Panik Yüklü

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       So I have a confession, I love tattoos. I think they are a beautiful form of artwork that is unique not only to the tattoo artist but also to the person who chose the tattoo to be placed on their body. As they say tattoos are permanent, not coming out completely even with surgery. So when I make the decision to have one placed upon my body it had better have a dam good reason for being there.  My most recent tattoo is “Panik Yüklü” on my left wrist. It means don’t panic in Turkish.  Now the story I tell people about this tattoo is somewhat bland. But the real story is so much more interesting.

            So Turkey has always been a place that I have wanted to go to. I can’t tell you why, but I knew in my soul that I needed to go to Turkey.  It’s been a gut feeling since my freshman year of high school, I HAD TO GO. So when the opportunity presented itself in in-between the summer of my second and third year of seminary I knew it was mine for the taking. When I signed up for the class in December I had no clue what changes where coming my way in-between then and May. Facing many of my demons challenged my ability to go to Turkey. It was unsure if I was going to be able to go.  But with a lot of strength and being a pest to the person who decided, I was able to go.

October 2012

           

I do have terrible anxiety, I’m told its Generalized Anxiety Disorder,(GAD) and Panic Disorder. And I was already anxious about going to Turkey and having to be ‘perfect’ in terms of my moods and not have any epic meltdowns. Because I was a ten-hour plane ride from my therapist, and a 3AM phone call would not have been appreciated. So each day was a challenge to me, but it was so very much worth it. It was an amazing trip. The trip of a lifetime, yes I did get a carpet that I love very much. But on our second to last day in Turkey we where headed into the European side of Istanbul and one of my friends on the trip with us tripped on a turnstile and got very flustered. A transit worker was standing nearby and yelled ‘panik yuklu!’ to us. Unsure of what he said we asked our professor and she translated it as don’t panic.  It took me several weeks to think of the powerful message that this man had said to us.

May 2012 w/Emily and Susan

            I continued to panic nearly everyday for the next three months, but I worked and work very hard to check my anxiety and know my triggers.  But ‘Panik Yüklü’ stuck with me. So I decided to get it as a visual reminder where I would see it a lot.  I when to the tattoo shop when they where having a fundraiser for 11^th Hour Rescue, a rescue group for dogs about to be put down. So I felt good about it all the way around.  This one hurt a little more then my other two that are on my ankles. But it was good pain (ah the curse of tattoos, they only hurt badly for a bit! And you don’t remember that bad hurt). I watched the ink seep into my skin and knew I had made the right choice.

            All of my tattoos have a spiritual meaning to me, my Jesus fish and my red balloon. The red balloon and panic yuklu have the most meaning because the represent triumph for me. Having the courage to tackle my demons, to face them and to not let fear be my basis for life. For me courage is the bedrock for faith. This is why the gospel of Mark is my favorite. When you read the true ending, you don’t know Jesus was resurrected. But the disciples had the courage to trust that they had experienced something, supernatural. However they still had the courage to follow Jesus’ instructions to them. To go into the unknown, to go places that are potentially very dangerous, yucky, and a host of other un-pleasantry’s. This is my type of faith that we don’t know the plan and it requires trust and courage to go forth. Courage requires the ability to not freak out all the time but rather to ‘Panik Yüklü’.

God is a Knitter

Even God is a knitter (in addition to being a potter, an artist, a poet, fire, and lots of other creative pursuits). The Psalmst tells us,

You made all the delicate, inner parts of my body and knit me together in my mother’s womb. Thank You for making me so wonderfully complex! Your workmanship is marvelous-how well I know it. You watched me as I was being formed in utter seclusion, as I was woven together in the dark of the womb. You saw me before I was born. Every day of my life was recorded in Your book. Every moment was laid out before a single day had passed.”

Psalm 139:13-16

As I wrap gifts for CHRISTmas this year for the first time ever I get to give a ‘grown up’ handmade gift. Not an ornament, not a foot angel but a scarf. Last winter I got the fantastic idea that I was going to learn how to knit. I had done it before so really it was just going to be getting back on the bicycle. How wrong I was, knitting for me was not like getting on a bicycle, or maybe it was as learning how to ride a bike for me was very difficult but more on that another time.  After a tense December for a multitude of reasons I looked upon January as a time of new beginnings, a way to restart to learn something new.

            Again I had no idea just what I was getting myself into. Susan who taught me how to knit and I would sit on Sunday nights and watch ABC’s Once Upon a Time and knit together. Even though she taught me our techniques where different but both still produced knitting. She was a knitter who would rip out messed up stitches and I would just let them be. I’m not really sure why I did not feel the need to rip the stitches out. Granted in my first scarf this led to a HUGE hole. But she also told me that knitting reflects the state of our souls. I think of knitting as an embodied prayer, the clacking of the two sticks together the conversations that go on during group knitting, the bumping of hands that meet when trying to show how to hold the needles just right. That first scarf became a goal scarf for me; it was a sign that I could do something good, after a time of feeling that I was only capable of failure.

            But back to the Christmas scarf, I started this scarf in my room at Drew casting on 30 stitches. Then knitted a few rows in the international terminal at JFK, a few more rows in Antakya Turkey, then some more on the road between Tarus and Nevisher Turkey. More on the Turkey trip some other time. Then I got home and worked on it on and off, trying to work out my frustrations with life in those sticks and fiber. Trying to knit the holes of my own life together. I had thought from the start that I would give this scarf away. But about half way though I wondered how I could give this scarf to anyone with all of these broken feelings that I had fed into it in the process of turning it into a scarf.

            But then I thought of the person I was giving it to. Someone who fully gets the brokenness that I feel, for they have felt it also.  Working to battle the holes and the frustrations, the sadness but likewise the joy that I worked into that scarf. So I give this scarf to this person with all of this, knowing that all of the individual stitches work together to create rows of bumps, that form into inches, that form into the scarf. Knowing that this person and I are knitted together forever in our souls just like this scarf.

Shattered Moments

So this week well writing my report to my church on my process to ordination, I was conflicted. I have long had the benefit of having a loving supportive sending church, who have proven there support in many ways. But how could I quite tell time, I am really struggling with my call, who I am, and how I believe in God. I was warned that I would face my ‘seminary crisis’ everyone does. I escaped my first year and a half (four and a half semesters! Fall, January, Spring, Summer, and almost my second Fall) without it becoming apparent to me.

Then life as it has a tendency to hit me in the face, getting hit at my job as a chaplain at a psych hospital. Then an important person to me became severely ill and was in the hospital for the entire month of December. I started then to shield the truth from a lot of people. This tormented me, because I like to be a straight shooter.

            Then Jan. Term rolled around and I took a class called “Ministry and the Imagination: Come Holy Spirit”. Well I think that class opened me up to the roller coaster ride that was going to be the next several months. We discussed the qualities of the Holy Sprit and how she is a pest. I talked about how I saw her roosting in places you would not expect. I felt incredibly close to her then. But suddenly I stopped feeling close to her and to God. Being who I am, I was doing 15 credits at school, and working two part time jobs. I was sure I could handle it; I always had in the past.

            I started to slowly fall apart; it was sleeping a little more, crying a lot more, not doing my homework because I had no energy. I was getting to involved with patients emotionally, brining work home, and starting to wonder where God had gone in my life. I loved school and I loved my hospital job. But somehow I had forgotten to love me.I was starting to crack.

            I cracked and had a complete meltdown that knocked me out of my status quo for two weeks. But also kept me from living and just kept me existing. I went from cracked and broken to shattered, in the matter of a few weeks. 

       How do I tell the people above my home church who discern my call to the church. They want people who are not shattered, broken is ok, but shattered not so much. I am still hopeful that my ordination will happen someday. But how long will it take, will it be in the tradition that I love (most of the time)?

            So what do I tell them, I tell them that its been challenging, I tell them about my classes, how I learned how to knit, the process but keeping it all vague. Shielding the truth again. I dislike it but until we have a church that truly wants shattered people these fears of mine will continue for me and countless others.

A Year of Thanks 2012

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            A thanks to the friend who ‘caught me’ and made me go get help

            A thanks to the friend who let me cry on her bed

            A thanks to the friend who taught me how to knit

            A thanks to the classmates that helped the Holy Spirit to dwell and open me

            A thanks to the co-workers who taught me

            A thanks to the folks I ministered with, for teaching me, and letting me be part of your life, your secrets, and your hopes

            A thanks to the people in my life who understood

            A thanks for the couple who bought me pancakes on Palm Sunday

            A thanks to the roommate who shared her bunny with me

            A thanks for the courtyard conversations

            A thanks to the folks who I traveled with, who made a dream possible

            A thanks to the teachers who where willing to go to bat for me

            A thanks to the folks who I know that I can sick on others to fight for me

            A thanks to the people I’ve met this year who get where I’m coming from

            A thanks to face book for keeping me intact, and connected

            A thanks for pharmaceuticals

            A thanks to the people who are part of my ‘team’

            A thanks to Barnes and Noble for keeping me stocked

            A thanks for glue, that has allowed me to glue part of my life to paper

            A thanks to Amazon for keeping me stocked on just about everything

            A thanks to the TV show Rev. for helping me to keep things in perspective

            A thanks for the time of darkness to learn how to see differently in the obscure

            A thanks to the time spent on the bus for two weeks

            A thanks to Hope

            A thanks to journaling

            A thanks to art, and music

            A thanks to the inspiration that helped me hit my first home run, and experience my first post sermon high

            A thanks for the detour

            A thanks for the five day time out

            A thanks to the jerks who made me stand up to them, and restored my courage

            A thanks to the internet for information, and comradely,

            A thanks to the worlds best nurse

            A thanks for Sunday night TV watching

            A thanks to community, even when it is complicated

            A thanks to ‘all in this together’

            A thanks to the Turkish public works man who said ‘Panik Yuklu’ to us

            A thanks for the steak knives going to butter knives

            A thanks for tea

            A thanks for my carpet

            A thanks for dreams, not dashed

            A thanks for new dreams to be dreamed

            A thanks for loss, and the grieving and mourning that come with it

            A thanks for new experiences that, challenge, uplift, push down, and push back

            A thanks for my air conditioner

            A thanks for Snapple, and my Snapple dealer

            A thanks for freinds who celebrate with you, and weep with you

            A thanks for the scholarships I get to go to school

            A thanks to all that have taught me this past year, good, bad, indifferent, what I want to do, what I don’t want to do, life lessons of all sorts

            A thanks to those who made me learn something on my own. 

<3

Let us Camp out Together, on the Floor

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            So true to the title of my blog, I was once again a physical itinerant camper this week. With Sandy laying her wrath on New Jersey, Drew kept power until about nine pm on Monday night. I could have gone home but decided that it was safer to stay ironically in the University in the Forest. On Tuesday morning the trees and branches down on campus was incredible. Campus faired well with the exception of damage to one residential building.  Come Tuesday afternoon we where told that we needed to evacuate campus. The place that they found for us students was a United Methodist church down the road. I gathered my ‘go bag’ pillow, blankets, a pair of sturdy shoes, yoga mat and some snacks to stay for an indefinite period of time.

            Loading up our cars, we formed a caravan down the road and the parade of pepple into the church looked like we were preparing for a week at summer camp. I stayed in the Beyonce Suite, or the Single Ladies Suite. We where fed and my friend K, who works at the church provided me with her inflatable mattress. I was very excited to not sleep on the floor and was able to provide my yoga mat to another lady staying with us. It was a little uncomfortable but nothing compared to the news we where receiving from those around us.

            Wednesday morning everyone wandered around a bit trying to figure out the true lay out of the land. Fed well for the day my friend S and I walked into town and found so much damage. The craziest thing I viewed was a lamp post hanging over a power line. But it was so nice to see that business that where open where sharing there power and heat, to provide wi-fi and charging stations.  We returned back to the church and hung out for a bit and then received a visit from the new UM Bishop of Greater New Jersey. Then well he was still in the building the power went out. This rose some tensions in the building, but we managed. S prepared dinner for us with her book light as a head lamp in her headband. Clever S.

            I went with K to go gather more blankets to help keep our families with babies and toddlers warm and then B a president of a student caucus on campus came with Korean food. Prepared for us by a congregant of a connected church to Drew.  She also was there everyday to make sure that everyone was well and warm.  It was wonderful to see my two colleagues in ministry take ‘thou authority’, and do ministry in ways the had not planed for.

            We spent Wednesday night in the dark, but this provided opportunity for ‘girl talk’ and some incredibly funny moments. Such as the scared monastic, or a fellow student fearful of the dark cold sanctuary. She ended up using the Noah system or the buddy system.

            Thursday morning was tense as we awaited the news if we would be moving to another church, the town shelter or hunkering down. We had really good pizza for lunch and then our Dean came and tried to get a read of the crowd. We where told about an hour latter to pack up as we where moving. But then the wonderful news came that power was back on at campus!  We where going home!

            This has been a humbling experience for me. Reminding me that we had the Ritz of shelter situations. We had a building and furniture to return to, well so many people do not have any of these things to return to.  There are so many lessons to be learned and so many scriptures that relate to this experience, but I felt well cared for and knew the Spirit to be fully present for our stay. 

*The title comes from a hymn that we sing frequently for communion here at school and the verse that sticks out for me is "Let us break bread together on our knees" then a snip-it "with our face to the rising Son, oh Lord have mercy on us"

Prayers inspired from "Aquainted with the Night" by Robert Frost

Acquainted with the Night

Robert Frost

I have been one acquainted with the night.
I have walked out in rain -- and back in rain.
I have outwalked the furthest city light.

I have looked down the saddest city lane.
I have passed by the watchman on his beat
And dropped my eyes, unwilling to explain.

I have stood still and stopped the sound of feet
When far away an interrupted cry
Came over houses from another street,

But not to call me back or say good-bye;
And further still at an unearthly height,
A luminary clock against the sky

Proclaimed the time was neither wrong nor right.
I have been one acquainted with the night.

Obscureness

O God of all creation, both light and dark we come a seekers and children looking to you. But often wondering what about the times when you are silent, when our wells run dry, and our spirits ache for you to return to us again.  We do the prayers, the readings, the meditations, the reflections, but still not even a whisper of your voice. O help us through this time of obscureness and give us the faith and hope to keep listening for your voice and to feel your light in our times of darkness. 

Give Us Strength

For the times when we all have known the darkness of night, without knowing the promise of the dawn, give us strength. When the darkness persists even in joy, give us strength.

 When we see those in darkness, give us strength.

To sit with them in darkness and give them rest, give us strength

 Lead us to peace in the times of darkness, give our hearts respite, give us strength.

Give us the courage to keep walking in the dark without light, give us strength. God lover of our souls help us to remember this in our times of darkness. Amen

Written By Betty Gannon 2012

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