The Long Drive Home from a TEEM Week

Soon I will put the last of my stuff in the car.  Sunrise comes later this much further north (at 7:57), so I'm not going to leave until 6:30 or 7.  Gone are the days when I would leave at 4 a.m.; driving that many hours in the dark is just too tiring.  Is this a sign of getting older or just a sign of being more cautious?  Part of it is wanting to linger in a lovely hotel room a bit longer, which is always balanced by knowing how much driving lies ahead and wanting to get that over with.

I've been in Indianapolis, taking the last required classes, another task done on the path to ordination in the Lutheran church (ELCA, the more progressive expression of the of Lutheranism in North America).  

We spent the first two days of the week studying Lutheran Liturgy, then a Wednesday workshop on Lutheran Polity, and we finished the week on Thursday and Friday studying Hebrew prophets, those prophets from the B.C.E. time period, the ones at the end of the Old Testament part of the Christian Bible.

I've studied those prophets before during an Old Testament class during my first year at Wesley Theological Seminary.  That class was asynchronous, and the material was not nearly as compelling as the last 2 days have been.  The history of the centuries before the Greek and Roman empires is much more clear to me now, and especially how we get from the time of David and Solomon to the Assyrian  and Babylonian exiles.

I came back to my hotel room on Thursday and made this Facebook post, which was just as true at the end of the day on Friday:  "Today and tomorrow, our TEEM group is doing a deep, scholarly dive into (B.C.E.) Hebrew prophets, a topic which seems very timely in ways I both did and did not expect."

I was impressed with various teaching techniques throughout the week.  During our Lutheran Liturgy class, Bishop Strickland had breaks where we sung, along with information about how we might use the songs in worship. Dr. Parker, our OT Prophets class instructor, had a variety of artifacts to show us or techniques (like using an imprinting device in clay) to show us how people wrote.  We worked in small groups for a break in lecturing, and that small group work will lead to papers we need to write.  For some of the prophets, we read the work out loud in a variety of ways, which made it more interesting to hear and understand.

I always learn a lot in classes that I take, both in subject matter and how to present the subject matter.  I go home with ideas for how to improve my own classrooms.

I've been with this group of classmates twice now, and my time with them is over, at least this time as a TEEM cohort.  It was a strange goodbye yesterday.  Any time of parting makes me think of all the other times of leaving, makes me melancholy and missing all the people who have passed through my life.

So maybe it's good to have a transition time of driving in the car, before hurling myself back into the rest of my life.  I do feel happy that I'm returning to regular life that is life giving, unlike pre-pandemic years when I would be returning to a toxic workplace and a boss bellowing about how I shouldn't leave ever again.  I know how lucky I am.

The Second Half of TEEM Week

Last night over dinner, my TEEM cohort exchanged notes over how tired we are.  This onground intensive is, indeed, intense.   We eat breakfast at the hotel, head over to the Synod office meeting space, and we're meeting from 8 until 4 or 5, depending on how long we took for lunch. Lunch is brought in, and we try to be back on task by 1 so that we can be done closer to 4:00.

Monday and Tuesday, we learned about Lutheran Liturgy, the way worship is structured. Yesterday was a 1 day workshop to teach us about Lutheran Polity, how the larger church operates--after a morning studying governing structure, we took a deep dive into church constitutions. We finish the week with Old Testament prophets.

I feel like I had more energy back in June, but let me remember that I only did the workshop and the last half of the week.  Plus, I wasn't in the middle of an onground teaching semester.

I've gotten good ideas for my sermon that I'll preach on Sunday, which happened in June too.  We've also had good worship this week, which has been nourishing.

I've been thinking about my past experiences with the onground intensive model, which has only been for the spiritual director certificate program.  I do wonder how the spiritual experiences compare with low residency MFA programs.

I love the idea of an intensive that blasts requirements out of the way in one week--but having said that, it's not my favorite way to learn.  I'm grateful to have had so many different kinds of educational opportunities throughout my life.  I also realize that my preferred way of learning:  onground, over 12-16 weeks, once or twice a week--it's not a way that can work for most people who are employed full-time, especially not older folks.

I'm also grateful that my current work life doesn't involve sitting at a desk all day, the way we've been doing this week or the way I did as an administrator.  Yes, we do try to move during breaks, but my step count at the end of 8 hour desk days is much lower than my regular teaching days.

I am grateful for so much as we head into the end of this week.  I am most grateful for all my jobs that allow me to be away so that I can be part of this educational experience and for my spouse, who is self-sufficient and holding down our 2 home fronts.

Relaxing Day, Intensive Day

Yesterday was the first day of the onground intensive for the TEEM program.  We'll spend the first two days of the week learning about Lutheran Liturgy, then a Wednesday workshop on Lutheran polity, and we'll finish with a class on Old Testament prophets.  We begin each day with worship/devotion time at 8, and we go until 4 or 5, depending on how much time we take to eat lunch that is brought in for us.

It's an intensive, not a relaxive, and the contrast with Sunday is huge.  Sunday was a restorative day.  I did a lot of sewing and a lot of reading, both for intensive week and for pleasure.  I had a video call with my old Florida quilting group and a phone call with my spouse.

I didn't do any church livestreaming, so it was somewhat strange yesterday to hear people refer to the Bible readings we would have been hearing on Sunday--not the readings, but the recognition that almost everyone else had gone to church before traveling.  It reminded me of how far I travel, and how rare it is to travel 8 hours by car these days.  Or maybe it's only rare in the circles in which I move.

I'm glad I had Sunday to recover from my travels on Saturday, but I'm not sure that yesterday's transition would have been any harder if I had gone with my original plan to drive from North Carolina to Indiana.  I'd have just gone from one kind of intensive to another.

I continue to be happy to have joined this program; I'm impressed with the talents of my cohort.  I feel a bit sad about how far away I live from all of them.  This is my last intensive week, and it's hard to imagine how our paths might cross in the future.

Of course, the past decade has taught me that much can change, so I'm keeping doors and options open.  Maybe we'll have yearly reunions.  Maybe we'll travel.  At the very least, I'm hoping we can continue to pray for each other.

Delights Planned for the Last Day of Summer and an A for Paul Class

In many ways, today is my last day of summer 2026.  A year ago, I'd have been going to CPE early and then driving to Williamsburg to help my parents recover from my mom's near death pneumonia hospitalization--I am so grateful that this summer's end is more mundane.

Our transition to the school year is a gentle one.  Tomorrow we have a very full day of teacher training and meetings.  On Friday and Monday, we have one meeting per day.  I'd prefer to have both on one day and the other day free for syllabus prep, but I'm fine with the schedule.  Having more time off is a game changer--in my younger days at community colleges, I'd have been irritable at being expected to do any of this at all.  

Of course, in my younger days, I spent much more time being irked.  Now I am older and wiser and more laid back and a better shepherd of my energy, meaning I ask more questions about situations and whether or not my irritability/anger is worth the energy and time.

On this last day of summer, I'll fill my day with delights:  a morning visit with a neighborhood friend doing creative work together in her studio and an afternoon with the LWR quilting group at the local Lutheran church.  I'll do some reading and some writing.  For one day, today I won't do any teaching work:  I turned in final grades for my online classes last night, and I still have time to create syllabi before classes start on Tuesday.

But I'm just remembering that I need to put an announcement in my onground class course shells that gives a welcome and says that more information is coming soon.  Since the shells open tomorrow, I'll do that cut and paste work today.

I'm happy that my work-for-pay still leaves me with time to see friends and do creative work of all types, along with writing and reading.  I'm grateful that my teaching life doesn't consume all my free time.  I know I say this a lot, but it's worth remembering and retreating.

It seems fitting that on one of the last evenings of summer, last night I got my grades for my summer TEEM class on Paul:  an A on each of the two papers, and an A for the class.  My teacher gave thoughtful commentary that made me feel seen and heard and understood.

I mention my reaction because last night I also got my supervisor feedback for the summer online class that I taught for SMC.  Overall, it was positive, although there is room for improvement:  more personalized feedback and more depth of feedback.  My first thought was that using names of students in grading feedback (a suggestion) would take too much time.  But it really won't take that much more time and maybe it would help students stay engaged.

I'm grateful for my return to school in late middle life for many reasons, but it's been revelatory to remember what it's like to be a student.  I used to think that A level papers don't really need much instructor feedback, but as an A student, I would feel cheated if my papers got the kinds of A level feedback that I give as a teacher.  Maybe that's too strong; I'm remembering all the times I got minimal feedback on A level papers and didn't feel cheated.  But every time I get more involved feedback, I'm grateful.  And A level students are more likely to have the time and mental space to care in a way that isn't possible for students who can't care as much because their lives are falling apart.

A Week Ago, Getting Ready for TEEM

A week ago, I was thinking about how I might be feeling in one week, when I was back from travel, back from my first time at a TEEM intensive.  I am feeling the way I hoped I would be feeling.  I am feeling relieved and hopeful--and not too exhausted.

A week ago, I was getting ready to pack.  One of the benefits of driving is that I can overpack.  I ended up with three extra tops and sweaters/overshirts, which was fine with me.  I decided not to bring long pants or skirts; I assumed we'd be in a casual mode, and happily, I was right.  The tops I brought were dressier, so if I had gambled wrong in either direction, I wouldn't have felt too out of place.  Including me, we had 6 females, and none of us wore dresses or skirts; only 3 of us wore shorts, and I was the only one who wore long shorts each day.

Why do these sartorial choices still seem so important?  Because they are, in so many ways.  Why did I spend so much time planning?  Because I was going to be far away from home, and I have the type of body where I can't just go to Target and find clothes that will fit me.

I felt comfortable in my own skin, and that doesn't always happen for me, even at this relatively late age of almost 61 years old.  We were a wide variety of people from a wide variety of backgrounds--that also helped.  It was so different from some of my seminary classes, especially the in person classes that happened during the day, where I was the oldest student and often the only one who had already had a career.

I was the only one with a PhD, but I'm O.K. with that--it's always been my situation in many different phases and parts of my life.  I did try to be conscious of how much I was talking--I wanted to give everyone a chance.  I think I was successful.  Late in the day, one of my fellow students said, "I'm really glad you were part of this week.  You've added a lot to the class discussion."

I was especially grateful for that comment, because earlier in the day, after a discussion of procreative sex (the only kind of male-female sex valued by the ancient world) and the texts that have been read as anti-gay, I said, "Paul thought that we'd all be better off celibate.  I'm not taking relationship advice from any of these people."

It was a good week, and I'm glad I went.  It puts me that much closer to ordination.  But it also gave me new experiences and new friends and some new information about Paul (see this blog post).  As I age, I want to keep doing things that move me out of my comfort zone--nothing crazy, like sky diving, but experiences that keep my brain working in new ways.

Harrowing Drive Home

I feel lucky to be here, writing at the desk that came to me from my grandparents, safe in my mountain home.  It was a harrowing drive home yesterday.

At first it was lovely.  I put gas in the car and was on the road by 7 a.m., which was 45 minutes later than I wanted, but finding a luggage cart and checking out of the hotel took more time than I anticipated.  Still, it's summer, plenty of daylight, so I wasn't too worried (I try to avoid driving in the mountains in the darkest part of the night).  I thought I might even stop along the way, maybe have lunch in Berea, Kentucky, see if I could discover some places where I might support local artisans.

I was in that part of Kentucky by lunch time, but I was in the beginnings of the torrential rain that would leave much of Kentucky flooded.  My phone sounded an emergency alert:  flash flood warning until 1 p.m., do not drive, seek shelter.  The last time my phone alerted me about a flash flood warning, I was driving home from Spartanburg the evening before Hurricane Helene.  I said to myself,  "Flood?  I'm in the mountains!  I'm on an interstate!"  Twenty-four hours later, that part of the interstate was indeed under water.

Yesterday I decided that the safest option was to keep driving.  Mind you, it didn't feel safe:  so much water both on the interstate and falling from the sky, such reduced visibility.  But I knew that if I left the interstate, I might drive to some place less safe.  So I kept going at 45 mph on I 75, thankful that everyone else was driving slowly too.  And I did drive out of the weather.  At my next gas/rest stop, I checked the radar to make sure there weren't additional weather surprises ahead.

Even though I checked, I knew I was traveling through a very unstable weather pattern so I kept going.  As I got close to the Virginia/Tennessee line, the phone wanted to take me on US 70, so I pulled over, just to check before I proceeded.  I wanted to make sure the phone wasn't taking me back to I 40, which I wanted to avoid, if the weather turned bad.  I knew that US 70 would be twisty, but I decided it would get me home faster than other routes.

It was indeed twisty.  A storm had already been through; at one point, I had to stop, wait for oncoming traffic to clear, and then drive around a downed tree.

I pulled into the driveway just before 4, almost weeping in gratitude.  We were expecting heavy weather in Arden, so we unloaded the car, watched a bit of TV, and collapsed into bed.  I made this Facebook post late in the day, and it seems as good a way to end as any other:

"I am safe at home in Arden, having taken many scenic routes on my way back from Indianapolis. Whenever I feel fretful about the state of the nation or our place in the world (either me individually or some collective we), I should take a drive through some part of the Appalachian mountain range to get some perspective."

Kristin in Indianapolis, Paul in Spain

In another hour or so, I'll put the last of my stuff in the car and head back to the mountains of North Carolina.  I've been in Indianapolis, taking a class on Paul, another task done on the path to ordination in the Lutheran church (ELCA, the more progressive expression of Lutheranism in North America).  

It has been a great class, full of deep dives into Greek words and church history and Paul's theology, which can be summarized as Proclaim Christ Crucified.  We even had a fun digression into what we would proclaim--I find it problematic to proclaim Christ Crucified.  Christ incarnate, yes.  Christ risen from the dead, yes.  But crucified?  That's the most important thing?

The cross means something very different for Paul than it does for me.  The cross as a symbol/shortcut does something very different for Paul.  I get that. 

We talked about not knowing how Paul died, not for sure.  Church custom/tradition posits that it's likely that he died in Rome, executed by Emperor Nero.  But it's also possible that he left Rome and continued onward to Spain.

A random thought floated through my brain on Thursday:  that would make a good poem, Paul in Spain, late in life.  By yesterday morning, I decided to jot down some lines, and voila!  A poem emerged, mostly formed.

Here's how it begins:

Paul slices citrus for sangria, 

oranges and lemons plucked

from trees in the lingering light

of a late October evening.

Who would have dreamed or demanded

such a soft landing?

This morning I thought, oh dead, when does citrus ripen in Spain?  I chose "late October evening" because Paul is in the late autumn of his life.  Happily, a quick search this morning shows the detail can work--and even had I discovered that it didn't, I'd have probably kept it.

The poem ends this way:

Safe for now, he pours the sangria

and waits for the sun to set.

I do worry that the poem is cliched, and I also worry that it won't be interesting to non-Christian readers.  But we all age, and this poem looks at aging.  By using Paul as the vehicle, maybe it does say something new.

I'll put it away and look at it again later this week.  But I am happy to have created a poem the way I once did:  an idea comes and within 24 hours, I'm attempting a poem and seeing it to completion.  Hurrah!

Rethinking Paul

Yesterday was our first TEEM class on Paul.  It was riveting.  I'm still not much interested in preaching using Paul's letters, but because Paul has been so influential and so misused, it's good to find out what's really there.

The most interesting way of thinking about Paul that was new to me is to see him as a Jew framed by apocalyptic thinking, the apocalypse being when God comes to earth to judge the living and the dead, an event which will begin with the dead rising up from their graves as they come back to life to be judged.

So when Paul meets Jesus on the Damascus Road, a man who has been dead brought back to life and speaking to him, he assumes that judgment day is under way.  Being a good Pharisee, he would assume that Jews will be O.K. on Judgment Day--as people of the Covenant, God has chosen them.  But Gentiles are in danger.  Thus, off he goes to tell them how to be saved.

I asked the question that some of you might be asking.  Did Paul see a human Jesus on the Damascus Road?  I have always thought of that event as the heavens splitting open and the voice of Jesus speaking to him, not as an encounter with Jesus in his human body.  My professor talked about the different depictions of that event, including recountings of that event that we find in Acts and the letters of Paul.  In some of them, the encounter does sound disembodied, the voice from the heavens.  In others, we could interpret it as an encounter between Paul and a human-appearing Jesus. 

I still maintain my long-standing approach to Paul.  He wrote letters to specific churches/communities with specific problems.  Taking those letters and applying them to twenty-first century life makes very little sense--unless we're experiencing similar problems.  We had an interesting session looking at 1 Corinthians, the passage where Paul excoriates the Church for eating the good food before the whole community arrives and connecting this behavior with Communion.  How do our own Communion practices exclude or include in similar ways?

I still can't see myself preaching on Paul or even having the kind of Bible study that would interest most people.  But I'm very glad to have had this educational opportunity.

A Short TEEM Report

This morning has less blogging time, but I have finished my movie review, the first assignment for my TEEM class on Pauline letters.  I have done the practice quizzes one more time--I've been doing them over and over in the hopes that I'll do well on the quiz that will begin today's class.  

We have another quiz tomorrow, and I haven't done any practice for that one.  So tomorrow may be a light blogging day too, as I practice and practice.  I have not taken a quiz for course credit since undergraduate school.  Of course, I've taken quiz after quiz as part of HR training--those quizzes that you can take over and over again so that you can continue to be employed.

Each quiz counts for 10% of the course grade.  My inner good girl wants to make an A.  My pragmatic older self knows that whatever grade I make will be fine.  I'm not even sure if TEEM classes show up on a transcript.

And then, part of me wonders why I care about my official record.  Am I going to do more graduate work?  Maybe--and that's why I care.

Yesterday's TEEM training was a workshop on stewardship.  When I first heard about the workshop, I felt a bit of despair.  I've already had so much stewardship training.  But it was a great workshop.  We talked about a much broader vision of stewardship:  what do we value?  How do we protect what we value?  It's far more than money, budgets, and a finance team. 

I've been part of small churches, with attendance below 50 members, so these are not concepts that are new to me.  In a very small church, one can't assume that others will pick up the slack, unlike in a church that has over 100 members in the pews on Sunday.

Our workshop leader, Tim Brown, was both compelling and entertaining.  We had worship in the middle of the day, followed by Indian food.  It was good to have that long break.

Let me bring this writing to a close so that I can get some breakfast before the day begins.  Onward!

TEEM Work in Indianapolis

For a woman with a reduced summer schedule, my blogging gets off schedule more than I would have expected--I did not plan not to write for the past 2 days.  On Monday, I did some intense grading and got grades turned in for the online class that ended this week.  Yesterday, I wrote the rough draft of a paper for the class on Paul's letters that I'm taking this week.

Then I hit the road, heading out to Indianapolis.  I am doing part of a week-long intensive as part of the TEEM program that meets there 3 times a year, staying in the Drury hotel and doing classes at the office of the Indiana-Kentucky Synod.  It's part of my ongoing journey to be ordained in the ELCA.  So far, the pre-intensive materials are inspiring, and I have hopes as I shift to a different approach towards ordination.  A side benefit will be learning more about how the TEEM program works.

The trip to Indianapolis takes longer than it did before Hurricane Helene:  part of I 40 is still 2 lanes, one in each direction, for about 20 miles.  There's also a long stretch of I 74 which is under construction and 2 lanes.  Happily traffic kept moving.

Most of the roads I traveled yesterday were surprisingly empty, and in the morning, that made the construction zone across the mountain into Tennessee easier.  I've never liked that stretch of I 40, even before part of it slid down the mountain in the storm.  Shortly after that passage, my phone directed me to take an older highway up to Kentucky, a route which took me through the Cumberland Gap.  The mountains were gorgeous and the roads not too winding or steep.  Even the Cumberland Gap tunnel wasn't as claustrophobic as I feared it might be.

The weather was overcast when I started, and happily, the worst of the rain had moved east.  I still drove through a bit of rain here and there.  I had a front seat with food, baby carrots and 2 kinds of homemade bread, so I didn't need to stop for food.  It does feel weird to be so close to family and old friends who moved and not feel like I have time to stop.

I left my phone on for the whole trip so that it could dictate directions to me; I didn't plug it into my phone's USB port until halfway through the trip.  My car's USB port doesn't charge very well, but it kept the phone from losing charge quite as quickly.  Still, by the end of the trip, I was worried that my phone would die before I got to the hotel, and unlike other trips, I had no idea where I was going, in terms of what exits to take and which roads I needed to find.  Happily I was able to find my way before the phone died.

I got checked into the hotel with no problems, and unloaded the car easily.  I mention the ease of it all because I don't travel light, so I'm always grateful for available luggage carts, especially in a hotel with 9 floors.  My 7th floor room is spacious, bright, and clean, and so far, it's been quiet--all qualities which make me profoundly grateful.

I've met some of my TEEM cohort last night.  The hotel offers a 5:30 Kickback each night, with 3 drinks per adult and a light dinner buffet.  Last night, the buffet included hot dogs, nacho chips and fixings, flour tortillas and fixings (including "fajita chicken"), and a small salad bar, with lettuce, grated cheese, and cherry tomatoes.  The soup was roasted red pepper tomato--delicious.  To think, I had been expecting some cheese and crackers and some Chex mix.

I brought my book on Paul with me to dinner.  I figured if I didn't find the TEEM group, I'd have something to read.  But I did find the director, whom I had met on a Zoom call last week, so I knew what he looked like.  I had dinner with the cohort members who were there, and as I expected, we have a lot in common:  we're serving churches in a variety of contexts, but there's so much more to us than that.  

They've had 2 days together, but they were warm and welcoming, and we lingered over dinner.  Delightful!  I was not awake much later, since it had been a long day.

We have some long days ahead, so let me bring this writing to a close.  Today we have a workshop on stewardship, which is great because I can use another day to catch up on my reading.  I joined the class late, just last week, so I am a bit behind.

TEEM Work and Other Anxieties

It has been a strange week in terms of home renovations.  We're at a point where it makes sense to wait until the work of next week is done.  Hopefully by this time next week, we'll have an HVAC system installed and the house rewired.  Then we'll do the painting and the hardwood floor restoration.

It feels weird knowing how much work needs to be done, but not doing it.  Of course, I have plenty of other work to be doing, primarily grading and encouraging students.

In a way, it has been a good week to be pulling back on fixer-upper tasks.  I've gotten information about the next part of my path to ordination.  I will take three classes through the TEEM program, and the first class is next week.

The TEEM program has 3 onground intensives a year where participants gather in Indianapolis and take 2 classes, one on Monday-Tuesday and one on Thursday-Friday, along with a workshop on Wednesday.  I will be taking the Thursday-Friday class on Paul's letters next week.  I'm happy to be able to patch up some holes in my knowledge; I had wanted to take a seminary class on Paul, but it never worked out.

I needed this week to order books and get started on the reading.  I had missed the deadline to get the discounted hotel price, but happily, when I called, I was able to get that price. 

It's been an up and down week in terms of anxiety.  When I'm at the house in Spartanburg, I feel that we made a good decision.  When I'm not there, there's a bit more self-doubt rattling in my brain.  I've never driven to Indianapolis from here, so I feel a bit of anxiety in terms of a car trip, while reminding myself that I have relatives along the way who could help me if need be.  I'm headed there by myself, because my spouse needs to be here to oversee the HVAC installation and rewiring.  I'm looking forward to being away, but also a bit anxious at the thought of all the new people I'll meet.  I feel a bit of anxiety at the thought of all the money we're spending on home repair--if it goes well, I'll be glad we spent the money. 

I have some course work to do besides showing up for class next week.  There's reading to do, and a movie about Paul to watch, which I've done, and a review of the movie to write, which I haven't, but will soon.

But it's nice to feel I have time to do that work.  The last time I was getting ready to go to an onground intensive, it was October of 2024, and we were still dealing with Hurricane Helene aftermaths.  I'm sure there's some residual anxiety that my body is dredging up.

Hopefully, in a week or two, I'll be able to look back on this anxiety and smile because all the moving parts came together so well.