It’s not that I have nothing to say.  I’m just not sure how to say what I’ve been wanting to say.

I’m finding myself in kind of a strange season right now – I’ve been internalizing a lot, but experiencing a lack of words to express that with which I am wrestling.

Praying.

Wrestling.

Waiting.

… really hurts.

So, as I’ve been participating in the Hundred Pushup Challenge for the past 5 weeks or so, I’ve been getting a little bit of an ego boost in the form of arm and shoulder muscles that had been previously non-existent.  That ego boost has also been a bit of a pride boost. (Just picture me parading around the house in a sports bra and sweatpants flexing my arm muscles in front of every mirror – it’s actually kind of ridiculous.)

So, yesterday (on Easter Sunday, no less) as I sat with some of the youth from PLC at the Easter Pancake Breakfast, I was bragging (just a little, I swear!) to them about my buff arms and washboard (ha! not yet) abs from working out.  So of course on of them was like, “prove it!” and challenged me to an arm wrestling duel.  Well, being the competitive soul that I am, I had to take her up on the challenge and easily defeated her on the first try – piece of cake, right?  Yeah.  So then she told me I should arm wrestle Scott.  Since my ego had already been inflated at that point, and I was pretty confident in my new found arm strength, I took her up on the challenge and prepared myself to pin Scott’s arm to the table.

After several minutes of hard-fought battle, neither Scott nor myself were getting anywhere in the battle.  We were at a stalemate (and I was pretty proud of the fact that I was holding my own against my super buff fiance).  Then, perhaps in a moment of brilliance, that youth grabbed both our arms and pulled both down causing me to “lose” the match.

And that, my friends, is when I began to feel it.  Soreness began to creep into my shoulder.  Oh, the pain.  And today, it was multiplied.  My arm is weak.  I fear the gravity of the injury, so I’m waiting it out before I jump to go see a doctor about it.  Either way, I’m feeling the consequences of my pride, and if I can tell you one thing, I can tell you this: pride hurts in the end.

Although you wouldn’t really be able to tell from looking out my window at the 3 inches of snow that fell today, the seasons are beginning to change.  Winter turns to spring.  Academic busy-ness turns to spring fever and summer fun.  The ministry madness of the Christmas to Easter season begins to turn slowly to the more relaxed pace and flexibility of summer ministry.

As I was glancing today through my calendar for the next few months, I couldn’t help but notice something.  While there certainly isn’t a lack of work to do, events to plan, and family functions to attend in the coming months, they are looking significantly less full than the past few months have been.  Things are beginning to wind down for a season – you know how I can tell?

• The number of youth events on my calendar has dropped.  SAC lunches are down to a minimum (due to upcoming holidays that fall on the 2nd Sunday of the month) and we’re preparing to wind down this academic-year-season of youth ministry at PLC.
• There are fewer classes on the calendar this quarter.  Since one of my registered classes this quarter is Field Study, which is mostly taking place in conjunction with my ministry at PLC, I have fewer classes per week and at least the notion of less homework.  It’s a nice reprieve and lead-in to summer.
• My little sister graduates from college in a month!  Even though her academic calendar finishes up about a month before mine, I’m already hearing the sounds of summer.

In addition to the change in perceived busy-ness, I’ve noticed a bit of a shift in my ministry.  What does this season look for me as I face a calendar with fewer events and more office hours?

• Evaluation – For the first time I am facing the end of this academic-year-season of ministry knowing with certainty that I’ll be continuing in my ministry in this place.  I’ve been spending a lot of time lately reflecting on how we’ve done youth ministry this year at PLC and trying to figure out ways to build on that for next year.
• Relational Connections – I’m beginning to step up my efforts in connecting with youth on their “turf” through coffee connections, texting (as much as I despise it sometime) and just checking in to see how they have grown during the course of the year.
• Future Planning – I’m in the early stages of figuring out where Youth Ministry at PLC will be headed next year.  We’re in a place right now where some shifts are beginning to happen, and I’m excited to see where God is calling us to go this Fall.

… or perhaps I’m just settling into the “normalcy” of adulthood.

Ever since my silent retreat at Mowana last week, I’ve actually experienced some regularity in my sleeping habits.  I’ve been in bed by 11:00 almost every night and up before 9:00 (actually before 8 most days) every day.

I feel like I have a lot to say, but not the words to say it.
There’s been a lot going on in my life lately.
God is up to some big stuff, and I’m really excited about it.

That will all have to wait for another day, though.

It’s about my bed time.

God has been challenging me this Lenten season in big ways.  I journaled about this on March 2nd, but figured that it’s definitely blog-worthy:

I noticed a lady in the waiting room at the Cleveland Clinic today who seemed to be upset about something.  I couldn’t tell for sure, but as I occasionally heard what sounded like the sniffles of sorrow, I began to notice something: I was aware.  Not only was I aware, but I felt compelled to do something – talk to her, pray for her, anything.  I’d like to say that the story ends with me walking over, striking up a conversation, and then praying with her.  Unfortunately, though, the ending is quite different.  Rather than acting out of compassion I just sat there, minding my own business and occasionally glancing over to observe her state.  Then a nurse came in and invited her back to the recovery room to join whoever it was she had accompanied to the office today.   I then watched in humility as this woman struggled out of her chair and into two arm braces/crutches and struggled across the room on her clearly handicapped and under-developed legs.

Now, I know nothing about this woman.  I don’t know if she was upset or if she was just getting over a cold.  I don’t know her story, who she was waiting on, or what she believes.

What I do know is this:  I failed to express the love of Christ and seize the opportunity to serve him by loving another person.  It makes me wonder – if she had been undeniably upset would I have done something or said something?  Do I have the courage to step out of my comfort zone like that?  Did I miss out on an opportunity to minister to someone in the name of Christ?

There are some life lessons that you just can’t learn in a classroom.  One of them is humility.

I’ve been journaling a lot through this Lenten journey.  What I have lacked in “blogging” I have certainly accounted for in pages upon pages of internal reflection during this time.  I think it’s been healthy.  Here’s a glimpse at where I’ve been so far:

Tomorrow, Ash Wednesday, marks the beginning of the liturgical season of Lent – a time for returning to God, a time of preparation for Christ’s death on the cross, and a time for emptying ourselves of those things which hold us back from a deeper relationship with Christ… I am so excited to see how God will use the extra time and energy in my spiritual and relational walk.  I am anxious to see what he has planned. (2/24/09)

I’m not so sure this would be such a big deal if others didn’t make it so dramatic…I haven’t felt it yet, but I half expect to experience at least some phase of loneliness during this thing. (2/25/09)

I’m finding that it’s really easy to make this whole deal into some over-dramatic pity party about how I’m completely cut off from civilization, blah blah blah.  I’ve tried to blame it on other people being over-dramatic, but I must admit that I have committed much of the dramatization myself…I’m really experiencing a considerable amount of FREEDOM… I’m praying for the endurance to run this course and to finish it better than I started it. (2/26/09)

If I spent half the energy I do on wondering what everyone else might be doing right now actually seeking to understand what God is up to right now… there would be freedom… I could potentially feel much more connected to what God is already doing around me and could thus become more connected to His mission and will.  (2/28/09)

I’m sure Satan is lurking and just waiting for my guard to drop – I pray that it will not! (3/1/09)

While there are certainly challenges in a culture that is so chained to the internet, the blessings have already far outweighed any “suffering.”  It’s hard to put into words the ways in which things have changed.  There’s a sense of freedom that I love. (3/3/09)

I continue to anticipate the ways that God will continue to provide provision, pardon, and protection in this season. (3/4/09)

I know that I can’t place my self worth in what other people do or say, yet I found myself doing exactly that on several occasions today… I’m in a position where I’m forced to face these feelings… No more escape.  No more running.  Just some real honest reflection about what’s really going on here.  Where do I get my self worth?  To whom am I really connected?  How do I face feelings of loneliness?  What do I do about it?  Where do I instinctively turn?… The breaking isn’t fun… the truth is, though, that we need the brokenness to experience the healing and restoration.  That is the hope that we look for in the resurrection.  (3/5/09)

It’s raining right now.  Well, it just started raining.  It always rains, doesn’t it?  I don’t really want to be around anyone, but I feel really lonely… God is definitely humbling me in this Lenten journey.  It’s not glamorous.  It’s not supposed to be glamorous.  I don’t want it to be glamorous.  (3/6/09)

The breaking – the tearing – the destruction of the old for the sake of new life.  I feel it… I feel it in my soul and I feel it in my bones.  Little by little God is tearing me down – peeling away the layers upon layers of selfishness, of pride, of fear, of insecurity – slowly working His way into the depths of my soul.  It’s a painful process.  My failures and insecurities are being revealed.  (3/8/09)

I feel like a complete and total failure… I am terrified for the rest of this week.  I feel disconnected from people.  I am worn out from awareness of my insecurities… I’m incredibly frustrated with myself – for being selfish, for acting defensively out of anger, for getting angry with people, for not putting enough into my school work, and for failing at doing the things I am most passionate about. (3/9/09)

Thy will be done.  Use me as you will.  Be my everything. (3/11/09)

I do find it interesting that God does not simply offer rest for the weary, but he commands it. (3/12/09)

I feel like I am learning so much lately – and not just head knowledge… but heart knowledge… It has included breaking, and humility, and heartache… I know that God is up to something big in me, and I’m excited to see it as it continues to unfold.  (3/13/09)

Tonight I am completely and totally exhausted.  I need rest – the deep kind of rest that revives the soul.  This process of breaking down has been a challenge unlike any I have experienced up to this point.  I have become raw in the process as my own flaws and insecurities and fears have been brought to the forefront.  I have been reduced to tears, and anger, and humility.  And now I am longing for restoration.  I’m aching for the hope of the resurrection.  I long to rest in Christ – to know that I belong to him and that I am loved. (3/15/09)

I love watching people who I care about do the things that they are passionate about.  And more than watching, I love involving myself.

Perhaps that explains my recent fascination with high school basketball.  It’s strange.  When I was in high school, I never attended a single basketball game, and I had no desire to do so.  This past December, I attended my first high school girls’ basketball game to cheer on a girl from our youth group (and a friend of hers who is a frequent visitor) who play on the varsity girls basketball team.  Since then, I’ve made it to four additional games and become almost compulsive about checking scores for not only their team, but other teams in the district and conference, and even my own high school (which I graduated from over 5 years ago!).  I don’t even particularly care for the sport, but since I have a connection through a person I’m invested in, I have become involved.

I love watching people who I care about do the things that they are passionate about.  And more than watching, I love involving myself.

While in college I used to sneak up into the balcony of the chapel during the times when the worship dance ministry practiced.  I would sit up there reading, or journaling, or just watching.  It was almost as though through watching the movement of others in worship I was able to participate in that which they were so passionate about.  I’m not a dancer, and probably will never have the poise or grace to lead others in worship through dance, but since I had a connection through people I was invested in, I became involved.

I love watching people who I care about do the things that they are passionate about.  And more than watching, I love involving myself.

What is it that draws us into things?  What is it that involves us?  For me it is the passion of a person in whom I have a vested interest.  It kind of makes me wonder.  What is it that I do with such passion that others are drawn into involvement?  Is there anything that I do with such passion?

I’d like to think that I am passionate about following Christ.  But do I really follow Christ with such passion that others are drawn into a relationship with Him?  I sure hope so.

For the past four years, I have allowed you to consume my life.  And I’m afraid that our relationship has gone too far.  I have allowed my self-worth to be dictated by wall-posts, comments and friend requests.  I have allowed you to make me feel popular whenever I browse through my 4823923 friends, when in reality there are only a handful of those folks who I could even consider real friends.

You have given me the pleasure of re-connecting with acquaintances of old (remember what’s-her-name from preschool who moved away when we were like 4?  yeah, we’re friends now thanks to you!), and have given me a new and shiny, yet somehow artificial way to be “friends” with relatives, co-workers, and my sister’s friend’s little sister.  You have given me the ability to know that what’s-his-name-the-high-school-football-team is now a father to kids with two different mothers, and to know in an instant who is dating whom.  If it weren’t for you, I would have no idea that girl-from-choir and guy-from-band ended up getting married after all.  Seriously, what would I do without you, Facebook?

Oh yeah, remember that time that we spent hours upon hours together as I wasted away my life playing Tetris thanks to that wonderful little app you like to call “Tetris Friends”?  I think I may have actually lost friends because of that little trist.  And speaking of apps, how would I ever tell my friends how much I care about them if it weren’t for Bumper Stickers and Flair?  Thanks to you, it has been months, if not years since I actually sent someone a hand-written note.  Why waste the energy when I’m sure there’s already a bumper sticker that says “I love you!”.

And why do you tempt me so by suggesting more people I may know?  You know as well as I do that I have no idea who at least half those people are and that the other half are people that I had long since forgotten.  But hey, since you think I should be friends with that popular kid from high school who made fun of me all the time, why not?  Maybe things have changed since then, right?

Oh, and remember that picture?  Yeah, the one from that time at camp when I hadn’t showered in a week?  Remember how someone found it and made it the face of Erin Satterlee for WELL Leadership my senior year?  Ok, maybe that wasn’t so bad.  But seriously, I blame that partly on you.

I heard a song on the radio that reminded me of you.  It brought back all kinds of memories.

I don’t know what I’ve done
Or if I like what I’ve begun
But something told me to run
And honey you know me it’s all or none

There were sounds in my head
Little voices whispering
That I should go and this should end
Oh and I found myself listening

‘Cause I don’t know who I am, who I am without you
All I know is that I should

(Thanks, Missy)

That song came on the radio, and I thought of you.  Then I thought of me.  I realized that I’ve invested way too much of myself into this relationship – far more than I should.  And it’s come to the point where I seriously don’t know who I am without you, and it’s time for that to change.

Anyway, what I guess I’m trying to say is that I think we need to take a break.  I need some time to find myself – to invest myself in all of those things that you have taken me away from – in God, in family, in love, and in real friendship (you know, the kind where you sit and have coffee and talk face-to-face).  You can go ahead and spread your facebook love around to all the other people out there (in fact, I’m sure you have hardly even noticed my disappearance since I walked out on you last night about this time).

Seriously though, it’s not you, it’s me.

I guess I’ll see you later.

Sincerely,

Erin Satterlee

This year marks the first in quite a number that I have not been able to attend an Ash Wednesday service (mainly because all of the churches I would attend for a service only have one at 7pm which falls right in the middle of my night class).  While I miss the symbolic act of the imposition of ashes as the start to the Lenten season, I have had the opportunity to spend a considerable amount of time today in reflection over the beginning of this journey (especially with all of the newfound spare time I have without the old ball and chain of internet communication tying me to the computer for every waking hour).

In particular I’ve been reflecting on a passage from the Old Testament book of Joel that is typically read during the observance of Ash Wednesday:

Rend your heart
and not your garments.
Return to the LORD your God,
for he is gracious and compassionate,
slow to anger and abounding in love,
and he relents from sending calamity.
(Joel 2:13)

Rend your hearts and not your garments. This season and journey is not primarily about giving up facebook, instant messenger, twitter, or any other form of internet communication (or whatever else you may choose to abstain from).  Rather, it is about “rending one’s heart” and “returning to the Lord.”  And it’s about doing whatever is necessary to make that happen.

Obviously I’ve made some sort of judgment call as to what is necessary for me.  For you it may be something different – it may mean adding a discipline, intentionally engaging in additional service to others, or eliminating something else from your life in order to make more room for Christ.

Whatever it be, I pray that you are blessed as you walk this journey.

The liturgical season of Lent has always been one of my favorite seasons of the church year.  This year, I’m particularly excited for the Lenten journey to which God has called me.  Ben recently wrote a wonderful post about Giving Up, Giving Out, and Taking In noting that:

…the season of Lent is not just about giving up things.  Sweets, soda, television, or Facebook.  Lent was a time to fill ourselves with the things of God.  So we empty ourselves of these simple pleasures that we might be filled up with the joy of Christ.  Lent is a time to be drawn closer and to draw closer to God.

There have been years that I have painstakingly legalistic about forcing myself to give up things such as dessert, soda, caffeine, meat, etc. without so much as a thought of filling that space with the joy of Christ.  What is the point if we are not throwing ourselves whole-heartedly at the feet of Jesus, emptying ourselves of our worldly desires and filling ourselves with His love.

So, here’s the deal.  In light of recent struggles and confessions, I’ve been spending some time in prayer and reflection over what God may be calling me to in this Lenten season.  Where does He desire me to empty myself and what areas of my life need to be filled by Him?

For the next 40 days I will be emptying myself of the need to be artificially connected to people:  I have deactivated my facebook account, I will be signing off of Instant Messenger and will most likely stop Twittering.

In place of artificially maintained relationships I will be filling myself: I will be investing heavily in my relationship with God and re-discovering His love, I will be investing in “real life” relationships – with Scott, with my family, with friends, with my youth.  And I will be fully present in those relationships.

So, basically my only outlet for internet communication will be here at the blog – and I even questioned giving that up (but it turns out that blogging is typically beneficial in that it helps me to reflect on God, life, and love).

I look forward to sharing this journey with you.