Posts Tagged ‘Family’

22 Dec

What’s New with Me

Posted by Jennifer Clark Tinker in Uncategorized. Tagged: , , , , , , .

So much has happened in my life since I was really active here on the blog. I haven’t written a lot about my second child, but I was just re-reading some of my old posts about my struggles with infertility, and it’s worth mentioning that I have two beautiful children now. They are ages 7 and 21. I often joke that it’s natural child spacing at its quirkiest–and best. They are both precious people and I’m so glad I get to be their mom.

In other news, we had a big move earlier this year. We moved from a small town (population 250) in a rural part of Texas to a much bigger small town in the outer suburbs of San Antonio. It’s funny because I run into people who are from major cities and they think of our current suburb as a “small town,” but having come here from a tiny town, I look at our bustling suburb with wide eyes and think, “We’re in the city now!”

Suburban life is a sweet spot for me. I grew up in a suburb of Columbus, Ohio. And I loved having wide open countryside nearby while also not being far at all from the really big city. And of all the cities in Texas, San Antonio is my favorite. So, as far as I’m concerned, we could retire in this big small town we’re in right now and I’d be delighted.

Our move was prompted by my husband, David’s recent change of jobs. He is now pastoring a church out in the country near this town we call home. The setting of the church is ideal because Dave gets to pastor a rural congregation–which he is so well suited for, and we get to live in the suburbs which works well for the kids and me.

Our new church is a delightful community of people. They have welcomed all of us with such warmth. It’s been really good for my soul to be among them. I feel like I get to be more myself at this church than I have felt I could be in many previous churches.

This move in general has been really good for me. I even found a job that I love. I’m working part time at an art store that doubles as a walk-in art studio. So much of my experience in making art has come in so useful in my new role there. I’ve only been there three months, but I already feel like I’m part of really good team of co-workers and I love having so many opportunities to share the joy of creating with our customers.

I’m still toying with the idea of going back to school. But given the number of times I’ve made announcements on the blog about what I might be doing in that regard, I’m loath to update y’all on that until I actually have something concrete to report.

So that’s all the news for now.

God be with you all this Christmas and may you be blessed in the new year!

20 Mar

Creativity Beckons

Posted by Jennifer Clark Tinker in Inspiration. Tagged: , , , , , , .

Greetings, Dear Reader,

It has been literally years since I last wrote here and I’m feeling drawn back to this space. Back to writing. Back to my creative self.

Some things have changed and some have stayed the same. It would be difficult to summarize all that has happened with me, my life, my family, and…the world since I last wrote. So I won’t try to sum up all the things in their entirety in one neat little blog post.

I will tell you this: my mental health is better than ever, I have had some interesting starts and stops in my vocational journey as a minister and theologian, and I finally had that baby I had been praying for (he’ll be two years old next month). It’s quite likely that more about these matters will come out on the blog sooner or later. Time will tell.

And the world…well, I won’t elaborate on what you what you already know. These are strange times we are living in with a pandemic afoot.

What I do want to say here and now is that this is the fullness of time for my creativity. I want to go on record about this–just as I did in the beginning with my writing. I’m claiming this as my call.

I’ve been feeling the call for a while now to get back to the blog. And to get back to writing in general.

I’ve missed my creativity as I have felt somehow out of touch with it for some time now.

But especially as the world feels as if it has entered The Twilight Zone, my creativity is beckoning like never before. A writer has to write. I have to write. And I need to be creating to make sense of my experience and maybe…maybe to inspire a few people along the way too.

It’s good to be back to the blog and to respond to this prompting I feel as creativity beckons.

 

Your Turn: What’s calling to you in these strange times?

31 Jul

Cat’s Game

Posted by Jennifer Clark Tinker in Family. Tagged: , , , , .

  

Cat’s Game

An original poem by Jennifer Clark Tinker

Scratch that game

It’s a cat’s game

No one gets fame

We’re all the same

It’s a cat’s game

It’s not that we’re lame

We played a good game

But the cat got it all the same

Who invited that cat?

Can we send it back?

It’s too hard to tame

The cat that got our game

No winner is proclaimed

And the cat is to blame

Here we are stuck with another cat’s game

3 Jun

Small Children Are Whole People -or- “What do you mean, ‘and a half’?!!!”

Posted by Jennifer Clark Tinker in Community, Family. Tagged: , , , , , , , .

IMG_4653
A nearly-forgotten pet-peeve resurfaced for me the other night: It really bugs me when people talk about a baby as “half” a person!

This came up while my husband, son, and I were playing a family game. My son got a question about how many pets he would like to have. His answer was 5 1/2. Puzzled, I asked him about the “half” pet.

“Well, you know, like a little baby pet of some kind.”

And I think, or at least, I hope, I mustered a smile and an uncomfortable laugh before I gave my son my thoughts on the “half” verbiage.

I don’t think I would have thought quite so deeply about the “half a pet” explanation he gave me if, when he himself was a “little baby,” I hadn’t already thought quite a lot about how younglings are not “half” anything. When he was very young, I was keenly aware of how wholly there this tiny person was.

Back then, I always felt indignant when staff at restaurants would observe that we had “two and a half” in our party. Inside I was thinking, “What do you mean, ‘and a half’?!!!” My baby being only a fraction the size of a mature human did not mean he was only a fraction of a person!

I worked at being gracious when people referred to my son as “a half.” I didn’t want to be unkind, but I felt like I needed to say something. Quite often I used a little humor to make my point and would playfully mention that we think of him as a whole person.

On a strictly practical level, I can tell you that keeping up with the demands of an infant is no small undertaking! When sleep is scarce, showers get further apart, and conversation becomes increasingly child-related, it is clear that this small person is all there, all the time.

But on a deeper level, I’m big on the sacredness of life and part of that means that I honor and treasure the lives of even very young humans. Treating kids as whole people, respecting them as beings all their own, is really important to me.

I know that my son didn’t mean any harm by talk of half a pet, and restaurant staff don’t intend disrespect by referring to a babe in arms as “and a half.”

But how we talk about this matters. The words we use hold meaning.

It matters if we verbally discount another person (or pet, or any other living being). Even if that person is very tiny, that person is worthy of our full respect.

In fact, I would go further to say that especially if another person is tiny, or vulnerable in any way, the onus is on us to make sure that we honor the agency and dignity of that one.

So, I tried to explain some of this to my son. And I tried to do it light-heartedly enough, because it was game night, after all. I didn’t want to make it too heavy, but I do hope it gave my son something to think about.

If nothing else, my son got to hear about how his mom defended his honor when he was too young to do it himself. And I think, or at least, I hope, that matters.

1 Jun

When it Rains it Floods…and Makes Lightening

Posted by Jennifer Clark Tinker in Brokenness, Inspiration. Tagged: , , , , , , , , , .

 

Scripture doodle art by Jennifer Clark Tinker

Scripture doodle art by Jennifer Clark Tinker

Living in Texas has had its ups and downs for me. I’ve had the joy of getting better acquainted with my in-laws, and the honor of being with my mother-in-law in her dying days. I’ve enjoyed spending time outdoors more days out of the year. But I’ve also had the worry of drought, and the terror of lightening striking my house.

Lately we’ve had massive rains and severe flooding near us and my worry and terror leftover from past calamities have crept back up on me.

We were in Houston the other night with flash-flood warnings blaring from smart phones all night. The power at my father-in-law’s house went way down low–I guess you call it a brown-out–but it never went out completely. It was an eery and restless night.

The next morning, interstates and schools were closed all over the metropolis. I was supposed to go to a conference, but I was prevented from making the trip.

We were able to return home safely, and sleep in our own beds the next night. But more rains came that night too. And there were more flash-flood warnings. And there was lightening–violent outbursts of shocking, white light filling the sky, penetrating the darkness of my bedroom.

The lightening that Tuesday night took me back to that night of the lightening striking my house. My breath felt shallow, my heart was in panic mode. I got out of bed–sleep was not even an option at that point–and tried to outsmart the flashes interrupting the darkness by lighting a candle, and I sang and played on my ukulele until the sun showed up Wednesday morning.

The next few days remained edgy for me. The next couple of nights I defied the wet of rains and floods by lighting a fire in my backyard. This was my own little way of trying to take back some measure of control over elements that are actually far beyond my reach.

Saturday came and I needed to pull myself together to prepare a sermon. I had read and re-read the Gospel appointed for Sunday, and had given some thought to my message. But I needed to get to it for real, so I sat down and read all four of the scriptures that were appointed.

[Sidebar: The Lutheran tradition of which I am a part generally uses a 3-year cycle of scripture readings called the Revised Common Lectionary. Each Sunday has four readings appointed; ordinarily these include an Old Testament reading, a Psalm, a New Testament epistle (or letter), and a New Testament Gospel.]

And I tell you, I know that no cycle of readings can be perfect, but I am so grateful for the tradition of having a lectionary. It helps tremendously to stretch me to read parts of the Bible that I might otherwise overlook. I mean, favorites are favorites for a reason and worth reading and re-reading, so that’s often what I do when I approach scripture on my own.

But Saturday was a shining example of  how my faith, my life, are enhanced by having a lectionary. I would not have happened upon Psalm 29 by chance. But it was appointed for this past Sunday. And the words of that Psalm washed over me with peace and comfort.

Here are some nuggets:

“The voice of the Lord is over the waters; the God of glory thunders, the Lord, over mighty waters. The voice of the Lord is powerful; the voice of the Lord is full of majesty.” –Psalm 29:3-4

“The voice of the Lord flashes forth flames of fire.” –Psalm 29:7

“The Lord sits enthroned over the flood; the Lord sits enthroned as king forever. May the Lord give strength to his people! May the Lord bless his people with peace!” –Psalm 29:10-11

These words spoke to me in my uneasiness about the weather. For all of the out-of-control I feel, God is bigger yet than those flashes of flooding and of lightening. And I laugh at myself trying to defy the elements, lighting my candles and fires, for God is even above my vanity, my folly, my fires.

I don’t know exactly what it means that God is above all these things. I shudder when some attribute vengeance to God, suggesting that God sent floods to discipline God’s created people. I don’t perceive God as working that way.

For me comfort comes from knowing that God is steadfast. God is not shaken by even the most aggressive tempests. God’s love is a constant on which I can rely–rain or shine.

I am in awe of the work of brothers and sisters in the faith who have woven together lectionaries. I am thankful for this Psalm that spoke to me in the middle of the rain. And I am relaxing into the peace that comes from knowing that God is enthroned over the floods and lightening.

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