Yes, we've moved. No, not again physically, but virtually. Check out our new site at www.prairieparsonage.com
Wednesday, May 1, 2013
Monday, April 22, 2013
An Open Letter to AJ Clemente
Dear AJ,
You don't know me and I don't know you. In fact, before yesterday, I hadn't even heard your name. Then I saw it. Your first moments of your first professional job. Not gonna lie, it was excruciating and hilarious to watch all at the same time.
The Rev. and I read through your twitter account. We felt your nervous excitement as you made your way across the U.S. to land in the frozen tundra of Bismarck. We saw the pictures of your of your first apartment and you dressed up in your suit for your very first day on tv. You told your story, emotions in all, and did it in 140 character snippets. This was not an easy task, but you did it wonderfully.
You, AJ, from your twitter account, are not new to unwholesome words. But then, neither are any of us. We may not swear, but I can bet at one time or another, we have all used damaging and hurtful words. Gossip, slander, or just plain crudeness.
I'm guessing and hoping that you learned your lesson. I'm sorry that you learned it the hard way. My husband and I both recounted the numerous stupid mistakes and just plain arrogance in our first jobs. But, we were blessed with bosses who took us under their wings, believed in us and made us better.
My first job was as an admissions counselor at a seminary in Canada. I know a little something about making a major move to start your career. I was putting my hubs through seminary. Married less than 6 months, out of college less than a year and dead broke, I walked into my office to start my practically-pays-nothing job. I was stupid. I did stupid things. Looking back, I am embarrassed at much of my behavior. But, I learned. I had a boss who showed me grace and in many ways was Christ to me in a difficult time in my life.
We later moved back to the states and I worked for a seminary where the President, Mike Hagan, told me on my first day, "It's ok to try new things and make mistakes, just don't make the same mistakes again." That stuck with me and shaped me more than Mr. Hagan will ever know.
I know that some reading this may not agree with me, but I think you getting fired was a bit too harsh. You didn't know your mic was on. I realize that in your field, one should always act as if the mic is on. But you screwed up, royally. Don't we all sometimes? And, although you shouldn't have used those words, regardless if it was on or not, it makes me think of all the times I have opened my big mouth and said plenty of things I shouldn't have.
So, I say this, not because I am perfect, but because I know the One who is. No matter how low we sink in life, no matter what stupid things we say and do, we are forgiven in Christ. Yes, there are consequences that go with our actions and those aren't automatically taken away. But, there is forgiveness in Christ and hopefully, we can find it in our hearts to forgive each other.
Personally, as a mom, I would rather have my kids see someone who messed up, apologized and learned from his mistake, than someone who pretends to have it all together. After all, we are all sinners in need of a savior.
So, before my readers (all four of you!:) start sending hate mail, please know this. I am not writing this because I feel that profanity isn't a big deal. It is. Our mouth is a wellspring of what is in our hearts. I am not writing this because I think I am perfect. I am writing this as a person who is grateful for the grace and kindness she has received from her employers. It has been something that has carried me through hard times and something that I hope I can emulate to others.
Keep your chin up AJ! Learn from your mistakes and know that there are many, many people who are pulling for you. I look forward to watching your career and seeing how God uses you in the years to come!
Katie
You don't know me and I don't know you. In fact, before yesterday, I hadn't even heard your name. Then I saw it. Your first moments of your first professional job. Not gonna lie, it was excruciating and hilarious to watch all at the same time.
The Rev. and I read through your twitter account. We felt your nervous excitement as you made your way across the U.S. to land in the frozen tundra of Bismarck. We saw the pictures of your of your first apartment and you dressed up in your suit for your very first day on tv. You told your story, emotions in all, and did it in 140 character snippets. This was not an easy task, but you did it wonderfully.
You, AJ, from your twitter account, are not new to unwholesome words. But then, neither are any of us. We may not swear, but I can bet at one time or another, we have all used damaging and hurtful words. Gossip, slander, or just plain crudeness.
I'm guessing and hoping that you learned your lesson. I'm sorry that you learned it the hard way. My husband and I both recounted the numerous stupid mistakes and just plain arrogance in our first jobs. But, we were blessed with bosses who took us under their wings, believed in us and made us better.
My first job was as an admissions counselor at a seminary in Canada. I know a little something about making a major move to start your career. I was putting my hubs through seminary. Married less than 6 months, out of college less than a year and dead broke, I walked into my office to start my practically-pays-nothing job. I was stupid. I did stupid things. Looking back, I am embarrassed at much of my behavior. But, I learned. I had a boss who showed me grace and in many ways was Christ to me in a difficult time in my life.
We later moved back to the states and I worked for a seminary where the President, Mike Hagan, told me on my first day, "It's ok to try new things and make mistakes, just don't make the same mistakes again." That stuck with me and shaped me more than Mr. Hagan will ever know.
I know that some reading this may not agree with me, but I think you getting fired was a bit too harsh. You didn't know your mic was on. I realize that in your field, one should always act as if the mic is on. But you screwed up, royally. Don't we all sometimes? And, although you shouldn't have used those words, regardless if it was on or not, it makes me think of all the times I have opened my big mouth and said plenty of things I shouldn't have.
So, I say this, not because I am perfect, but because I know the One who is. No matter how low we sink in life, no matter what stupid things we say and do, we are forgiven in Christ. Yes, there are consequences that go with our actions and those aren't automatically taken away. But, there is forgiveness in Christ and hopefully, we can find it in our hearts to forgive each other.
Personally, as a mom, I would rather have my kids see someone who messed up, apologized and learned from his mistake, than someone who pretends to have it all together. After all, we are all sinners in need of a savior.
So, before my readers (all four of you!:) start sending hate mail, please know this. I am not writing this because I feel that profanity isn't a big deal. It is. Our mouth is a wellspring of what is in our hearts. I am not writing this because I think I am perfect. I am writing this as a person who is grateful for the grace and kindness she has received from her employers. It has been something that has carried me through hard times and something that I hope I can emulate to others.
Keep your chin up AJ! Learn from your mistakes and know that there are many, many people who are pulling for you. I look forward to watching your career and seeing how God uses you in the years to come!
Katie
Sunday, March 24, 2013
Reflections on Palm Sunday
Palm Sunday. The day we shout "Hosanna!" The day we give praise to the Savior. The day we realize, that Jesus is not just an ordinary man, but something much more. We shout as loudly as we can, with as much emotion as we can possibly muster. But, by Friday, just as passionately, we are shouting "crucify him!"
I say we, because it is we who put the nails in his hands. It is us, you and I, who hung him on the cross. It is us who spat in his face. It is us, in need of his grace. It is you, it is me.
How is it that on Sunday we can praise him? Praise him to the point that we are as the Rev. describes it, "wildly chopping palm branches down." We take off our coats and lay them on the dirty, dusty ground so that a donkey, an animal can walk over them. How is it that on Sunday we praise him and by Friday we despise him?
I'm not sure, but whether we admit or not, we all do it. Sure, we may not feel as if we despise him, but our actions say otherwise. We gossip, we hate, we envy. We keep the bountiful blessings He gives us to ourselves. "It is my time, it is my money," we say. I am as guilty as the next.
We look at history, at the Holy Week in scriptures and pretend that we would not have been one of the traitors. We pretend that we would not be one of "those people" who praised Him and then hated Him. We do this in the same way we blame the Israelites for complaining about manna, all while impatiently waiting for the latest Facebook updates to load on our smartphones.
Sinners, traitors, jealous and impatient, we are. Not one of us deserves it, but all who ask receive it. The gift of Grace. The beautiful, incomprehensible gift of Grace. Grace that we fail to extend to others, but continue to receive from the Father.
Today I watched my sweet boy and sweet girl exuberantly wave their palm branches and sing. But, I know they too, are human. They are sinful and as they age, as they learn to cope in this broken world, they will too, will despise him through their actions. It breaks my heart to think of that. It puts a knot in the pit of my stomach. You see, Jesus came for me, for which I am eternally grateful, but he came for my children too, and as a mother that strikes an even deeper cord within me.
So, as Little E and KJ grow, as they turn their backs on Christ daily, just as the rest of us do, I also know that the story does not end there. Because the week continues and culminates into a glorious ending. They are, you are and I am saved. Not because of our actions, but in spite of them. And that, my friends, is worth shouting for.
Blessed Palm Sunday!
I say we, because it is we who put the nails in his hands. It is us, you and I, who hung him on the cross. It is us who spat in his face. It is us, in need of his grace. It is you, it is me.
 |
| Palm Sunday-Hosanna! |
I'm not sure, but whether we admit or not, we all do it. Sure, we may not feel as if we despise him, but our actions say otherwise. We gossip, we hate, we envy. We keep the bountiful blessings He gives us to ourselves. "It is my time, it is my money," we say. I am as guilty as the next.
We look at history, at the Holy Week in scriptures and pretend that we would not have been one of the traitors. We pretend that we would not be one of "those people" who praised Him and then hated Him. We do this in the same way we blame the Israelites for complaining about manna, all while impatiently waiting for the latest Facebook updates to load on our smartphones.
Sinners, traitors, jealous and impatient, we are. Not one of us deserves it, but all who ask receive it. The gift of Grace. The beautiful, incomprehensible gift of Grace. Grace that we fail to extend to others, but continue to receive from the Father.
So, as Little E and KJ grow, as they turn their backs on Christ daily, just as the rest of us do, I also know that the story does not end there. Because the week continues and culminates into a glorious ending. They are, you are and I am saved. Not because of our actions, but in spite of them. And that, my friends, is worth shouting for.
Monday, March 11, 2013
Going the Distance
My son has an Elmo video about numbers. The geniuses behind Sesame Street know that their catchy tunes will replay in the viewers mind over and over and over again. For preschoolers that's awesome. For parents, not so cool. But, one of the songs is about the number five. Yes, an entire song about the number 5. A song that every time I hear the word 5, the lyrics begin their never ending loop through my head. Much like those annoying songs you would sing on the bus as a kid.
This song is significant around the Prairie Parsonage because we have made it over 5 years. No, not our marriage (although it has), but 5 years in ministry, rural ministry at that. We are actually coming up on 7 years in full time ministry together and each Labor Day (our ministry anniversary) I feel like I should bake a cake in honor of the occasion!
Why is this such a big deal? Because we've (or really Christ working through us) have beat the odds. Statistics state that any where from 50% - 80% of pastors quit the ministry within 5 years of seminary graduation. In a world that is in need of the gospel, this is a big deal. If it were any other field, teaching, medicine, law enforcement, etc. it would be considered a crisis. It would most likely be reported on by the major networks. Sadly, ministry is no longer considered essential by our culture.
The Rev. and I have both had a desire to help our fellow ministry friends. We have been blessed with mentors and friends along the way to whom we could turn to in a difficult situation. Without this, I'm sure I would have bagged the ministry a long time ago.
That's where The First Five Years comes in. We have been tossing around ideas for a ministry that would help those in ministry. We've been praying about how to specifically address the crisis of clergy leaving the ministry. How can we make a difference for those who are in their first five years of ministry?
So, what we want to know is this. If you are in ministry or have been in ministry, what kept you going or what made you quit? What are some things that you wished you would have known when starting out? Most importantly, what tools/resources did you wish had during that time? Please comment below or email us at prairieparsonage@hotmail.com. Any insight you have, whether you are a paid pastor, lay leader, pastor's wife or pastor's kid would be extremely helpful.
Here's to running the race with perseverance and to another 5 years of this adventure!
Katie
 |
| Elmo giving 5...well, 4 actually |
This song is significant around the Prairie Parsonage because we have made it over 5 years. No, not our marriage (although it has), but 5 years in ministry, rural ministry at that. We are actually coming up on 7 years in full time ministry together and each Labor Day (our ministry anniversary) I feel like I should bake a cake in honor of the occasion!
Why is this such a big deal? Because we've (or really Christ working through us) have beat the odds. Statistics state that any where from 50% - 80% of pastors quit the ministry within 5 years of seminary graduation. In a world that is in need of the gospel, this is a big deal. If it were any other field, teaching, medicine, law enforcement, etc. it would be considered a crisis. It would most likely be reported on by the major networks. Sadly, ministry is no longer considered essential by our culture.
The Rev. and I have both had a desire to help our fellow ministry friends. We have been blessed with mentors and friends along the way to whom we could turn to in a difficult situation. Without this, I'm sure I would have bagged the ministry a long time ago.
That's where The First Five Years comes in. We have been tossing around ideas for a ministry that would help those in ministry. We've been praying about how to specifically address the crisis of clergy leaving the ministry. How can we make a difference for those who are in their first five years of ministry?
So, what we want to know is this. If you are in ministry or have been in ministry, what kept you going or what made you quit? What are some things that you wished you would have known when starting out? Most importantly, what tools/resources did you wish had during that time? Please comment below or email us at prairieparsonage@hotmail.com. Any insight you have, whether you are a paid pastor, lay leader, pastor's wife or pastor's kid would be extremely helpful.
Here's to running the race with perseverance and to another 5 years of this adventure!
Katie
Thursday, February 14, 2013
A Different Kind of Valentine's Day
Maybe we are getting old (after all, the Rev. did just turn 40), or maybe, just maybe, the inhabitants of the Prairie Parsonage are becoming content.
Back in the day, when I used a can of Aqua Net on my hair and I rolled my jeans, I imagined holidays like Valentine's Day as romantic dinners in Paris where I would be surprised with something diamond. 20 plus years, two kids and 1.5 seminary degrees later, I know the reality. The reality is that not EVERY holiday is so glamorous and the reality is, I wouldn't want it that way.
Last weekend, as the Rev. and I were discussing what we should do on this Day of Love, we decided to stay home. Without a sitter. Meaning we decided to spend the evening not as a couple, but rather with a couple of sugared up kids. It was a bold move. On holidays involving large amounts of candy, I usually like to get a sitter and leave the county only to come back long after the craziness has subsided. But, thanks to some exhaustion and the fact that Dave Ramsey has us on a budget, we ate pizza and hung out as a family. I have to say, it was a lot of fun.
Had I tried to live the high life, I would have missed out on some of the best moments I've had in a long time. My 21 month old gave me a Valentine with her little signature on it. My four year old colored me a picture of the fiery furnace surrounded by hearts- no, not hearts on fire diamonds, but rather Rack, Shack and Benny in a blaze. My husband bathed the kids while I relaxed. In essence, the night was pretty much like most nights around here. But, you see, because of what Christ has done for our family, what He has brought us through, a regular night is actually an extraordinary night.
Near poverty during seminary, hectic early years of ministry, postpartum (and just plain old) depression, have made me thankful to just live regularly. The hard times have helped us persevere
and the perseverance has led to contentment.
I guess all in all, it was a "love chapter" kind of day, full of patience and kindness. I guess getting old and becoming content isn't so bad after all!
Happy Valentine's Day!
Back in the day, when I used a can of Aqua Net on my hair and I rolled my jeans, I imagined holidays like Valentine's Day as romantic dinners in Paris where I would be surprised with something diamond. 20 plus years, two kids and 1.5 seminary degrees later, I know the reality. The reality is that not EVERY holiday is so glamorous and the reality is, I wouldn't want it that way.
Last weekend, as the Rev. and I were discussing what we should do on this Day of Love, we decided to stay home. Without a sitter. Meaning we decided to spend the evening not as a couple, but rather with a couple of sugared up kids. It was a bold move. On holidays involving large amounts of candy, I usually like to get a sitter and leave the county only to come back long after the craziness has subsided. But, thanks to some exhaustion and the fact that Dave Ramsey has us on a budget, we ate pizza and hung out as a family. I have to say, it was a lot of fun.
 |
| A Fiery Furnace Valentine! |
Near poverty during seminary, hectic early years of ministry, postpartum (and just plain old) depression, have made me thankful to just live regularly. The hard times have helped us persevere
and the perseverance has led to contentment.
I guess all in all, it was a "love chapter" kind of day, full of patience and kindness. I guess getting old and becoming content isn't so bad after all!
Happy Valentine's Day!
Saturday, November 3, 2012
40 Years Is Really Long
40 years. No, it's not how old I am. Not even close. No, it's not how old The Rev. is (although that is close). It is how long the Israelites wandered through the dessert. 40 long and excruciating years. The cried out to God, they grumbled, they complained. They did exactly what you and I would do. They balked at the miracle of bread literally falling from heaven. Because lets be honest, even a miracle can seem routine and mundane when it happens everyday.
But, despite the fact that they behaved like a whiny toddler on a long road trip, God delivered them into the Promised Land.
So folks, as we are approaching the end of the political season, the end of a grueling, miserable, phone ringing, mailbox full of fliers, commercials galore time in our lives, know that come Tuesday, God will deliver us (depending on who you want to win, you may or may not consider it being delivered into the Promised Land! :)
Enjoy your extra hour!
But, despite the fact that they behaved like a whiny toddler on a long road trip, God delivered them into the Promised Land.
So folks, as we are approaching the end of the political season, the end of a grueling, miserable, phone ringing, mailbox full of fliers, commercials galore time in our lives, know that come Tuesday, God will deliver us (depending on who you want to win, you may or may not consider it being delivered into the Promised Land! :)
Enjoy your extra hour!
Sunday, August 19, 2012
It is Well with My Soul.
Last week, I was blessed to have some new friends over. They are a group of mamas who love the Lord and are raising children to live for them. The conversation naturally turned to our churches and then to music. My church usually has a blended service, which works well for us as a family. We know it's not everyone's cup of tea, but we like it. It wasn't always that way though.
I was a die hard contemporary worship music fan. That was until my era of favorite worship songs wasn't so contemporary any more. It actually makes me feel a bit old. After much discussion and debate at the parsonage, the Rev. and I have decided that we are stuck in the 90's when it comes to our favorite songs (and no, for those of you who were in church this morning, this was not a "discussion" where I had to submit to my husband. For as many differences as we have, we actually agreed on this).
As time wore on, these songs were played less and less in churches. They became a thing of the past, like a discman, dial up internet, and my Beanie Baby collection. The problem for me was that many of these songs weren't just about personal taste (and as you can tell from my references above, I do have great taste) they were memories, markers of my spiritual journey.
Then it hit me, every song has some sort of meaning for someone. Today, we sang, "It is Well with My Soul" by Horatio Stafford. Let's just say that our church was rockin' a 139 year old hymn with an organ. I couldn't help but think, how many people throughout those 139 years have found comfort in the words of this hymn? How many cried out to God in anguish while singing these very words? Today, I raised my voice in gratitude and praise during this song, but this wasn't always the case. It has been a favorite in both good times and in bad.
No matter where you may land in the worship wars (I personally think a good round of "Better is One Day" should be required at every service), the important part is to praise God with all you've got. Easier said than done. But, like my new friend Jaimi (who has an awesome blog www.himseekingme.blogspot.com) said last week said, "The important thing is to sing with your heart." Ok, she actually said it much more eloquently than that, but my paraphrase will have to do. Sorry Jaimi.
So, whether you are young or old, love rock and roll, or a good old fashioned organ tune, I promise you will gain something from this video. Blessings to you all and I pray that it is well with your soul.
I was a die hard contemporary worship music fan. That was until my era of favorite worship songs wasn't so contemporary any more. It actually makes me feel a bit old. After much discussion and debate at the parsonage, the Rev. and I have decided that we are stuck in the 90's when it comes to our favorite songs (and no, for those of you who were in church this morning, this was not a "discussion" where I had to submit to my husband. For as many differences as we have, we actually agreed on this).
As time wore on, these songs were played less and less in churches. They became a thing of the past, like a discman, dial up internet, and my Beanie Baby collection. The problem for me was that many of these songs weren't just about personal taste (and as you can tell from my references above, I do have great taste) they were memories, markers of my spiritual journey.
Then it hit me, every song has some sort of meaning for someone. Today, we sang, "It is Well with My Soul" by Horatio Stafford. Let's just say that our church was rockin' a 139 year old hymn with an organ. I couldn't help but think, how many people throughout those 139 years have found comfort in the words of this hymn? How many cried out to God in anguish while singing these very words? Today, I raised my voice in gratitude and praise during this song, but this wasn't always the case. It has been a favorite in both good times and in bad.
No matter where you may land in the worship wars (I personally think a good round of "Better is One Day" should be required at every service), the important part is to praise God with all you've got. Easier said than done. But, like my new friend Jaimi (who has an awesome blog www.himseekingme.blogspot.com) said last week said, "The important thing is to sing with your heart." Ok, she actually said it much more eloquently than that, but my paraphrase will have to do. Sorry Jaimi.
So, whether you are young or old, love rock and roll, or a good old fashioned organ tune, I promise you will gain something from this video. Blessings to you all and I pray that it is well with your soul.
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