I really needed this week's session of Christian Life Community (CLC) and some delicious soup.
After a bowl of amazingly warm and satisfying chicken noodle soup with a piece of sun-dried tomato bready goodness (I can't actually remember what it was called), we met in our smaller groups. I don't know what other groups discussed, but in ours we talked mostly about personal issues adjusting to the community at LSTC. There were some boundaries that hadn't been broken down yet and it was good to really put whatever was on our minds in the open. I certainly came away feeling better and a little more confident in where I was at the time.

We talked about one thing that I think will stick with me for a very long time. One of the people in the group brought up how on the road to seminary she said she had felt God driving her all the way and that now she doesn't feel the same pull anymore, like God "dropped her off at day care" and that was really bothering her. Another member of the group replied that, "maybe it means that's where you're supposed to be". I was astonished by the idea. I had been feeling similarly and hearing her say that was important. After 4 weeks, the shine of the semester begins to wear off. Routines are established, friend circles are beginning to form, classes give out more work, and sometimes people are led to ask, "Where is God in all of this again?"

My answer this week is that God was in our small group session at CLC, comforting us and telling us it's alright to be where we are. It's natural and okay to doubt the roads we are on (like faith as well, I think) because it makes us pay attention to the other traffic conditions and, ultimately, we become better drivers. Personally, I'd much rather have better drivers on the road, especially in Chicago :)
Until next Friday!

Define "Fun" For Me, Please

Hi, Everyone! My name is Chad McKenna, and I'm a newly-appointed contributor to this blog. You may remember me as the benevolent ticket-bearer who invited Alex to front-row seats at a White Sox Game (see past posts for the story!). For the next year, you'll be reading stories about my experience as a pastoral intern from LSTC. I'm a candidate for ordination in the ELCA through the Indiana-Kentucky synod, and the internship year is the third year in the four-year Master of Divinity program at LSTC for those of us seeking ordination in the ELCA.

It's been about six weeks since I started my internship at The Lutheran Church of the Good Shepherd in Palos Heights, Illinois. On my first Sunday, which seems more like six days ago, I was introduced to the congregation and given gifts of welcome (the church cookbook, keys, a CD produced by the choir, and one of the pastor's freshly-picked tomatoes, among other things). I met a few hundred people all eager to tell me their names and to meet my wife, Andrea. And, after I assured each of them that they'd need to tell me their names again the next week, almost everyone exclaimed with a wink and a smirk, "Oh, you are going to have fun this year!"

After a while, I began to wonder what their definition of "fun" was.

Six weeks, later, I think I have a pretty good idea. With six hospital and home visits in the first week, as well as countless others since then; Three different book and bible studies every Tuesday, one of which I'm leading; Two sermons already preached; Forty-Two seventh graders in confirmation every Monday evening; Two raucous lunchtime events with the Over Fifty-Five Club; Joining the choir, along with Andrea; Deacons' meetings, church council meetings, internship committee meetings; and being immersed by baseball about thirty times in the dunk tank on Rally Day, I believe I'm getting a good grasp on how this congregation would define the word, "fun." And with a little over eleven months to go in my internship here, I can only hope that the fun won't ever stop.

Bumps In the Road

Sundays seems to be a day of solitude, of less stress and busyness; this is truly reflected as I ride my bike through a quietsubdivision in Northwestern Chicago Heights leaving the Metra stop at 7:30amon my way to my MIC church. Or perhaps this is because it is 7:30 in themorning and no one has stirred from their beds outside to fetch their morningpaper, which are littered not along sidewalks, but within their driveways as thesidewalks are noticeably absent.

Interesting take on community.

Driving the same route in a car, the road is smooth exceptfor the occasional pothole or the joyful season of construction when one gailystops to smell the fresh new tar and admire the brightly colored signs... screaming in frustration.

Being in Creation equals freedom, freedom to be loosenedfrom the constraints of society, melding one with the Divine, basking inbeautiful..rainy weather? So whose great idea was this anyway to gleefully geton a bike (a man’s one bought by mistake), enjoy traveling on the train (at6:45 in the morning) to ride through blissfully quiet (spooky) neighborhoods(cul de sacs with no sidewalks and one gated house with a police order standingwatch) and being good to the environment? Notwithstanding also all the healthyexercise I’m getting along with the pain in my legs, the cramp in my hands andmy glasses constantly falling off?

As I perused my bike route this morning, there is adifferent under my wheels of how the road winds and forms; it radiates withinmy muscles which doth protest too much. And yet as people of faith we find ourselves voicing our grumpiness and dissatisfaction when our own journey isbumpy, riddled with obstacles or covered with the morning dew of rain whileothers seem to have the sun shining down in perfect weather as they peddlealong.

Then again, there are benefits being in Creation,experiencing the softness of rain which sprinkles down as I am reminded of mybaptism. There are benefits in pushing my spirit up and over those bumps andtiny hills carved into the road because at the end of my journey there is restand respite, there is happiness with open arms awaiting me, there is laughterand light encouraging me to once more never quit and never give up.

God's Peace.