A Good Day for Courage

Katherine Center

For years I've pondered, pined, and prayed about having a family of my own. I vehemently defended those who chose not to marry or have children and quietly wondered if I had made the right choice. I knew I didn’t want to get married just so I could have a child. But what was the alternative? My culture made it clear to me: marriage or no family.

Meanwhile I worked and worked and worked among Baptist women near and far, tolerated and loved. All the while believing that together we could make a difference, we could increase healthcare, education, and economic development among women globally. I still believe we can, but I also believe the job is bigger than just Baptist women. If we are to affect change at the level needed, we must work with women of all denominations and religions. The task is too great and too important for anything short of everyone.

More than a year ago I began asking friends what they thought about the possibility of me having a baby through a sperm donor. If this became a reality for me, would I ever work in Baptist life again? I didn’t know any unmarried, pregnant Baptist women ministers. That doesn’t mean they don’t exist, but I’ve never met one. Friends were intrigued by my questions. Some were more enthusiastic than others in their responses. Dissecting culture from call is an arduous task. Thankfully, the Spirit began to lead and it was clear I had my answer.

Today I am seven months pregnant and as my waistline grows, so does my desire to combine this new normal with a consistent call to minister near and far. Now more than ever increasing maternal health is in my thoughts. At the moment, I’m trying to quiet the hypothetical voices of those who may learn of my news and never speak to me again or even worse, tell me exactly what they think. If you had asked me 20 years ago if I would be pregnant as an unmarried 38 year old I would have laughed. But Sarah laughed too when she heard that she would be having a baby. That puts me in pretty good company. Mostly these days my laughter accompanies excitement for the future. It is a good day for courage, and so I share my story.

S

***For this post, I’m turning off comments. I welcome your words of encouragement or kind questions. I have much to share. You can email me at suzanahraffield@yahoo.com or message me on facebook or twitter.

***Thank you Katherine Center.

Ordinary Time

Mildred's Cornbread

As told to me by my grandmother over the phone because I lost the recipe she gave me

1 Cup Hoover's Fine Ground Meal
1 Teaspoon Salt
Enough water to make a patty. The more water the thinner the patty.
Oil in an iron skillet - "a good bit."
If you have time, place in oven on 350 for 20 or so minutes.
(If you don't have time, set oven on 400 or even 450 and watch carefully.)
Flip patties when firm enough to do so.)
Cook until you think they are done.
1 Cup serves one hungry person or two not so hungry people.
S

Alleluia

I cannot box up my alleluias. Don't try to make me. 40 days isn't long enough to mourn the loss of Jesus' life, and it is too long to do so year after year simply to make the inevitable more dramatic. I know from whence I came. I understand the power of dust and I crave its mark on my head as a symbol of community and life together. I long for it as an outward sign of the imago Dei that is within me.

There were healings, blessings and a triumphal entry during the last 40 days of Jesus' life.  There were late night dinners with friends, laughter and a lot of bread breaking. Yes, there was sadness and fear. Yes, I need forgiveness and no, I will not box up my alleluias.
S

Travel Well

There is an art to traveling well . . . a formula to packing perfectly. Experienced travelers know that besides money, food and water,  the things we must have involve prescriptions: medicine and glasses/contacts. Everything else can be purchased, borrowed or lived without.

I spent a lot of time traveling internationally in my twenties. I hit thirty countries before my thirtieth birthday. Every location was a gift that helped shape my growing world view.

In a spirit of remembrance, gratitude and dreaming . . . here is a list of favorite places. (People to follow.)

A hotel rooftop at sunrise in Mawlamyine, Burma.
The Baptist Church in Kidete, Tanzania.
The biggest campfire ever, In the Woods, Romania.
The floor of Lauran's apartment, Prague, Czech Republic.
A Bedouin tent, Wadi Rum, Jordan.

S

Thank you La Maison Boheme for the photo. 

growing orbits

Any one of the three would be miraculous.
S

picture props

tell it

"You set out to tell a story of some sort, to tell the truth as you feel it, because something is calling you to do so."

Anne Lamott (Bird by Bird)

(photo found here: http://be-the-change.tumblr.com/post/9062985772)

Less is . . . More

So, guess who decided to get 366 women to write one devotional blog post consisting of 200 words or fewer over a twelve month period? That would be me. And guess who still needs bloggers? That would be me. I know this can work.

Things I'm considering:

• Making up 125 fake names for myself so I can be true to the one post per day concept. (yes 125 is about how many devos short I am)
• Visiting a random church and asking 125 women who are present to whip out their pens and papers and write . . . on the spot. 
• Writing the women I've already asked to contribute to remind them. 
• Insert your idea here: _____________________

200 words or fewer. We can do this. Want to contribute?
S

(thanks theloveshop for creating this darling print, sold on etsy.)