We're Pregnant!

For the past five weeks or so, Matt and I have been the most boring people ever. (And not just because I've been curling up on the couch the moment I get home from work every night and staying there, in and out of sleep, all evening.) No, it's because whenever people ask us a friendly "How's it going?" or "What's new?" we are forced to say, "Oh, not much. Same-old, same-old." Why? Because the big, neon answer in the forefront of our minds was not yet able to be shared!!

"Oh, not much new here... just a human growing inside me that is going to turn our whole world upside-down!!"

That's also why I haven't posted much recently. What can I say of any interest or importance right now?? Now that we're in our third month, though, and have seen our little bundle of joy on screen, we're spreading the news--there's going to be a Parsonage Family Baby!

We don't know much about Baby Fetus (doesn't have the nice ring Baby Blastocyst and Baby Embryo had... we need a new nickname) but s/he is a couple centimeters long, has a nice heartbeat, two hemispheres to the brain, and cute little mini-limbs. S/he really likes grapefruit juice (if my experience thus far is any indication) and appears to have a tiny bagel with cream cheese already close at hand. (We think that round thing at its feet is actually the cord.)

We shared the news with the grandparents-to-be last weekend at a father's day cookout, and have told work and church people this past week. We've been asked all the normal questions, which I'll answer here for you, since if you care enough to read this blog, you might be interested in knowing too.

When are you due? January 23, 2009. We're hoping for Inauguration Day (the 20th), since that would be a fun claim-to-fame for our kid to have (assuming this election goes as we hope!) and it would give us something interesting to watch on TV while we're sitting around, waiting to dilate. Matt was born during the season premiere of Dallas when everyone found out who shot J.R. Anyway, this means we're ten weeks along, getting close to the end of the first trimester.

How are you feeling? Pretty sick and tired, recently. I was fine until week 6 or 7, but the nausea and fatigue have been pretty frustrating for these last couple weeks. Supposedly, that ends by the end of the first trimester for most people, so we'll see. Emotionally, we're starting to move from excitement to the "holy crap" phase, but we're still excited too.

Do you plan to keep working? Yes. I gave my bosses a detailed plan for how I will keep all those plates-on-sticks spinning through maternity leave and beyond. I think they were impressed, though they chuckled a bit at my thoroughness. I've always been a bit of a planning dork.

Are you hoping for a boy or a girl? Matt really wants a boy. I really want a girl. Obviously, both of us really just want a healthy baby, but there is a level of competitiveness about the issue that makes us even more entrenched in our preferences! Matt's brother, the family gambler, has set up a webpage where people can vote their prediction. (Practically everyone I know who has had a baby in the last year and a half has had a boy. I'm hoping the law of random distribution means our corner of the world is due for a girl.) One typically finds out via ultrasound at 20 weeks (early September, for us), but believe it or not, there is actually an over-the-counter urine-based gender test you can do at home at 10 weeks. We're going to wait another week or two, just for good measure, but that will be pretty exciting!

We'll keep you posted!

From Anonymity to Accountability

I'm editing a book right now called God-Size Your Church: Beyond Growth for Growth's Sake, by John Jackson, pastor of Carson Valley Christian Center in Nevada. (It's in Minden, NV, near Carson City. I wish it were near Las Vegas, because I think it would be awesome to do a book called "The Church in Sin City.")

Jackson talks about the importance of providing a spectrum of involvement that allows people to move from newbie status to core member at their own pace and comfort level. True to his Baptist background, the four primary stages have a lovely alliteration: Anonymity, Affinity, Authenticity, and Accountability. I totally agree with these stages.

• Anonymity. As evidenced in my "Playing Hooky" post a couple weeks ago, even people well-ensconced in a church sometimes feel the need to worship anonymously. That is all the more true for people unfamilar with the church, its practices, and its people. They need to get acclimated while feeling welcomed but not pressured to "sign their life away" too quickly.
• Affinity. Most churchgoers in America have no idea what makes their denomination different from any other, or what their church believes about every tiny point of doctrine. People become part of a church because they feel they connect to that congregation on a personal level. They have something in common with others there, and find classes or activities where they can explore common interests.
• Authenticity. This is the lynch pin when it comes to increasing commitment to the church. Answering questions like "Are you who you seem to be?" and "Can I be myself here?" pave the way for a person's desire to be a full participant in the life and ministry of the church.
• Accountability. This is the stage where people really commit to give of themselves in ministry, serving regularly and participating fully, rather than simply consuming of the church's ministries.

While this kind of "accountable" involvement and commitment may be the goal for any person growing in faith, the church will never, and arguably should never, consist solely of these people. Mark Beeson, pastor of Granger Community Church in northern Indiana, wrote a great blog post on that subject a couple months ago. Quite the outdoorsman, his thoughts on spirituality and ministry are often inspired by nature. In this entry, he talked about a wild turkey he saw, with a really long, red beard and very full set of feathers, all fanned out. (We see these guys all the time in our yard right now--very cool.) He said how he immediately realized that this turkey was a mature male, ready to mate, and commented how pretty soon there would be a bunch of immature, baby turkeys running around. He then pointed out how the church should be the same way: wherever there are mature Christians, there will be young, new Christians as well, because the more committed people of faith will attract and reach out to those who are searching. A group of mature animals or people who do not have immature ones around them... are old and dying.

Many churches today seem to exist only to sustain themselves. They stay open even when there are only a handful of members left, just because those people don't want to go to a different church. Their programs are more like a community center than a house of worship and a home-base for ministry to others. Embracing all stages of involvement in the church does not mean you are condoning "consumer Christianity" or that you don't care about discipleship--it means that you are outward-focused, that (like the United Methodist mission statement says) you are "making disciples of Jesus Christ for the transformation of the world," not for the perpetuation of an institution.

Practical Joke Sunday

I had a wide range of emotions in church yesterday--I screamed, I cried, I laughed. The crying was due to the reading of Shel Silverstein's The Giving Tree in the children's sermon. I know it's supposed to be sweet, and the tree is "happy, very happy" in the end, but I find it to be the saddest story ever. The screaming and the laughing, however, were due to a couple practical jokes before and during the service--one at my expense, the other perpetrated by Matt and I.

As Matt and I drove into the church's gravel parking lot, Matt noticed a snake stretched across the drive, and he thought he ran over it, which made me happy (I don't condone killing any living thing, except snakes--even bugs I usually let live) but after we parked, we took a look--me from a greater distance than Matt--and it had apparently coiled up really quickly and avoided being killed. Matt expressed curiosity at what kind of snake it might be--two inches in diameter, light brown--but I just got inside as quickly as I could.

A minute or two later, I've settled in at the Sunday school table with my coffee and fruit (and small piece of coffee cake). My back was to the door of the room, and suddenly I feel pressure on the back of my neck, and a high school boy whose voice I recognize says "Jessica, do you know what kind of snake this is?" I screamed bloody murder, of course, smacking at the back of my neck. The boy, his buddy, and the dear, righteous pastor--who of course had put them up to it--got a good laugh out of it, though most of the women in the room totally sympathized with me. Though it was just the kid's hand, not the actual snake (I would hope that goes without saying, since that would be FAR beyond a joke) I was nearly in tears from the shock. The two boys now tease me whenever they see me. Fabulous.

After worship started and after I dried up from the Giving Tree incident, I had my own joke to play. Matt has been teasing one young adult girl in the congregation about her frequent text-messaging during worship, obviously enough that he can see it from the pulpit, and finally we decided we should send her a message--literally. On Matt's phone, before the service, we typed "I can see you." and kept it ready to send until the proper time. I had the phone with me in the pew, and about five minutes into Matt's sermon--after I'd noticed the girl's head bent downward a few times--I pressed send. I tried to contain my giggles, revealing only a smirk that would have made Matt start laughing if we'd made eye contact at that point.

A couple minutes later, I received a message back, asking "Is this Jesus?"

OMG. We'll see next week if her habits change, now that Jesus--or at least the pastor and his wife--are watching her.

Playing Hooky

I played hooky from our church last Sunday.

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Whether it's reasonable or not, I have lots of issues with this pastor's wife concept (that I totally saw through rose colored glasses before we were married). I have issues that I don't get to choose where I worship, (or where I live, but that's a whole other issue) and that I can't just be a "normal" congregant (a divinity school education generally screws up one's possibilities of being a normal congregant anyway, but again, that's a whole other issue). No matter how much my involvement matches other congregants' on paper, there will always be something different about me, and that is that I come and go with the pastor.

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I am not a permanent fixture in this church. I did not start attending at the invitation of a friend or because of a flyer in the mail. I did not attend for months or years before deciding to become a member--I joined somewhat by default on my very first Sunday there. This feels especially odd in retrospect (enough that I may think twice about joining right away at our next church) because Matt is not a member of this church. Pastors in the UMC are members of their conference, not the local congregation, further enhancing the bizarre limbo status of the pastor's spouse as "in but not of" the congregation. I am a member and go to Sunday school and sit in the pews like other congregants, but I am "in bed" with the pastor--figuratively and literally--and know the inner workings of the church, the struggles of its people, and the thoughts and dreams of my husband that his parishioners do not know. I am reminded that he and I are a separate entity from the congregation, and that we are something of a commodity, one day moving on to be in but not of a different congregation.

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I didn't intend to share all that, but I'm glad I did. It's rare that I can talk about it calmly and rationally. I didn't play hooky out of anger or anything last weekend, though. It was the church retreat, and about a quarter of the usual Sunday attendance was gone on that. Matt went for one of the two nights, coming back Saturday night so he could lead worship on Sunday. It seemed the perfect opportunity to inconspicuously take a Sunday off--those on the retreat would think I was at church, and those at church would think I was on the retreat.

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Before I sound too snarky and irreverent here, though, let me clarify that I didn't just lay around in my jammies and watch Meet the Press. I went to an Episcopal church instead. This is actually the story I intended to tell in this post. It happened to be baptism and confirmation Sunday, which worried me at first, remembering a time I almost passed out from standing too long during a marathon baptism at my Episcopal church in college. These didn't drag on too long, though, and I was reminded of a great realization I had several years ago, during the college and post-college church-hopping phase so many people experience (if they go to church at all during those years, that is).

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As I bounced around to various Baptist, non-denom, Episcopal, Disciples, and yes, even a couple Methodist churches across Kentucky, South Carolina, North Carolina, and Tennessee, I witnessed A LOT of baptisms and baby dedications. I just had a knack for being there when these things happened, even at churches I visited only once. In many of the churches, the congregation vows to help nurture the person in the Christian faith, and though I rarely knew the people being baptised, I repeated this vow as well. At first, it was rote, simply because that was what those in attendance were to do. After a while, though, I began to see these experiences in an "angels unawares" sort of way--wherever I go, there is some small chance that any person I meet could be one of those people I vowed to support in the faith.

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What might this mean? In the words of the Apostle Paul, it could mean not placing a "stumbling block" in front of others that would somehow rock their faith. In the words of my most admired college professor, if might mean working for a world in which it is "easier to be good." (The idea being that the more we bring the kindgom of God to earth, the more natural it will feel to be righteous.) Any other ideas, feel free to comment with them.

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I left the Episcopal service liking our own church not more or less, but with a renewed appreciation of the church at large and our role within it. I may only be "in" our local congregation, but I am "of" Christ's church, no matter what.

Bourbon, Brides, and Boats

Okay, there was just one bride and one boat. Anyway, the first two Saturdays in May have been lots of fun.

The first Saturday in May... (I shouldn't even have to explain the significance of that day, but I will, since not everyone reading had the good fortune to be born and raised in Louisville)... was Derby Day. I've only attended the great race in person once, but it is nonetheless a special day every year--an incredible cultural event, in addition to being the greatest two minutes in sports. In Louisville, kids get out of school on Oaks Day (the day before the Derby), and the whole city is enveloped in red roses, mint juleps, horse paraphernalia, and general festivity for the two weeks preceding.

Every year since graduating high school, I've thought about getting a group together to go, but such a road trip has never materialized. I've had Derby parties a couple times--the most successful being my senior year of college--and I tried to do the same this year. Unfortunately, I wasn't really on the ball (May kind of crept up on me--April was very busy) and didn't get around to inviting people until the day before, and no one could make it. Matt and I still grilled out, though, and had a great day of fun and relaxation. I made mint juleps, which are notoriously yucky (just bourbon, sugar, water, and mint), but you have to drink them on Derby Day; it's like a law... well, a tradition, anyway.

Charlotte was intrigued by the little stuffed horse that neighs when you squeeze its haunches.

Yesterday, the second Saturday in May, we were in Louisville for my second cousin's wedding. It was a lovely little affair at the picturesque Duncan Memorial Chapel, with reception on a boat that cruised up the Ohio while we enjoyed a nice dinner, cake, and mingling with family and friends.

Speaking of family and friends, we discovered what a small world it is when Matt and the girl sitting behind us in the chapel recognized each other! They went to college together at Butler Univ., graduating the same year and interacting a lot in greek events throughout their four years in Indy. Turns out, her husband is the stepson of my Dad's cousin (the bride's aunt). Cool. Small world even smaller, my dad had met the girl under totally separate circumstances when he was working with the Ky. commerce cabinet. Recognizing her unusual last name, he had made the family connection, but of course had no idea she knew Matt.

Here's me with the bride, and a few other pics of the wedding and dinner cruise.

My Two Angels

These are my two angels. They bring immense joy to my heart. They are two of God's greatest blessings in my life and I am thankful everyday for the love and laughter they bring.

Husband Trivia

Saw this on my freshman-year college roommate's blog and thought it would be fun...

Where did you meet? At a salad supper the first night of Divinity School orientation at Vanderbilt, August 24, 2003.
What first attracted you to him? He was sooooo obviously attracted to me! I was flattered by that, and then, over the next week or so, was just blown away by all we had in common.

How long did you date? We dated for about six weeks when we first met, then stopped dating for about 4-5 months, in which time we became best friends. When we got engaged, we'd known each other for about two years and two months, and had been "officially" dating for about a year and eight months.

Who eats more? Definitely me. I wolf down my dinner before he's taken two bites, and he rarely cleans his plate.
Who said “I love you” first? I did, but he was literally just about to say it too. His response was, "Damn, you beat me to it! I love you too." We were in his car, driving down 3rd Street after leaving the Div School Gala, March 20, 2004.
Where was your first date? The Opryland Hotel, Ristorante Volare. We had to wait a while for our table, during which time we sat on a bench near a gazebo and talked. I say it was during that bench-conversation that I really fell for him.
Who is taller? If we're both barefooted, he might be a tiny bit taller. I like heels, though. I take off my shoes and bend my knees for pictures.
Who sings better? Eh... we're both a little above average, I guess. We're no American Idols, but it won't hurt your ears, either.
Who is smarter? We're both pretty smart. I had a higher GPA in both college and grad school, but he got a full ride to Vandy and I only got 90%. He likes to throw that in my face. Really, I'm better with logical things, like puzzles and other things that show up on IQ tests, and wordy things, like spelling and pronunciation, whereas he's more abstract and philosophical.
Whose temper is worse? Definitely mine. I'm tempted to elaborate, but I'd rather not share the gory details.
Who sleeps on the right side of the bed? I do. I'm trying to assess a rhyme or reason to that, based on other rooms I've slept in. I think I try to sleep on the side furthest from the door (safer from home intruders?) unless the bed is right against the wall, in which case, I'll sleep on the outside (easier to escape in case of fire?) Hmm...who's the neurotic and paranoid one? Me!
Who pays the bills? I do. I'm more the planner, so I think about things like, "okay, we get paid these days, so we should pay the credit card bill this day..." and so on.
Who cooks dinner? We share the cooking duties. Matt cooks a lot, since he has a more flexible schedule and often likes to get the meal started before I get home. We enjoy cooking together sometimes too--especially Italian, our favorite!
Who drives when you are together? Usually Matt, but since I got my new car, I like to!
Who is more stubborn? That's a tough one. We're both pretty hardheaded.
Who kissed who first? It was pretty much your traditional eye-contact, move toward each other thing...pretty mutual. He apparently wanted to at the end of our first date, though, and chickened out, whereas I had no intention of kissing that night! (We kissed the next night, though, after sushi.)
Who is the first to admit when they are wrong? Wow--Jen's making me feel so bad, as I go in and replace her answers with mine. She's such a saint. As I said, Matt and I are both pretty hardheaded, but we'll say "I'm sorry" the next morning, at the very latest.
Whose parents do you see the most? Matt's, since they are also in the Nashville area. It's still not that often, though. I'd say we see his parents once a month and mine every other month. (Not often enough :0(
Who proposed? "Mr. Eloquent" did :0)
Who is more sensitive? Me, though I'm getting more cynical in my old age...
What's his best physical attribute? His cute little butt is the first thing to come to mind, but I like his crystal clear eyes too (pale blue or green, depending on his shirt), and his manly facial hair.
Who has more friends? Him. That's partially because he counts as a friend anyone he hangs out with at a party, went to school with four years ago, or met one time at a conference. I, on the other hand, only really consider friends those people I talk with on the phone regularly, hang out with regularly, would travel several hours to go see, and/or would have a real heart-to-heart with. So, fewer people make the cut, you know?
For what are you most proud of him? His preaching, and his ever-loving heart. He always sees the best in people, and does a much more faithful job than I of really living out his ideals. He rarely lets selfish or petty feelings and biases get in the way of what he knows is right, as I so often do.
What is something special your husband recently did for you? He came with me to Target on Saturday, then rode rides with me at a little fair set up in the mall parking lot, bought me a book I wanted at Borders (so what if it's a joint bank account, it's still sweet) and took me to a movie. We had a blast!

I love you, sweetie!