A Firm Anchor

This one goes out to all those who have called me out on my blogging leave of absence.

Truthfully, all of the major life-changes over the past 6 months have been pretty challenging for me.  I'm not sure what I expected when I left InterVarsity with no plan other than moving back to Indiana, but I do see how the Lord has used this season to teach me a lot about myself - who I am and how I respond when all the structures of my life are pulled away.  I figured it would be difficult and that I would face a lot of identity issues as I forced myself to slow down, stop 'producing,' and simply receive a season of rest.

Many have heard me say, "I just don't feel like myself," or, "I feel like major portions of who I am are lying dormant."  It has been challenging to move from leading a ministry at an academically elite university, experiencing much growth in a Christ-centered church family, and living in the most ethnically/culturally diverse neighborhood in Chicago to living in a small(ish) town in Indiana, working at a restaurant, and investing in a church family that is wonderful but extremely different (as it should be).  In the midst of this, there have been moments of feeling like my life is unrecognizable.

I recently finished reading The Hunger Games trilogy.  There is a part in the last book where the main character, Katniss Everdeen, has been through quite a bit of trauma and is mentally/emotionally unstable.  The doctors have her recite a list of simple facts about herself in order to anchor herself in reality - My name is Katniss Everdeen.  I am seventeen years old.  My home is District 12.  I was in the Hunger Games.  I escaped.  The Capitol hates me...  Her list goes on, but I'll not spoil it if you still want to read the series.  At any rate, it got me thinking about how I anchor my sense of self and reality.  My gut instinct is often to begin listing accomplishments - My name is Rachel Drolen.  I am from Indiana, but my home is Chicago.  I went to graduate school at Moody.  I worked in full-time Christian collegiate ministry.  I love to teach the Word.  I speak Spanish.  I get worked up about agriculture and sustainability. 

I have to sense the Lord's kindness in stripping away such a list.  That is not my anchor.  Trying to make that my anchor will only leave me dissatisfied and self-consumed.  Rather, the Father reminds me that my list is more along these lines - I am Rachel Drolen, a beloved daughter of the Most High God.  I am a citizen of Christ's unshakeable kingdom.  In Christ I have been cleansed, accepted, adopted into a family, and made whole.  I am perfectly loved, regardless of what I do, and I am sent to love others unto wholeness in Christ.  Whether in Chicago or Indiana, full-time ministry or waiting tables, this anchor enables me to live joyfully with a sense of meaning and purpose.

Perhaps the sweetest encouragement I have received in response to these feelings that so much of what I care about is not finding expression in my life right now,  is that perhaps those passions are resting for this season only to bear greater fruit in the future.  May it be so!

Variables or Mystery

I've been planning (and placing said plans on the back burner) to do some focused writing on philosophy of agriculture and ministry.   In the meantime, I continue to see such overt parallels between the state of industrialized agriculture and the life of the American church.

I find more and more fuel for the fire of what the Lord is stirring me toward in ministry in these unexpected places, and it has been both an affirmation and an upheaval of what I imagined ministry and life to look like. My friends, it has been quite a journey, traipsing further and further down this 'rabbit hole.' I am hopeful that all this is of the Spirit and will lead to good fruit for His glory.

Here is an excerpt from Michael Pollan:

The problem is that once science has reduced a complex phenomenon to a couple of variables, however important they may be, the natural tendency is to overlook everything else, to assume that what you can measure is all there is, or at least all that really matters. When we mistake what we can know for all there is to know, a healthy appreciation of one's ignorance in the face of a mystery like soil fertility gives way to the hubris that we can treat nature as a machine. Once that leap has been made, one input follows another, so that when the synthetic nitrogen fed to plants makes them more attractive to insects and vulnerable to disease, as we have discovered, the farmer turns to chemical pesticides to fix his broken machine...a healthy sense of all we don't know - even a sense of mystery - keeps us from reaching for oversimplifications and technological silver bullets...Plants grown in synthetically fertilized soils are less nourishing than ones grown in composted soils; such plants are more vulnerable to diseases and insect pests; polycultures are more productive and less prone to disease than monocultures; and that in fact the health of the soil, plant, animal, human, and even nation are connected along lines we can now begin to draw with empirical confidence.

As we have industrialized the agricultural process, solving only for the variables of productivity and highest yield, we have reduced the nutrition of what is grown and caused a complicated web of pollution and waste in the process. While the quantity of food is immense, there are hidden costs that can only remain veiled for so long - from a system contingent on fossil fuels rather than the historical precedent of sun-based agriculture, even to the health of our nation as a whole (it should not be a surprise that the shift in our agricultural practices back in the 50's coincided with an alarming rise in obesity, which has now been called a national epidemic).

Our food choices are one thing, but how have the same undergirding philosophies that brought about the rise of agribusiness also invaded the American church?  I appreciate Pollan's words about maintaining a healthy appreciation of our own ignorance in the face of mystery.  We don't like that in nature, and we certainly don't like that in relationship to God.  Rather than accepting that the Spirit invades our lives in a variety of ways yielding growth and opening our eyes to see the Father clearly, we create programs and curriculum that is certain to produce results - read this book, go to that conference, etc.  Certainly such things have merit and have yielded growth in the lives of many, but I wonder at times if they play a similar role to all these synthetic fertilizers that, yes, bring about amazing growth, but also create unintended problems that we need to fix with yet more artificial inputs.  What are these unintended problems? Rather than engaging with and knowing the Living God, we hide behind titles and accomplishments and pride mounts its counter attack.  We're able to go through the motions with the appearance of growth, while actually lacking substance and nourishment.  In short, we can play the system, move through the curriculum, be patted on the back - all while not actually growing in love for God and people.

To put things mildly, this is problematic for the health of the church.  So how do we move from church as agribusiness to church as the small family farm?  I suppose that's what I've been spending the past year trying to wrap my mind around.  I know it needs to involve depth of relationship and intimacy with those on the journey with you - church as the family of God living on mission together, rather than an impersonal institution.  More thoughts to come...

Raymond Park

My face is red and chapped,

But the heat, the rain, the snow –

They will not still this relentless complaint.

I must be heard.

And so I return to this place.

Daily, I pour out my complaint,

But no one listens;

I beat the air.

I preach to the wind.

I wait.

I have trampled the life around me,

This circle of dead grass is an altar to my pride.

I will not move forward until my complaint is heard,

And so I return.

Maybe tomorrow change will come;

Maybe tomorrow I’ll have my answer;

Maybe tomorrow I won’t need to return.

Where would I go?

This circle has become my home;

My complaint my closest companion.

I am tormented by the weight of it;

I am fearful of freedom;

I am ruined.

The life I want most for myself...

I was recently reading a spiritual formation book that had an exercise where you write out as a prayer the life that you want most for yourself. At this transitional moment in life, it struck me as a helpful thing to do. Really it gets at a redefining of success...here's what I came up with (I wrote in list format out of laziness - sorry!):

 The life I want most for myself is...

 - to walk in holy reverence before the Lord daily and love as Christ loves.
 - to be steadied by wisdom and filled with the joy that comes from seeing Christ clearly - the perfect wisdom of God.
- to always be found ready to serve sacrificially and be poured out on behalf of others.
- to carry traces of the kingdom into whatever context the Lord places me.
- to, in faith, see the Lord's hand at work in every circumstance and daily trust Him more.
- to be sensitive and obedient to the promptings of the Spirit.
- to actively carry others toward closer intimacy with the Father.

 I wanted to be more specific rather than conceptual, but I just couldn't bring myself to it. If my ability to be faithful and fruitful for the kingdom is bound to a circumstance or context, then I have limited the power of God who is over all and in all. As Psalm 139 states, If I ascend to the heavens, You are there. If I make my bed in Sheol, behold, You are there. If I take the wings of the dawn, if I dwell in the remotest part of the sea, even there Your hand will lead me and your right hand will uphold me. If I say surely the darkness will overwhelm me and the light around me will be as night. Even darkness is not dark to You and the night will shine as bright as the day. Darkness and light are alike to You.

 This, my friends, sounds like a pretty sweet life.

Merton on Humility

I came across this short paragraph on humility by Thomas Merton, and thought I'd share.
I finally picked up my first book of Merton's writings, convinced that I need to expand my circle of theological/literary influence - so far no regrets :)


A humble man can do great things with an uncommon perfection because he is no longer concerned about incidentals, like his own interests and his own reputation, and therefore he no longer needs to waste his efforts in defending them.
For a humble man is not afraid of failure. In fact, he is not afraid of anything; even himself, since perfect humility implies perfect confidence in the power of God before Whom no other power has any meaning and for Whom there is no such thing as an obstacle.
Humility is the surest sign of strength.

Oh that we would carry humble hearts, confident only in the surpassing power of the Father!

Apple Seeds - Week #11

Well, friends, there has been some exponential growth in the past couple weeks :) I'll keep things short because I'm still in the Upper Peninsula, and internet connection is limited.
It really is incredible that so much biomass can accumulate out of the simple raw materials of dirt, water, and sunshine. Here is the photographic evidence...

Apple Seeds - Week #9

Can you believe it has been so long? Time for an update...

Last week I moved. It was a somewhat difficult, emotional move - saying goodbye to Chicago after six years...truly some of the greatest years I've yet had; full of growth and precious friendships.

In the midst of preparing to move I kept eyeing my apple seeds, thinking - 'geez I should just throw those away.' For two months they were just hanging out in the refrigerator, seemingly doing nothing. A few days before the move I surveyed the refrigerator to see what was mine...I pulled the seeds out, and yet again there were no signs of growth. Frustrated, I put them back in and decided I'd make the final call to throw them away later.

Well, moving day rolled around...I opened the refrigerator to gather my things and looked longingly at the bag of seeds. I picked them up to toss them but gave the bag a glance...the seeds SPROUTED!!!!!



I can't tell you how much it meant to me. With this move feeling pretty daunting and emotional, somehow the seeds sprouting felt like a tender affirmation that everything is going to be ok.
So, I potted 4 of the sprouts. I'm spending this whole month in the Upper Peninsula, and I couldn't bear the thought of leaving all of the 'young hopefuls' under another's care, so I brought one with me.

More progress reports forthcoming.