Learning How to Walk

See, I am doing a new thing! Now it springs up; Do you not perceive it? I am making a way in the wilderness and streams in the wasteland.

Isaiah 43:19 (NIV)

It’s been a long year since I’ve written here. Mostly because I’ve been in a season of massive transition, while simultaneously being in a season of deep pain, confusion, and discomfort about the future. Today however, is a new day, and that season has seemed to set sail. For that I am eternally grateful. So please, enjoy this early reflection on what this past year has taught me.

In the past 12 months my son has gone from an avid crawler to a talented walker and often runner. When he first learned to walk, it was my great joy to walk along side of him, with his little hands wrapped tightly around my index finger. It always takes a bit longer to get where we are going (little legs and all) but there was a great sense of pride in both of us as he gained some personal agency and autonomy. For him it was “look what I can do!” For me it was “I can’t believe I made this person!”

One of his favorite things to do is to walk through the little garden at the church where he goes to preschool. This is not a simple stroll. It is a process that takes time. He’s got to point out every ball shaped object, spin every single spinner, and generally be redirected away from creating chaos amongst the little flowers beds that each preschool class has spent time cultivating.

What I found myself doing was carrying him out of his classroom and to the car, in order to save time and avoid having to lead him away from the undying temptation to play Godzilla in the garden. It’s just more pleasant to avoid the tender teaching moment, which often for a toddler is a full on public melt down.

But even outside of the garden adventure, I always find myself wanting to carry him or put him in a stroller in order to get things done more quickly… at my pace rather than at his pace.

When the Israelites found themselves in Exile in the land of Babylon they repeatedly wondered when God was going to rescue them. There was certainly a promise that God would, so the question really became “why is it taking so long?” They were like us often, wanting things in our own timing and at our own pace. God just doesn’t operate that way.

So God spoke through the prophet Isaiah, saying “I’m doing a new thing. Look around. I am making a way.” The reality for Israel was that the way was not going to come all at once. The way was going to come slowly and the way was going to include growing pains.

A Year of Limbo

At the clergy session of the 2022 Florida Annual Conference 16 of us were denied being given a new clergy status that we had earned and been approved for by the Board of Ordained Ministry. We required a 75% majority vote of the body of all Ordained Clergy in the conference and we only received 72%. This happened because 3 of our colleagues in the class identify as members of the LGBTQ community.

I am unashamedly inclusive, and believe that God can and does call persons of all identities and communities to lead God’s people. And honestly I’m not interested in arguing that fact with anyone anymore. The United Methodist Church has grown tired of arguing about it, and we are in a year of disaffiliation over that fact. And it is painful.

But hear the good news. At the 2023 Clergy session of the Florida Annual conference, our class — minus one sweet friend who decided to withdraw and be harmed no more — was approved for our new clergy status. By a sweeping vote of 92% we were affirmed in our collective and individual call to create disciples for the transformation of the world and to shape the future of our beloved church.

As I ascended two ramps with my son’s hand wrapped around my finger the following morning, I had a moment where God said to me “see, you’re learning how to walk.” I don’t ascribe to a theological belief that God did this mess to us. But I do ascribe to a deep belief that God uses messy, broken, hurtful situations for the good of those who love God. God was teaching me how to walk, both with my son and with those whom I was blessed to experience this mess with.

When this happened we initially all sought a quick resolution. I for one wanted our Bishop to just ignore the clergy session and commission us anyway. Other conferences offered to commission us, and the offer was tempting. It was all about me getting what I wanted when I wanted it. But that wasn’t the answer.

Beloved Community

Instead of just getting a resolution quickly, we waited. For an entire year. And in the waiting we served churches and we served extension ministries and we served the people of God. We served, even though the establishment that we served on behalf of had failed us. Certainly we didn’t hold the whole institution at fault, but in the midst of the feelings of betrayal and pain it’s hard to stay rational and objective. We needed to lament.

Through the kindness, compassion, and responsibility of those who were tasked with our development we were offered a space to lament. We were offered care. We were offered the love of Christ. We were offered a bit of agency. And through that, community was built. My life is fundamentally different because I had to sit and feel and trudge through this mess with the people that I was gracefully granted the honor of doing life with this year.

I was given the opportunity to know my colleagues. I was given the opportunity to allow them to become my friends. Some of them have become my family.

All of this is because I was given the opportunity to learn how to walk. As I think about the extra time it takes to allow my little man to explore the world and choose each day whether or not he is going to be a gentle gardener or Godzilla, I’m given the opportunity to slow down and look around. I’m given the opportunity to perceive it: God is doing a new thing.

God is doing a new thing in our local churches and in our world. God is doing a new thing in the lives of 15 people who were called by God to lead God’s church in becoming a place of grace and love for all of God’s people. And because of this last year, we are better equipped to do that work. I have learned from my siblings in a way that would not have happened if we got what we wanted when we wanted it. I have come to know them and to know God in new and magnificent ways.

I wouldn’t choose the pain, but rarely would anyone. I wouldn’t choose the harm done to those who were specifically targeted by a no vote, but who truly would. Sometimes that’s just the way of things in this “outside of the garden of Eden // already but not yet kingdom of God” that we live in today. We don’t get to choose what happens sometimes and God knows that. So God sends us the community we need to look around and perceive the new thing. The way in the wilderness and the streams in the wasteland are often the people stuck in the wilderness and the wasteland with us. The beloved community is forged often from adversity, and that is the beautiful grace of God made evident in our lives. That is what teaches us how to walk. That is what makes all the difference.