It's been one year since I graduated from seminary. Almost three years since I left my old life for something new. Almost one year since I began a career in vocational ministry. Last night, I had the Christian Education Team over for dinner at my house. I cooked for them, hoping it would make them feel loved and appreciated for journeying with me for the last year. It's caused me to stop and reflect on much, to help me understand more of my story and how it's affected who I am right now.

I also received an "Happy Birthday" email from the seminary last week, wishing me well, and inviting me to submit book reviews. My first thought was, "I'm a woman... is this a automatically generated email and they don't realize I'm a woman?" Because I had some doubts that the seminary would allow something like that to be written by me and published by them. More cause for reflection.

My first semester of seminary was horrible.

No really. Truly horrible.

My classes were easy and boring, I was adjusting to an entirely different life (not ONE thing about my life was the same, expect the clothes I was wearing and the car I was driving). I had to live in this huge house with 5 other girls. The day I moved in not one single housemate was there to greet me. Just the Women's Resident Director was there with her kids to hand me a key. I didn't even get an information packet like the rest of the new people did - with maps of St. Louis and information about the nearest grocery stores and sites to see. My first night in the house the two girls in the house went downstairs to drink wine and watch a movie, and didn't invite me to join them. Though it was August in the southern mid-west, it felt quite chilly. It wasn't exactly a warm welcome into my new life. Little did I know it would forecast the next several months.

I thought it would get better as I adjusted and met new people. It didn't. I had one roommate who was really dirty and kinda rude. Another one who was loud, spoiled, and who thought I wasn't good enough to be her friend or at the seminary because I wasn't part of the PCA (the denomination the seminary is affiliated with). In November I was talking with a friend from college, telling him all about this and he said, "What are you going to do? Are you going to transfer?" It seemed silly; I was already one semester in and I was only going to be there for two years total... just enough to go full-time and get the degree. I had a hard enough finding a seminary that had the degree I wanted with the financial aid I needed. But I wanted to leave. I really, really did. I was sick of the elitist, snobby 23 yr. old kids who hadn't lived life and had never been anywhere interesting or had any life experiences making me feel like I wasn't fit to be there. in a word, I was DONE.

(And, no, not everyone was like this. But a good portion of them were, and they were the ones who seemed to dislike me and my crazy way of asking thoughtful questions rather than accepting the status quo. And I must point out that never once did I feel this way because of a professors. The men and one woman I studied under were tremendously gracious, thoughtful and wonderful people who genuinely wanted me to do well and further kingdom work. My debrief here is to help me heal over how the students there made me feel. That is separate from the education I received in the classroom - which was, in a word, excellent. That said, I also think it's been long enough that I can be a bit more objective about the whole experience... see the view from 10,000 feet on the balcony rather than the view from the dance floor.)

So I retreated. I threw myself into getting involved at my church. I started by volunteering on Sundays to help the hospitality crew. I took the new membership class and then joined the church. Then I joined a small group. Word got around that I was a worship leader before coming there, so I was asked to lead worship several times. All of this on top of my intern work teaching, leading a women's small group, giving devotions, and even doing website work. I found a wonderful community at a time when I needed it. I found solace in those people - and my job as an intern there. The church had 1800 members, but it felt like home to me.

I also found solace in books.

Seminary is all about reading and I read thousands and thousands of pages while I was there. I was reading all the time, and quickly discovered the house was not a good place to do. When I tried, my roommate who didn't think I was good enough to be there would often study in the same room as me (the dining room or living room usually). Then she would lead me into a debate about reformed beliefs, with her boyfriend in tow to back her up. (Don't get me wrong... I'm reformed. But I also question things. She didn't and wasn't taught to. To her, that made me some kind of enemy.) So I discovered Kaldi's, Starbucks, Panera Bread, and the St. Louis County library. These were good places to study and I had some truly significant moments there.  

So my memories of seminary are only good because of church, because of the few classes that challenged me, and about four people on campus I grew close to... but they had to pursue me quite a bit. I got burned and didn't want to get too close to the flame.

I spend far too much time on facebook, and there is much of it that feeds the low self-esteem that occurred because of what happened to me in seminary. The few people from seminary that I am friends with on facebook will post photos and make comments and status updates about campus life there. These things make me feel horrible all over again. Even though I am 1500 miles away from that place I still feel the rejection I experienced while there.

Yet I am loved and accepted by my Lord and Savior. I am loved and accepted by many friends and family.

Why isn't it enough? 

I think it's because I don't know my Lord and Savior intimately enough.

Think about it - there are people in your life whose love and acceptance you don't doubt. You know that person loves you without pause and rarely worry about where you stand with them. You feel secure in their love and acceptance of you.

While I don't feel insecure with Christ, I think that if I knew him more intimately I would more fully understand his love and acceptance of me, thereby understanding that his love and acceptance is the only one that matters. But here I find myself turning this into a moralistic post. So much of what I write about and think about when it comes to my walk with Christ is what I need to be doing that's different from the bad job I'm already doing navigating life with him.

Instead I think it may be wise for me to reflect on the person of God... 

perhaps that will lead me to where I need to go.