Hinge

 What a week it has been!  In future years, I might see this week as one of those hinge moments, the time when one part of life opens from another part of life, the one where I look back and say, "That's the week that led directly to where I am today."

Just a week ago, I was exploring Wesley Seminary's Arts and Theology program.  I was feeling thrilled, in part because of the week that had come before.  I had spent the last week of January looking at programs at other seminaries and feeling such a sense of despair.  I had just the opposite reaction to the program at Wesley:  I wanted to pack my bags and get started right away.

I wrote some blog posts, and early in the week, an Admissions rep from Wesley reached out to me.  We exchanged e-mails, and she put me in touch with the person who is in charge of the center for Theology and the Arts and in charge of the specialization track.  

By Monday, I decided it was time to reach out to the woman at Synod who is in charge of candidacy (candidacy is the process by which both the person and the Church determine what God is up to--and to be bluntly honest, to make sure that it's a good idea to have a person go to seminary and become a pastor).  By Thursday, I had a variety of candidacy documents to explore.  

By the end of the day on Friday, I had submitted the application for candidacy to the national church.  I've still got lots of documents to submit to the Synod office, but I've taken the first step.  I clicked that submit button at the end of the 7 screens of information/submission that make up the application online.  

Now to write the paper that explores my spiritual life.  That part won't be as hard for me as it might be for some.  In some ways, I write parts of that paper each and every week.  

I'll also need to do some other activities:  get a psychiatric evaluation, get 2 letters of recommendation, have an initial meeting with a member of the Synod candidacy committee.  But today it feels more doable than when I was first sifting through the materials on Thursday.

It's also been a week where I let people know what I'm thinking about:  friends and family, my pastor, my spiritual director, my small group that's part of the spiritual director certificate program.  Not a one has responded by asking if I'm sure, asking if I've lost my mind, asking if I've thought this through.  No one has told me that I'm crazy.  No one has suggested that I can't do it.

On the contrary, most people are happy for me and overwhelmingly supportive.  That, too, seems like a sign to me.

Here's one of my favorite responses (from a grad school friend):  "I think you're right to pay attention to the flashing signs that are clearly trying to catch your eye. Mepkin Abby, a seminary in a city where you have family, a pandemic that's altered the way we approach course work, and a Lutheran seminary right here in Columbia plus my guest room in case you need additional classes at the end! It's been your heart's yearning for decades now. The universe is saying go forth. Now is your time."

And here's a close runner up, from my atheist friend:  "even IF you sounded crazy, Kristin - the most important sound I hear is happiness. And crazy happiness is beautiful right now. NOT THAT I AM SAYING YOU ARE CRAZY!!!! of course you are - taking on this much work is insane. but if insane work makes you happy ... go for it."

I am going for it.