In the Beginning

When I was halfway through my seminary education, I had to find a ministry placement, a kind of internship, to work in while I continued in my classes. The most logical option at the time was to be appointed to a student position to fulfill that requirement. So in June of 1991, I was appointed by Larry's District Superintendent to serve as an associate to a four-point charge. They were four small churches within commutable distance of our home in Ceresco, NE, where Larry was then serving. Since I was in class in Kansas City all week, I was basically supposed to preach in two of the churches each Sunday, alternating with the other pastor. The other pastor's name was Doug, and he was a first-time pastor, serving the churches there full-time. He didn't go to seminary, but had a college education and had gone through the one week of Licensing School in Nebraska.

Doug and I got along ok at the beginning. We didn't have to interact with each other much, since we preached in different churches every week, and I was in school during the week. I knew he was much more conservative than me, but again, that didn't affect me. I knew also that as a pastor that would begin the Course of Study route of education for ministry and become a Local Pastor and not seek ordination, he didn't think a seminary education was necessary.

I enjoyed preaching at the little churches on the weekends, seeing my name on the church boards out front as one of the pastors for the first time. I have pictures of all four of those church boards with me standing proudly nearby. All four churches were in little towns, some of which required travel on gravel roads, which was new to me, being from New Jersey. The little church in Denton, NE was a beautiful little white church, beautifully maintained by a huge endowment fund. Traveling on the gravel road to get there, I swerved to miss snakes and turtles every time, as they basked in the hot Nebraska sun-- right in my way. Another church was in the town of Pleasant Dale, which I thought was a wonderful name for a time. And it was pleasant. A sweet little town with many trees and a small neighborhood for kids to ride bikes safely and adults to go for a walk at night. Malcolm was a small town that was known to have a bar that served the best steak. The church itself was on top of a steep hill, with steps leading up that steep hill-- a challenge for myself to climb, much less the elderly membership of the church. There was on and off campaigns in the history of the church to build a new church, one that was handicap and elder-accessible, but the ones who were members forvever did not want to give on the old building. Even if their health or age prohibited them from attending the church as it was. Change never comes easy in the church world.... no matter how necessary.

The fourth church was in Raymond, another tiny town that was near a beautiful state park. We got our bait in the town of Raymond to attempt an afternoon of fishing.

The people responded well to me, my preaching, and my leading of worship. They helped me gain confidence in my gifts for ministry. The summer went smoothly, I was able to attend meetings on weeknights since I was out of school for summer break. I was able to attend other church functions that met during the week. When September came and I had to go back to school, that's when the tension started. Doug didn't think it was fair that I got paid for just showing up on Sundays and preaching. He tried to insist that I add to the list of responsibilities already agreed upon by the District Superintendent. But it was drilled in me that school came first, and most weekends I was deep in the books, writing papers, or studying for tests. One Sunday Doug's wife and kids showed up at one of my services. I felt I was being "checked out." Apparently some parishioners had told Doug that I was a good preacher, I know one older man suggested Doug might learn something from me. That is never good.

Doug's kids really liked my sermon and children's sermon and told me so after church. One weekend soon after, we had to meet with the Pastor-Parish Relations Committee to decide salaries, which meant basically they decided whether to give the pastors raises or not. I was sent out of the room for their discussion of me, but the walls were thin and I didn't trust Doug. And for good reason. I overheard him trying to convince them that I did not do my job and that he wanted them to cut my already meager student pastor salary and give what they cut to him on top of what he made. They considered it. They brought me back in to discuss it to see if there was more I could do for them to earn what they'd already agreed to give me.

I called the District Superintendent and asked to meet with him. I told him what happened. He did nothing. I called him again when they agreed to cut my salary and give it to Doug. The District Superintendent said he'd look into it, and did not. I'd heard that Doug was bad-mouthing me to parishioners behind my back, trying to lessen my credibility. I called the District Superintendent for help, he said he'd talk to Doug. He did not. I was stressed out. I could not get my D.S. to listen, much less be the advocate that he was supposed to be. It was hurting my grades as the stress interfered with my studies.

I called a special Staff-Parish Relations Committee meeting, as pastors are allowed to do, and I asked the D.S. to come. I'd written a letter to the committee that I read out loud in their presence, stating the events that had happened, my efforts to resolve it, and the lack of response. Therefore, I stated, I was leaving the position, effective immediately.

My D.S. was furious. I expected that. I called him on what he'd done, or rather, didn't do. He insisted I leave immediately, which I did. I was a nervous wreck. I had just moved halfway across the country months before to attend seminary in Kansas City, I'd gotten married in June, and was in my second semester of a new seminary with completely different expectations than my first one. Larry was with me, as he didn't want me to face the Big Man alone, and he took me for a drive. When we got home, there was furious message from the DS, demanding a meeting the next day. At that meeting, he gave me a dressing down, told me I'd had no right to do that. I made him look bad. I told him I couldn't get him to listen or address the problem, he'd ignored all my pleas for help. He was red in the face. He threatened me that this would reflect badly on me on future appointments. We were dismissed.

That was my first experience of the United Methodist appointive system.

I decided not to ask for another appointment while I was in seminary, I needed to focus on school. I'd gone through enough stress to get to Kansas City, to attend a school that I believed would better prepare me for local church ministry. I didn't need the added stress. A pastor from a large church in Lincoln who had been assigned to be my mentor, called me to meet. Being a woman, I hoped she'd be helpful. She, too, scolded me and defended the District Superintendent's actions and reminded me that if I was seeking eventual ordination, I would have to obey the System. What I heard was, "...no matter what." I understood early on that you don't question the System without a good slap in the face.

For my internship, Larry presented the idea to his own church board to hire me as an intern. There I preached once a month, helped start a Young Adult Group, start a Church Choir, and assist Larry with worship every week. I did that for two years, and we had a good time. I learned a lot. We started a Church Choir and it brought out gifts in me that I didn't know I had. We got a Young Adult Group started, did melodramas, got Gene Lowry to come and do a concert, and did a lot of creative things in worship. It was a good decision that resulted in good ministry for the church, and a time of healing for me. Ceresco (and Valparaiso) was good to us. They loved us as a newlywed couple, gave us a home, appreciated our gifts and were very kind to us. We had a good time, and I hated to leave when I graduated, which necessitated a move for both of us. They will always hold a special place in my heart....

There Are Days

there are days

i'm walking on flower petals

gentle underneath my toes

and uncrushed



fragrance of tulips, lilacs

colors of rainbows

so vivid

my eyes are moist

and anything

anything is possible



there are days

my skin tingles

with anticipation

and beauty radiates

in the eyes of another

and they don't even realize it



it's as if

all the filters are removed

from my senses

and the holy

permeates everything



and I giggle

because no one else

seems to know

and i've been privy

to a miraculous secret

while others go on

cursing at burnt toast

traffic jams

or kids throwing hissy fits in Wal-Mart