Church: Found

In the past when I lived in a place other than 'home' people always told me that it was important to find a church community of which to be a part, but I don't think I really believed them. Not that I didn't go to church. I went to some pretty spectacular churches, actually...

• Exhibit A: Spring Creek Community Church
  When I was an apprentice at Miracle Mountain Ranch I attended the community church at the bottom of the mountain not because I had tried other churches and really liked this one (in fact, I don't think I visited any other churches), but because I felt least awkward about riding to church with the people who went to Spring Creek. What can I say? I was 17 and self-conscious. Spring Creek was a great place for me, though - very small, so everyone knew - and cared about - everyone else, their prayer time didn't come from a typed list but from concerns everyone shared right there in church, and I was able to use my musical talent in worship for the first time.
  
• Exhibit B: Ecclesia Hollywood
  Again, I didn't really look for a church in LA. A few of my instructors went to Ecclesia and so my roommates and I tried it out, and where my roommates went, I followed. Still insecure, you know. What I love(d) about Ecclesia is that 1) they rented space that would otherwise be empty, because being in a particular community was more important than having a certain style of building, 2) the congregation had a particular vision for creativity and creative people and focused its efforts on them, and 3) the preaching was candid and spoke to the church specifically, rather than Christians generally. I still listen to the Ecclesia podcast and will do my darnedest to visit them every time I'm in the LA area.
  
• Exhibit C: The SOMA Gathering
  I moved to Beaver Falls as a grad student and wanted to assert my independence (particularly necessary, in my mind, because I still saw my parents very frequently). SOMA was initially appealing because people I knew went there and it was close enough to walk. Furthermore, I had started to care about the community - about belonging somewhere and sharing the burdens (and joys) of the people who lived near me. For the first time I didn't go to church with someone (although I knew people who also attended there) and I was constantly encouraged to do something with the message. 

There are two common themes in my 'independent' church experiences: 1) they were all really great churches, and 2) I 'found' them because 'people I knew went there,' aka they were convenient. What I learned through those experiences was that having a church community is REALLY important, but also that if I was going to commit myself to a church, this time I didn't want it to be accidental; I wanted to find a place with a community and ministries in which I, personally, could invest.

Church 'shopping' was an ironically profitable experience. I visited Life Bridge on their 'free donuts' day, I was given a John Piper book along with my free coffee drink and pastry at Broadway Christian Church, and was invited to Thanksgiving dinner at Wallen Baptist (along with the rest of the congregation). They were all great places, and I appreciated the music and the preaching, but none of them felt quite right. So I did a Google map search to find something really close to campus and found "Anchor Community Church." I visited once, then forced myself to try a few other places, but at Christmas I found myself wondering how soon I could go back.

I've been going to Anchor for almost three months now and I like it a lot. It's not what I envisioned, exactly, because the congregation is generally older and younger than me, but it feels right. The people I meet are friendly, there are opportunities for ministry and growth (not get-involved-as-an-underling opportunities, but we-need-more-people-for-this-to-work opportunities), and every sermon gives me something to think and pray and journal about; every sermon challenges me personally, but also reminds me that I am part of both the local community and Church universal.

There you are. I'm glad that I took my time that I didn't stick with my modus operandi and just tag along with the first person who invited me to their church (especially for Amy's sake!). At Anchor I have the opportunity to work with youth group, I can get involved in the local community, and I find encouragement and comfort each week.

We have this hope as an anchor for the soul, firm and secure. It enters the inner sanctuary behind the curtain, where our forerunner, Jesus, has entered on our behalf. He has become a high priest forever, in the order of Melchizedek. - Hebrews 6:19 - 

LtD: Supporting Academics in Residence Life

Dear Debbie,

I've been wanting to write about this for some time because academics are very important to me and to the university, and because I fear that with every year academics becomes less important to the mid-adolescents who go off to college to be 'educated.' I remember having a few conversations with the other three musketeers (as I fondly think of my GA co-workers) about how frustrating it is to have a field called student development that claims to have so much influence over the direction students' development takes and yet often sees its goals as separate from or - dramatically put - in opposition to the goals of faculty.

I may or may not have silently vowed never to become one of 'those people.' I may or may not now be one of those people, and I am unhappily able to see the difficulty of their position.

From my newly enlightened position as one of those people, I am beginning to realize how much everything is different when you step into a job. Last time I mentioned that I've been experiencing 'growing pains' as a RD, because my world and scope of influence (I'm being generous with the term) keep growing. The old ways I had of working with students just aren't sufficient to the demands I have on my time and the professional standards I want to maintain. In no area of my life is this so apparent as my desire to support academics. When I was driving back to Fort Wayne after Christmas I recorded a voice memo that went something like this:

Once upon a time, when I was a student, I felt like I could help other students through sheer force of will. You know, I would proof read their papers and discuss the changes with them, encourage them daily about specific classes. As a professional I can't really do that; I can't do things for them in that way because there's just so many of them.

I probably would have continued in that way if I had stayed at Geneva. I go back and forth with wishing that I had been able to stay at an institution where I not only understood the academic requirements but knew the faculty in and out of the classroom so that I could give students honest opinions and advice. Deep down, though, I can see that the 'force of will' approach is a bit immature. The question is, what do I do now? How do I support the academic mission of the university without letting that overshadow the rest of the responsibilities in my job description?

Here are a few of the things I've come up with:

1. Support faculty through my conversations with students. It's amazing how easy it is to build rapport with residents if you listen to them complain about their professors. While I believe it may be helpful to express frustration over classes, I believe that it is my responsibility to help them find a more balanced outlook on their professors because if they have such a negative view they're not being particularly teachable. (I'm almost certain that some development theory would support this, I just forget which?)
2. Show an interest in residents' classes. I have a lot of student-athletes in my hall, and it's very easy (also very FUN) to attend the various sporting events to show my support. What I don't do nearly as easily or well (so far) is find out about lecture opportunities that I can advertise or learn about some of the more popular classes and start conversations about what they're actually learning instead of waiting for them to volunteer that information.

That's what I've thought of so far, but I would love more input, if you* have any ideas. I'm still learning about residence life so I don't want to get overloaded with 'other' things, but if my work in student affairs doesn't ultimately support education in the classroom as well as learning outside of the classroom, I think I will have failed in my endeavor.

Cheers,

Ceci

*although these are 'Letters to Debbie,' they are also blog posts and as such I encourage any reader to join the conversation. PLEASE. :)

LtD: Why I don't write (besides that I'm a lazy punk)

Dear Debbie,

Far be it from me to complain about a Terry class, but I often wondered why "College Students in America" was the first class we took in Higher Ed. It seemed very early in the program to be playing around with survey research, to be reading theory, and to be expected to do presentations (well, maybe that was just me). I think most of my cohort will agree that as important as we now realize Perry and Chickering are to our careers, we really didn't get it at the time. Perhaps it was a warning that in higher education, as in life, you have to be on your toes and recognize what is going to be important before it passes you by and you lose the textbook.

Part of the reason I haven't written in the last few months is because things keep happening that I really want to write about in the moment, but when after some thought I conclude that I shouldn't. On the one hand, confidentiality is something I've never struggled with before, but this is the first time I've had to be confidential about things that are, at their heart, really good stories. I don't want to risk breaking that confidentiality, and so the world is robbed of some pretty hilarious stories. On the other hand, I'm afraid that a lot of what I have to share would sound an awful lot like complaining (or would, actually, be complaining).

I've been in this job for about four and a half months, and I really enjoy it. I do. I've had some crazy things happen, of course, I've lost a lot of sleep and had a lot of conversations that I never thought I would be having. Deep down I feel blessed - I truly do. I am a young professional who wears jeans and a t-shirt to work. Going to college sporting events is part of my job. I interact directly with college students every day. I earn a real paycheck that covers my student loans, car payments, insurance, the occasional coffee drink, and a trip to Half Price Books each month. What more could I ask for?

I suppose a better way to think of it is to call my struggles and complaints "growing pains." As a TA and then a graduate assistant, I thought my world was pretty big. After all, I was having interesting, educated conversations with people about really important things like student development and biblical interpretation, I was encouraging critical thinking in a college classroom, and I was mentoring students. I felt like I was prepared for anything higher ed could throw at me. The last few months, however, have taught me that I did have a pretty big world - in theory. Every step I take seems to make the horizons of what is possible - and even probable - expand exponentially. I am realizing that as prepared and effective as I was (or thought I was) as a graduate assistant, I have a lot to learn every day about what it takes to be an effective RD.

I'm still wrapping my head around the fact that this is a permanent job, that I have really moved away from Pittsburgh and Geneva and my family, and your regular company. I think it's denial that keeps me from writing or calling more often - I keep expecting to walk onto campus, settle into my chair in the office, and observe the goings-on. It's probably never going to be like that again, is it?

I hope you're doing well, and I'm sorry if I rambled... although why that would be a surprise I'm sure I don't know :) Remember to celebrate Pi Day tomorrow!

Cheers,
Ceci