Author: katyandtheword

Pastor Katy has enjoyed ministry at New Covenant since 2010, where the church has solidified its community focus. She now works at Capital CFO plus as the Non Profit Director. All opinions expressed on this blog are her own and do not reflect those of Capital CFO plus. Prior to that she studied both Theology and Christian Formation at Princeton Theological Seminary. She also served as an Assistant Chaplain at Trenton Psychiatric Hospital and as the Christian Educational Coordinator at Bethany Presbyterian at Bloomfield, NJ. She is an writer and is published in Enfleshed, Sermonsuite, Presbyterian's today and Outlook. She writes prayers, liturgy, poems and public theology and is pursuing her doctorate in ministry in Creative Write and Pittsburgh Theological Seminary. She enjoys working within and connecting to the community, is known to laugh a lot during service, and tells as many stories as possible. Pastor Katy loves reading Science Fiction and Fantasy, theater, arts and crafts, music, playing with children and sunshine, and continues to try to be as (w)holistically Christian as possible. "Publisher after publisher turned down A Wrinkle in Time," L'Engle wrote, "because it deals overtly with the problem of evil, and it was too difficult for children, and was it a children's or an adult's book, anyhow?" The next year it won the prestigious John Newbery Medal. Tolkien states in the foreword to The Lord of the Rings that he disliked allegories and that the story was not one.[66] Instead he preferred what he termed "applicability", the freedom of the reader to interpret the work in the light of his or her own life and times.

Grief

My friend is trying to comfort someone who miscarried. “What can I do?” “How can I help?”

We talked about how this is one of those situations that just sucks until its over…

And we don’t have good ways to process miscarriage, we don’t usually have funerals or rituals.

So what is the right thing to do in this situation?

Whatever feels right. Our job, whenever there is mourning involved, is to sit by the person, to be present, to tell that person they are not alone. Our job is to be with people and let feel what they need to feel in this situation.

I have never met this woman, but I still can feel the pain of the loss…so here are some things I have to say to those who have miscarried.

I know that you were a mom, for all too brief a time, you were and are a real mom.

I know that you loved that child with your whole heart, and that you miss her. I know that you had gotten to know her, only a little bit, but that time was enough. Its not fair that you are without your child, its a terrible, horrible loss. And such injustice is angering.

So Be sad, be alone, it makes sense you hurt all over. It hurts because it was real, it was all real..and if you ever need someone to be sad, hurt or alone with, I’m here.

And…if I want to offer help, may I do more than offer “Whatever I can do, call me” because asking you to think of something when you are grieving is the opposite of helpful.

May I instead give a concrete suggestion that you can, unperturbed, say yes or no to. Offers like “Can I make you a meal?” “are there people I can tell for  you?” “Would you like me to stop by to give you a hug?” “Can I hang out with you, or help you get some time alone?”

And I want to tell you, you need to do what feels right for you. Do whatever you need to do. If your given a choice, don’t worry about the “right” way to mourn, just do whichever piece feels the best for you. I encourage you to do whatever you can to keep your connection to your child, to honor and remember her.

“If I sin, I pr…

“If I sin, I pray that my sin is to be too welcoming, and to have the door too wide open. Never do I want to stand before God and defend why I didn’t let someone into my community, family, church, faith or life because I kept the opening too narrow. I would rather explain why I let everyone in rather than defend why I kept one person out.”

-Rev. Katy Stenta

Being Christmassed! Xmas Links that get me in that holiday spirit!

Usually I’m Christmassed way before Thanksgiving. The love and joy and hope of Christmas descends upon me (usually unexpectedly)

However this year there were technical difficulties regarding a Santa Hat (how can I wear this if my children keep stealing it) Christmas Music (I still don’t know where my CDs are) A Church Production of Charlie Brown (Cancelled: sad day) and family (no one is able to visit us this year)…plus it just felt a little too fast.

This week I transitioned, somehow in reading Mary’s Joy–it became mine,

Luke 1 46And Mary said, “My soul magnifies the Lord, 47and my spirit rejoices in God my Savior, 48for he has looked with favor on the lowliness of his servant. Surely, from now on all generations will call me blessed; 49for the Mighty One has done great things for me, and holy is his name. 50His mercy is for those who fear him from generation to generation. 51He has shown strength with his arm; he has scattered the proud in the thoughts of their hearts. 52He has brought down the powerful from their thrones, and lifted up the lowly; 53he has filled the hungry with good things, and sent the rich away empty. 54He has helped his servant Israel, in remembrance of his mercy, 55according to the promise he made to our ancestors, to Abraham and to his descendants forever.” 56And Mary remained with her about three months and then returned to her home.

And THEN (magically) I found things on the internet that made me feel like Christmas

Things like an amazing version of Angels We Have Heard on High (4 guys, 1 piano)

Things like this retelling of Jesus “Brilliant, no one will be expecting that!”

Then there’s this little girl sharing the Christmas Spirit with her parents, through singing/signing ;P

And an old favorite hallelujah! which is how being suddenly Christmassed feels to me!

Many pastors believe in delayed gratification, that singing Christmas hymns during advent is akin to a sin.

I don’t. I do think in giving Thanksgiving its due, and try to wait until them to do Christmassy things (altho what happens in the privacy of your own car is your business)

But, I love Christmas, there is something truly infectious about it…even as it is commercialized, the feeling itself is magical.

and important

and a good

and I’ll try not to be TOO annoyingly happy about it

🙂

I think I’m going to go watch Charlie Brown Christmas now!

“Second, there …

“Second, there is no pre-Christian Jewish tradition suggesting that the messiah would be born of a virgin. No one used Isaiah 7:14 this way before Matthew did. Even assuming that Matthew or Luke regularly invented material to fit Jesus into earlier templates, why would they have invented something like this?”

http://www.religion-online.org/showarticle.asp?title=17  An interesting thought…then the author goes on to note that virginal births were traditional in Greek Religions, not Judaism….I think I lie in with the camp where we make miracles a bigger deal today, than the Biblical people did. Miracles happened all the time, it was Joseph still marrying Mary that was Amazing………(ie God’s work is wonderful, but human’s good work is even harder to come by)…..

Ch 4: Time

I begin to get oriented. The big whatchamacallit left, and as he passed a candle was lit.

Did I black out before that? I remember all the feelings I had, but I don’t know how much time passed, or if I really, actually saw anything.

The candle is flickering…..

Can something that shape even light a candle? I don’t even know if there are hands or claws or…

my mind went blank at “claws,” probably not a good direction for my thoughts to go. Maybe that’s how I blacked out to begin with.

The flickering candle is comforting…it marks the passage of time better than the dark does–it makes me think of morning….maybe I should go to bed. Its hard to tell without any windows.

I stand up–I’m surprised that I’m not shaky, maybe its because I’ve spent all my energy on the..confrontation. Ok, good to know for the future, when I go through an emotional rollercoaster, at some point, my body calms itself down.

I peer out to the hall, of course no one is there. There would be no sneaking in this place.

Determined, I pick up the candle and walk. Its only a hallway, I tell myself. Its not as if its a dungeon or the forest. My eyes follow a gold line trim on the wall, the gleam of it comforts me. Dancing in the light.

The first room I open, thankfully has a bed, I lie down. I carefully place the candle on the winged table nearby

I watch the shadows dance on the ceiling until I fall asleep.

My Santa Hat

My Santa Hat is older than my children.

I got it the first year of college at Oberlin.

At that time, I realized three things

1. I missed my family and church (the churches were CRAZY as a result of 9/11 and I couldn’t find a good one)

2. I wouldn’t be able to do much preparing for Christmas

3. People hated to be wished “Merry Christmas” something about the White Christian hegemony in a very liberal arts school.

Plus I had my first round of finals coming up (yikes!)

so I went to CVS and bought this really nice $5 Santa hat, it is a dark red with a clothlike white trim

I have worn it since that Dec 2001, ….and (amazingly) I haven’t lost it…

I wear it to celebrate Christmas

I wear it to celebrate Advent, to bring Christmas into conversations is a “safe space”

Every Thanksgiving I get it out, and start to celebrate.

Sometimes I think that God works less like a thunderous mountain of justice…and way more like my Santa hat.

 

Robin McKinely is contemplating Christmas’ approach too

My talkative one….

My son talks as much as I do….my eldest one….

he talks, and talks and talks….

Some of his talking includes the following traits

1. Asking a question and then immediately repeating it, so there is no time to answer (sometimes including frustration that the parent is not answering quick enough)

2. Talking too much in class (of course)

3. Waking me up in the middle of the night to say something that is REALLY important to tell me…usually something we just remembered about school. (although his father does that too)

4. Asking for explanations…(this is beyond the why? stage) where everything needs to

 

Defensive tactics for Sir Talksalot include

1. Not even trying to answer…or pretending that we didn’t hear the question

2. Reminding him not to talk as much, trying to think of quiet activities to do instead of talking

3. ….ugh…finally I usually tell him that its sleeping time, not talking time….

4. Telling him we don’t know…at the go, it doesn’t work to say that partially in…

5. Take time out of the day and make sure to pay full attention and talk directly with him at some point during the day!

Ch 3: Shadows

I tried to leave quietly. And as I left, I lit a candle and left it in the hallway…out of sight, but giving shadows.

I don’t think she cried.

At least, not while I was nearby.

What does crying sound like anyway….

What would it feel like to cry? I think back on my howls, on my stompings, on my running, running, running through the yard. Even angry and lost, even when I was sad, I still was trying to break out, to bust out of this cage. To become free. I am not just my body…

But if I’m not my body? Who am I?

I left her in the shadows, alone.

So alone, like me.

At least I didn’t leave her in the dark.

Chapter 2: Big

I take a deep breath, then another, and another, and another.

I can’t remember when I started taking deep breaths.

Ok, concentrate on something else–how about dark, it could be a friendly dark. Maybe if I can imagine the dark as friendly, then I can imagine the…..big watchmacallit….in it as friendly too.

or maybe I should concentrate on breathing….

there’s a kind of snort. Its not really angry sounding, its more like a sigh.

A really breathy sigh.

OK breathing.

There’s a theme here.

one breath, two breath, three breath, four breath…..when did I start counting?

Ch 1: Eyes

I can see her eyes.

She is squinting and trying to look at me. I slowly turn my head from side to side. No light. I don’t think she gets much. She has to feel my breath though, she has to feel how close I am…I am in no way small…I make an effort not to hunch, it won’t help any. She might not see me, but she is going to sense where I am.

I’m just lucky that I have such good night vision.

It frustrates me though, I can’t tell what color her eyes are. They look….darkish? Perhaps. In all my years here I never imagined what she would look like. I don’t think I’ve seen a human in years…the man who was here looked so fragile.

I want to ask her what her name is, I can’t remember it.

I snort a little bit in my frustration…she jumps, but not violently. I thought this would be the beginning of the end. I thought that I would start to feel freedom, that I would be able to look towards the future.

I feel more trapped than ever.

I don’t remember humans, I don’t really know how they look or feel, I can’t even remember the woman’s name. And I don’t know how to ask.

I can’t ask her. her name.

I don’t even know the color of her eyes.