I'm a big kid now

There are moments when you realized you have crossed a threshold in life, and you just won't be able to go back. For most people it comes with landmark birthdays: 18,21, 25 (for some) and 30 are a few that I have crossed and crossed with friends. You can relive a part of what's past from time to time, but it's not quite the same.

I am getting ready to take office as student body president. I don't say this to gloat or rub it in the face of anyone reading. Honestly, I'm nervous about it. For as confident as I was a few weeks ago while "campaigning" through letting people know where I stood on issues and where I saw the future of the school, I now stand in awe of the power, trust and respect (on both sides) that is placed with this office.

When I first came to seminary, I stood in awe of the people whose positions I am filling or am about to fill. I looked up to them and respected them. These were people who could make change happen, and they did. When students needed help, they were there. They rallied around those who had little or no voice and made sure they were heard. Now I am being entrusted with that legacy. I feel a little like Queen Elizabeth I - overwhelmed, never thought I'd be here, and yet ready to go.

I'm also facing the very real scenario of being a pastor. People ask me for advice, and I am being asked to lead in times of crisis. What I say and do (or don't say or don't do for that matter) actually means something. I have the ability to build up or tear down. I only hope that I am receptive enough to the movement of the Holy Spirit to do either of these things for the betterment of God's Kingdom on earth.

If I stand in these positions thinking it's on my own merit, I know I will fail. The person who believes she is the one with the power is the one who is estranged from God. She has an uphill battle to fight. God is not absent - she just didn't ask for God's help. So, I need to remember that God wants to do something with me - just as I am and just where I am. If I do that, along with prayer and other means of grace, I stand the best chance of seeing what God has in store.

It's scary to cross this threshold. I'm glad to know I'm not alone. God put angels on earth to help guide me through. Perhaps I will be used as an angel to help guide someone else through this thing we call life. Perhaps...

Can you keep a secret?

I thought the hardest thing about going into ministry was going to be keeping secrets. Sometimes it would be information to the congregation and sometimes about the congregation. I expected that people would just tell me things and I would have to learn to swallow it or just let it roll off my shoulders like water on teflon. I have since learned I was wrong. The thing about other people's secrets is that they were never mine to begin with. I never had to wrestle with the decisions surrounding them. I can lighten the burden for a while, but I will never completely take it.

What I have discovered about ministry is this, the hardest thing about it is knowing people feel they have to keep secrets from you. I took it for granted that people would tell me things. They don't have to do it. In the past week, many people I know have shared very personal things with me. I won't betray their trust by listing them here, but they were carrying heavy burdens along with the burden of guilt or shame. It wasn't that these people didn't really trust me - they didn't want to be vulnerable and be hurt in the most sensitive spot. And yet, I hurt. I hurt because they felt they had to go it alone. I feel bad that situations had to come to a point where they could no longer hide the truth and then told me. It's not that I feel betrayed - that's not it at all. I just wish they didn't feel they had to carry the burden alone.

I'm not one to hide much in my life. For better or worse, I lay it all out there for people to see. Some come to me because they know I will understand. Some seize the opportunity to strike me at the heart of what hurts. Some will look at it all and simply walk away. I have a greater appreciation for those who practice a more cautious approach to sharing their lives. It's not a matter of courage. I am no more courageous than anyone else. What I have learned is that by holding back there is a deeper sense of intimacy. When only a few, as opposed to many, know a core part of you, they sense how deep a connection is there.

To my many friends - the ones I know, and the ones I have yet to meet - thank you for all that you share with me. If I have not helped ease your burden, I am ready to help when you are ready. I only hope that you don't feel you have to carry it alone.