David S. McLeod,
The University of Kansas,
Undergraduate Biology Program

[May 6, 2012]–

I have had the pleasure of spending this semester in Hamburg, Germany on a sabbatical research fellowship. It has been a wonderful time of learning, exploration, and discovery.

Living only a short distance from my host university my daily walk to work takes me past a most unusual storefront. It is a ceramics repair shop where I have watched the artists repairing peoples’ broken treasures. The shop is littered with vases, sculptures, plates, and other objects of varied description with one thing in common: they are broken, chipped, cracked, and flawed. One piece, however, has really caught my eye.

Ready for the Trash Bin

In the window of the shop is a white porcelain vase. Nearly all the pieces are there, although the vase is completely broken. I imagine it tumbling from a mantle or slipping through wet fingers, crashing to the floor. Some would have swept up the many pieces and thrown them away, but this was obviously someone’s treasure. Rather than discard it, they picked up the pieces and held them together with small bandages.

As I walk past the window each day it reminds me that I too am broken. My colleagues, my students, my family—we are all broken. We are all worthy of the trash bin, but Someone cares enough about us that He wants to save us from this fate and restore us completely.

Not a DIY Project

We are inclined to try to “fix” ourselves. Our attempts, however, are less than satisfactory and often we end up held precariously together with what amounts to band-aids, tape, and sloppy glue jobs. Like the vase in the window, we’re probably even missing a piece or two when we finish our self-fix. What we need is One who can put us back together perfectly, seamlessly, better than new.

We know that God, who saved us from the trash bin, is the only one capable of really putting us back together. He is more than the artist who can fix us. He created us and thus, He alone can heal and restore to the fullness of the treasure He intended us to be.

If that vase were mine, sitting again on the mantle at home, I’d be sure to tell people about the one who fixed it. Valuing the vase enough to save it, I’m certain I’d be inclined to share its story with anyone who paused long enough to hear me. Since we’re all broken and we all need to be repaired, shouldn’t we . . . shouldn’t I . . . be telling anyone and everyone about the One who can heal and restore?

Restoration

I’m reminded of 1 Cor. 4:7 “But we have this treasure in jars of clay, to show that the surpassing power belongs to God and not to us.” Isn’t it amazing that God would fill us, fragile earthen vessels, with the Holy Spirit and the good news of the Gospel of Christ?

Therein lies our only hope for restoration. Christ — a willing, broken vessel. Broken for us and then wholly restored by the same God that offers to do the same for us.

(c) 2012 David McLeod
photo (c) David S. McLeod

Heather Holleman,
English,
Penn State University

[April 29,2012]–

I heard a story recently about horses that I think about every day now. It’s changing how I think about my calling not just as a faculty member, but as a wife, mother, and neighbor. In light of the Sandusky sex-abuse scandal at Penn State and the subsequent firing of Joe Paterno, our community suffered. I learned about the behavior of these horses at a seminar training those willing to help members of our community who are suffering from abuse. Since then I began to apply it broadly to all of my relationships.

A psychologist shared that she grew up on a farm, and she noticed something incredible about her horses during a barn fire. When a fire occurred, all of the animals would run free from the barn and not return except the horses. The horses would go back into the burning barn, to the perceived safety of their stalls.

Unless they were tethered.

Only if tethered would the horses, having been rescued from the burning barn, not return. The psychologist made the point that as we begin to attempt to set ourselves free from dangerous or toxic situations in our lives, we sometimes go back to the burning barn. We find safety in the familiar. Over and over again, we might return to what’s not good for us.

Unless we are tethered.

My faculty neighbors and I now claim we are “tethered horses.” Together we can change our lives and not return to dark places. As we heal, we stay tethered.

To tether means to restrict, and it seems restrictive indeed. Yet when viewed in light of my own freedom, I have chosen to tether myself to Jesus Christ, in whom we have a hope spoken of in Hebrews 6:18-20 as “an anchor for the soul, firm and secure.” Having that stability I also choose to join the women in my community for accountability. We’re running from a burning barn out into a glorious pasture, but only when we are tethered.

Normally, I think about the stereotypically distant and reclusive professor who hides in an office, tethered more to books and papers than anything else. But I’m choosing to break the stereotype. I’m coming into the hall, into the classroom, and into the neighborhood. There I’m finding folks who need help running from the burning barn. I ask God to give me opportunities to share that tethered to Jesus Christ they too can find true freedom.
© 2012 Heather Holleman
photos©istockphoto

Jay Lorenzen,
Political Science, retired,
Air Force Academy

[April 22]–

Laurie and I needed help. You’d think we would have figured this marriage thing out. It had been almost 30 years since we said ‘I do.’

We have four great kids, several grandkids on the way and a deep desire to walk with God. But we had grown lazy. The upstream pursuit of an academic career seemed to require all the energy I had.

We know the drill: research, publication, teaching, departmental recognition, and tenure. Those upstream destinations became the most important pursuits. Wisdom dulled. While we were working upstream, the river of years was carrying us downstream to a port where an “ok” marriage seemed all we could hope for. We needed help.

Timothy and Kathy Keller’s book, The Meaning of Marriage, put some perspective back for us. It began to re-hone wisdom. And to resist the passing current, it put marriage oars into our hands.

Hard But Glorious

First, marriage is “hard, but it’s also glorious. God intends marriage to be an adventure worth the blood, sweat, and tears.” And no adventure just happens. Laurie and I couldn’t take our marriage for granted; floating lazily downstream doesn’t work.

You have to work at marriage. When you do, the Kellers reminded us, God works through the humbling defeats and the exhausting victories to get a marriage to mysteriously display His glory and His Kingdom to the world. As Christ-followers, we realized again that our lives individually and together in marriage have one ultimate pursuit—the loving rule and reign of King Jesus

A Powerful Thing

Second, perspective is a powerful thing. Often those upstream ports for which I was striving were destinations to receive the glory and plant the flag of my small kingdom.

I’ll never escape the clash of kingdoms. My small claustrophobic kingdom of self constantly wars against the big sky Kingdom of God. Recognizing that kingdom clash within me enables me to see my academic career more clearly—indeed all of life more clearly. If I reach the port of academic glory only to find my marriage existing at the downstream port of “ok,” I’ve robbed a central life partnership from reflecting the image of God to the world. For me, taking the oars of marriage and family in hand meant making tough, career-shaping decisions.

Best Friend

Third, in reading Keller’s book, Laurie and I discovered one particular point that we wished we’d seen more clearly.

When God brought the first man his spouse, he brought him not just a lover but the friend his heart had been seeking . . . The very best human friendship possible for that adventure of becoming our true-selves (the person we were created to be) is with the lover-friend who is your spouse.*

When our spouse becomes not just lover and financial partner but our best friend, we move toward adventure and fulfillment–a journey where we help each other become our glory-selves, the new creations that God will eventually perfect.

Parker Palmer once described teaching as the “pursuit of truth in the company of friends.” Laurie and I are (re)discovering that marriage can be the “pursuit of life and adventure in the company of a best friend.” If we’d known it earlier, the years of floating downstream might have been fewer. We’re thankful now to take the oars in hand and work upstream toward both a better and more fulfilling marriage.
(c) 2012 Jay Lorenzen

Dusty Wilson,
Mathematics,
Highline Community College

[April 15, 2012] –

Do you ever feel isolated as a follower of Jesus on a college campus? The Ministry Minutes resonate with the challenges faced by faculty and staff. My co-workers frequently say, “That is just what I needed to hear today.” And, “It is good to remember that I am not alone.” I am thankful that we are taking steps to build and encourage our community of faith on our own campus.

However, we are but one community, and it is clear that we only represent a part of the Body of Christ. What if we could multiply the encouragement we find as academics by sharing it with our friends faithfully serving at other institutions? But how? Our schedules are filled to the point that coffee with a close friend must be planned well in advance!

Answered Prayer

With that in mind, my prayer for a recent regional professional conference was that I would meet believers who might be encouraged to join our community. After all, our vision is broad. We desire (1.) to be a community of thinking Christians and (2.) that everyone could identify someone on their campus who follows Jesus.

My specific prayer provided more courage than I might normally have and I quickly connected with three professors that I knew were Christ followers. Surprisingly, there were two other conversations that seemed a bit less likely.

Connecting

The first exchange in reality began a couple of years prior at a national conference in D.C. where I made friends with a professor from California. We were in similar places in life(family, career, faith, etc.). Since then, we corresponded once or twice, but imagine my delight to see his name in the program for a NW regional conference! I checked the name against his business card which had been in my wallet for two years. Hours later, we were able to connect and encourage each other to continue to run the race with endurance.

The second vignette took place over a dessert. I was in line when a friend came up chatting with a faculty member from another university. It quickly became apparent that he was also a believer. Asking if he was a member of any group of believing faculty, I was pleased to learn he meets weekly with four other department members! How sweet to remember that it doesn’t take a building or formal network to have fellowship of community!

With that vision in mind, let’s look beyond ourselves and our needs. Reach out to the believing undergrads and graduate students where you are. Consider including believing staff in your fellowship. And look for ways to reach beyond your institution through your personal and professional connections.
(c) 2012 Dusty Wilson

Have you tried connecting at  www.facultylinc.com?