Posted by Tagged with evolving faith, Faith, Reflection, spiritual direction Posted in Uncategorized

My Words of the Year

I posted on Facebook asking people to share their word of the year and was surprised how many of you already had a word in mind on December 31st. I thought I’d share how I came to my words – yes, I have 2 words for the year.

I made a list of a whole bunch of words that came to mind and the one that stood out to me like it was being highlighted was the word STRETCHED. I have been stretched outside of my comfort zone with moving, traveling, and doing some public speaking this year. I believe that stretching will continue this year in several different areas. As someone with a history of back problems, stretching my physical body is an important part of my staying healthy.

When I asked Mark about his word, he told me it was MALLEABLE. I asked him to look up the definition from Google and read it aloud to me. He read the definition: “Able to be hammered or pressed permanently out of shape without breaking or cracking.” Then he paused and said, “you’re not going to believe this!” He continued to read the Google definition which said (I kid you not)

“Anna was shaken enough to be malleable”

Because this word became highlighted with my name on it in the dictionary, I decided to add it as one of MY words of the year as well. The definition is correct. I have gone through a fair amount of shaking. We all go through seasons of shaking in our lives, whether that be from the shaking of our beliefs, relationships, job, or health. Through the shaking, we are shaped and changed. We become more flexible, more able to see other perspectives, and more ok with uncertainty and unanswered questions.

My shaking started when we went through extreme financial hardship and had to move back home with my parents when Malia was a baby. It continued when some of the people closest to me abandoned their faith in God and stopped going to church with me. There were many other challenges that I won’t get into here.

Some people refer to this shaking as “the wall” It is a place in our spiritual lives when it feels impossible to pass through. You don’t get through the wall quickly and how you get through is different for every person. I was at the wall in my faith for what felt like close to 10 years. During that time, I often felt like an outsider “pretending to fit” in Christian circles. I didn’t feel like reading the Bible and had more questions than answers.

After returning from our 6-month road trip in May, it felt like something majorly shifted in my spiritual life and relationship with God. I can’t tell you why or how, it was just time for a new season. I still wrestle with many of the same issues and questions when it comes to church, but I can hear God speaking to me again, loud and clear, and miraculously personal.

Are you curious about spiritual things? I am looking to be trained as a spiritual director starting in 2024. I am excited to walk with others along their journey of seeking what a spiritual life might look like. Questions and uncertainty are welcome.

Posted by Tagged with Faith, family meals, hospitality Posted in Uncategorized

What’s Your Hospitality Hang-up?

Excuses We Tell Ourselves to Avoid Having Company Over

My Pastor, Eric, at Summit Church has been encouraging us to invite people over for a meal or coffee. Hospitality has always been something I’m excited about, so I’ve been asking myself, “Why do I so rarely invite people over?”

What are the excuses I find to avoid hosting? I thought I’d share a few in case it might help others who have similar hangups.

Over Thinking – I overthink almost everything. Who should I invite? What if they say No? What if they say Yes? What if my space isn’t large enough? What if we don’t have enough chairs? What would we eat? What if I don’t make enough food and we run out? What if they have food allergies? What if their kids don’t get along with my kids? What if my house is messy? What if we run out of things to talk about?

Ok. You get the idea. I haven’t even asked anyone to come over yet, and my brain is already overloaded with “What ifs.”

Here’s the deal. People just want to be invited. They don’t care what you serve or what your house looks like or even the reason for the visit. They just want to be invited – to feel like they belong. I can offer that belonging. Yes, that is definitely something I can do and do well. How about you? Do you want your home to be a place of welcome? Do you want to create a space where people can open up and share their stories?

Let me encourage you with a few things I’ve learned from the times I’ve said “Yes” to hosting.

Go with your first instinct. Do you have to know much about the person to invite them? No. Do you have to have a plan for what will happen during your time together or how you will follow it up? No.

What gets scheduled is more likely to get done. I can think about something forever, but until it’s on the calendar, it usually doesn’t happen.

One of the biggest reasons I don’t invite people over is I struggle with what to cook. Is there one thing you love to make that you do well? Do that. Make the same thing every time and don’t feel bad about it. Not into cooking? Order some pizzas and have everyone chip in to cover the cost. Do you feel like food is a hindrance for some reason? Schedule your get together when it’s not mealtime. You could serve tea, coffee, a simple snack like popcorn or ice cream sundaes, or nothing at all.

Don’t get hung up on needing a “Purpose” for the get together. I often feel like I need to have a reason to have someone over. That’s simply not the case. When we give up control of the reason for the gathering, we can let things unfold naturally and be surprised.

Make hosting a regular part of your life and not something you only do on special occasions. Mark and I have decided to make Friday nights our regular “company night”

The more you do it, the easier and more natural it becomes. Do you feel overwhelmed by the thought of hosting? Find someone who finds it easy and ask them to help you get started. Don’t compare yourself to them though. Beginners should never compare themselves to someone who has mastery of something. This applies to hospitality as much as anything.

Be careful not to compare your home to someone else’s or apologize for the home you currently live in. We have always lived in very small places. Once we invited a pastor and his wife to our small duplex in South Minneapolis and I began apologizing, saying “I’m sorry our place is so small” The pastor’s wife gave me a strong but loving reprimand saying, “This home is a gift to you and don’t you dare apologize.” I’ve been to peoples’ houses where we have put blankets on the floor and sat picnic style. I’ve never been put off by a small space. Sometimes it means we can’t stay quite as long, but I’ve always walked away grateful for the invitation.

I’m guessing there are some people who cannot host for various reasons. If this is you, what about inviting someone to a park or public space? Maybe you could partner up with someone else who has the space to host, and you provide some of the food, do the inviting, or help with the cleanup.

In summary, figure out what YOUR excuses and hangups are. What is preventing you from seeing your home as a welcoming place to invite others? Talk through your hangups with a trusted friend if you need some clarity. Push yourself out of your comfort zone. If hospitality is something you feel strongly about, it’s time to make a move. Decide who to invite and set a date. If they say no, don’t give up – ask someone else. Don’t overthink the details. Go with your gut and BE YOURSELF. Starting something new is the hardest part. Once you get the hospitality train going, who knows where it will take you.

Posted by Tagged with church, evolving faith, Faith Posted in Uncategorized

To church or not to church?

It’s Sunday. Growing up that meant going to church. We always went to church. The only reason we didn’t go is if we were sick or out of town. Even in a snowstorm, church was rarely cancelled. Those who were able found a way to get there. It was a family affair. Everyone went. No questions asked.

This fierce loyalty to a Sunday gathering of believers stuck with me through college and into adulthood. I simply COULD NOT skip church. Anytime I did, I heard a voice in my ear saying “don’t forsake the gathering of believers as some are in the habit of doing.” This was a Bible verse frequently quoted as a reason not to skip church.

I never asked myself if I liked going to church. It was just something I did. As I moved from place to place in my young adult life, I found myself finding a similar church in whatever new place I went. These churches all had in common an emphasis on loyalty and being “under authority”. Everyone loved you until you left. If you moved to another similar church, “fine”, but if you moved to a more “progressive or liberal church” or became Catholic or ELCA Lutheran (God forbid!) that was not OK. I could anticipate the shaking of the head and deep sigh from the church leaders as they watched people leave for other churches.

In my 30’s, I began to question my faith traditions for the first time. I became tired and disillusioned with church as I had always known it. A lot of it no longer seemed relevant. My husband and I decided to stop going to church on Sundays for awhile. It was such a strange feeling. We would go to parks and see families playing together and enjoying the weather and time in nature on a Sunday morning. They seemed so relaxed and happy. They weren’t thinking about who was in church and who wasn’t. After being in active ministry and highly involved in the ins and outs of a Sunday service for my entire life, this shift was just plain weird.

I started seeing the world through a non-church lens. I started meeting people on Sunday mornings that I never had time to meet when I was in church. I started Resting on Sundays. Those who have been in a ministry position know that Sundays are never restful. I started seeing the church as more than just a building where people gathered on Sundays at 10am. This break from church was an important time for me. A needed a change of pace to shake some unhelpful religious ideas off of me.

After awhile, I started to miss church services. I missed the singing, being able to ask someone for prayer, the pot luck dinners, the feeling of being a part of a community that cares for each other. I even missed the quirky and weird parts of church. Every church I’ve ever been to is just weird. Even the ones that are trying to not be. I went back again with new eyes. I saw all the flaws and I saw the trappings of trying to organize something that Jesus intended to be free flowing and organic. I saw the downsides to hierarchy and the pride in thinking we have it figured out or know the “right way”. I accepted the fact that church will never be what I want it to be. I accepted the fact that God is much bigger than one church or one type of church but still chooses to use the people in them.

How each believer chooses to “be the church” will look differently. I no longer judge someone who chooses to not “go to church” on Sunday. My husband doesn’t go to church and neither do my teenagers most of the time. I’m sad about that sometimes, but I never want them to feel that church attendance is required to gain my love and acceptance. I want my husband and kids’ faith to be their own. I now realize that there are lots of different ways that people choose to worship and I am not meant to be the judge of which way is best.

Today I woke up and didn’t feel like going to church. That old feeling of guilt came back as strong as ever and I lay in bed for a half hour wrestling with myself. Then, I decided to stay home. It was good and it was what was needed for today.

How about you? Do you have a complicated history with church? Do Sundays look the same for you now as they did as a child or young adult? I’d love to hear about it.



Posted by Tagged with Faith, family, family memories, moving, Reflection, St Paul Posted in Uncategorized

How we came to St Paul

We moved to St Paul 8 years ago. I’ve been wanting to recount the story of how we ended up here. I need to be reminded of how God takes care of us.

Our first house in the Twin Cities was an upper duplex rental in South Minneapolis. It was home for 5 years. I slowly grew to love the city after living in a small town up until that point. My oldest announced as we drove onto the freeway into Minneapolis, “I was born to be a city girl!”

Driving on freeways was the biggest change. I found a job teaching piano lessons in St Paul and the short drive from Mpls to St Paul always left me with stiff shoulders and a sore back. I would clench the steering wheel and hold my breathe as I anticipated the dreaded lane changes. For a period of time, when we didn’t have a car and I learned to ride the metro transit, another experience that felt monumental at the time. The city began to feel like our new home. I loved meeting people with different cultures and beliefs than me. I loved trying foods from around the world, experiencing art through museums, theater, and the orchestra.

As we reached year 5 in Minneapolis, we began to run out of money. It was a confusing period in our marriage and job situation and it became clear that it was again time for a change . One thing I’ve realized is that I don’t usually gravitate toward change unless it is forced upon me. Hardships can be the catalyst for making necessary changes.

That whole decision to not renew our lease on the Minneapolis duplex is still a bit foggy to me. It was a very unsettling season that I never want to repeat. My three girls, ages 10, 8, and 1 and I, moved to Marshall, MN to live with my parents while Mark stayed in Minneapolis on a friend’s couch, working a new job in order to save enough money for us to rent a new place that fall.

That whole summer apart ended up being a blessing in disguise. Everyday, we would go on walks, to the pool, rummage sales, and Camden State Park. The extended time with my parents was just what my girls and I needed.

Our goal was to move to St Paul by September so that I could continue teaching piano and the kids could start school. August came and there was no housing in our price range. I spent my days feeling a rising sense of panic as I scoured the internet for affordable rentals for a family of 5.

Finally, near the end of August, I saw a 4 bedroom house for rent pop up on Craigslist. We looked at it and immediately felt a “Yes!” It was the only house I could find even close to what we were looking for. It felt like a miracle.

Looking back, I feel this house was hand-picked for us. The neighbors, the art house down the street, the theater experiences, the schools, and all the places that have become home.

First Easter in St Paul
And we added Ivy to our family
to make 6!

I know what uncertainty feels like. With Covid-19 looming over us, we don’t know what life will look like a month from now or 6 months from now. I’m glad I can look back on God’s faithfulness in our move to St Paul and all the little and big ways we have been taken care of since then. I have to keep believing the best. It’s the only way through.