sup, Jon Acuff?) or on a cruise. The thing about a Winter Intensive class is that, much like a cruise, people fly from all over for one week of glory. Although in this case, instead of spending their time drinking margaritas or swimming with dolphins they get to spend five days of 8-5 class studying smart sounding seminary-ish things (Not going to lie... I've had to google a few class titles, just to know what they meant before the first day.) But back to the original point, I feel that it almost goes without saying that at the end of the week people don't waste any time in getting back to their hometowns. 

Now, Winter Intensive love has a few good things about it:

1. It's a nice distraction. I know, I know... studying things like Soteriology and Old Testament Law for a week straight is a complete blast. But believe it or not, it can become a bit of a beat down and anything to give the class a little pep is quite welcome. 

2. Much like mission trip love-- you spend all day err'day talking about Jesus with each other. "Hey, remember that one time that we sat in class for eight hours learning about the inerrancy of the Bible? Well that wasn't quite enough for me, so I'd love to go get a seminary approved beverage with you and study some more. Then maybe later we can practice speaking in tongues."

3. Much like cruise love-- you only have to be on your best behavior for five days. Then you can feel free to head home and catch up on all those Law & Order: SVU reruns and getting dressed in the dark.

Lastly...

4. You get the first hand experience of the awkward seminary dating world without being stuck in it like those of us that are on campus year round. Winter Intensive love doesn't have the normal pressure that seminary dating holds. No one expects a ring by the end of the week. And when both of you fly home on Friday evening, you're void of any further responsibility. 

Maybe you will find lasting love during Winter Intensive, although I wouldn't put all your eggs in that basket. Or all of your prayers in that hymnal, as it were.

A Saying Only The Zombies Ever Pulled Off Successfully

We all have those moments in life where we just don’t quite know what to say. What is awkward is when we try to say something anyways.

Last week in class we were talking about the paternity of Jesus. To be more specific, our professor was explaining that since Joseph wasn’t exactly Christ’s father, there was a lot of shame surrounding their family and his birth. The Pharisees would often throw this fact in Christ’s face while in heated debate. 

As we’re talking about this, a woman who had been otherwise silent in class chimes in with her only comment all week-- “Who’s your daddy?” ....and things just got weird from there. There is no good response to that comment. Fortunately for her, only a handful of people in the room heard the question. For those of us who did, it definitely raised some questions. Such as: why did you think saying that was a good idea?

Let the record show-- “Who’s your daddy?” is not good as a pick up line, it is not good as a country song, and it certainly is not good as a response to a seminary professor. 

A Lesson Everyone Needs... Even in Seminary

Sometimes you just need the reminder that even though you are traveling where you feel God has called you... it doesn’t make it any less shitty or any easier. To all in struggle, I say this:

It is okay to let yourself feel what you are feeling, and feel it wholly.

It won’t necessarily make it easier or more bearable, but I like to think that long term it’s easier to live with yourself when you’re not avoiding what you have been afraid to feel or who you have been afraid to be.

Maybe you need to extend forgiveness. Or maybe you need to recognize that you’re not quite ready to and that’s an okay place to be, for a season. Maybe you need to scream, throw something, or eat an entire bag of Coconut M&M’s. What it really comes down to is that it is okay to own your feelings and know that you won’t be in that place forever. 

Until we feel that closure, we pray. And maybe cry a little bit as well. 

I'm thankful for a place like seminary where I know that there is great community. And when these moments hit, there are people there to listen and let you get their shirt a little snotty. 

Starting the Semester on a Good Note...

This past week, I started up a Winter Intensive course on theology. One week instead of a whole semester. The first day of class is always a rough one. That doesn't change, no matter how long the class is. You always have to figure out if you have any friends in the class, where you're going to sit, and who the douchey guy with too many opinions is going to be. There are always awkward name games played and generally speaking, the day seems pretty pointless until the professor actually starts speaking. This brings me to one of my favorite moments of this one week class.

Twenty minutes after the professor made it past the introductions and into content, some brave soul raised his hand to ask a question-- "Excuse me, are we going to pray? We didn't at the beginning of class, so I just wanted to check."

Now, I am fully aware that I don't have all the answers (in fact, I have close to zero of them), but if the professor who you are paying to lecture you has not prayed, I would guess that he has probably thought it through. So sit down and listen to the man with more degrees than any other person in the room. He knows what he's been doing. He's been doing it for awhile.

And welcome back for the spring semester!

All The People You Meet Along The Way... Part Two

Hello all! I hope this Christmas season has been a wonderful one for you. Aside from spending a lot of time catching up with people back home, I've been thinking about all the people you meet in seminary and I've come up with another category. Although I don't think anyone would willingly admit to being in this group, I can name at least five people off the top of my head who are perfect for it. Here goes nothing...


Next we have: "We Don't Know We're Not Fun in the Real World"-ers

So, so often I have the joy of hearing people say, "People think I'm quiet and reserved, but they don't know how crazy, eccentric, and hilarious I really am!" To their credit-- these people are all of things in exactly the way you would expect an exceptionally conservative, right-wing republican who grew up in the mid-west to be. I would describe these people as being "seminary fun" but not "real world fun." It's kind of like watching Sixth Sense: "I see boring people. They're everywhere. They don't know they're boring..." And truly, they don't. These sweet, sweet people don't seem to understand that for as funny as their jokes are for after-church Sunday brunch small talk, they aren't going to have much success using the same lines with anyone who hasn't grown up in the church. There people think dispensationalist jokes are funny... and no one else does. Yet, it doesn't make them any less lovable. Sometimes, it just makes me want to hug them a little bit more. Trust me, I need all the affirmation I can get-- people don't think I'm funny most of the time. I'm working on being okay with that.

Do you know anyone like this?