Pancake pie and life

This time of year is always difficult for me. I love fall. Pumpkins, cool mornings, boot season. At the same time, the changes in seasons often mean some mania that manifests, making sleep elusive. It is helpful to be self aware enough to know it is temporary. Annoying, but not dangerous. In case you were wondering, 4am looks the same as 8am. Only dark and a little quieter.
  Today, when I awoke for the day, I decided to try a recipe I found in the back of one of my Weight Watchers weeklies.

(Side note so I don't get fired: most things I've tried in the recipe section are delicious and I recommend giving them a try.)


Apple cinnamon oven pancakes. Simple right? Pie plate: check. Apples: check. delicious smell of vanilla, sugar, flour and eggs baking at 400: check. I remove this pie-like creation from the oven 25 minutes later. Risen and golden brown... pieces of apple gently peaking out through what appears to be a flaky crust. Score! I make the coffee and my partner (who was up with me at 4:30 bless his heart) comes down to wonderful aromas of a fall breakfast. I'm feeling like Betty freakin Crocker and excited to share my creation which has slowly deflated a bit as it cooled. I slice the pieces, elated at my treat and remove two triangles. I enthusiastically take a bite and am immediately reminded of the Friends episode when Rachel puts peas, beef, and sautéed onions in her English trifle. Why does my apple cinnamon pancake taste like bacon? My beautifully flaky and light creation is gooey and has the consistency of jello with bits of apple floating delicately on the top. Mocking me. I feel as deflated as my gross apple cinnamon disaster. I used the good eggs for that! 3 of them! Do you know how expensive eggs are?

(Side note: eggs are not as expensive if you do not have a soft spot for chickens who are mistreated and therefor spend the extra $2 that you don't really have to buy from the ones that say they are popped out by happy grass fed, free range, emotionally stable and beloved chickens.)

My beloved grabbed the Thomas' english muffins and made us peanut butter toast as a consolation. Encouraging me not to give up on cooking. Even though we both know I shouldn't make anything that isn't soup. Soup is my specialty. By specialty I mean the only thing that makes people say "that was great" who aren't just being nice to make me feel better.

 I do not have a career as a chef. That's okay. Though my future career has been on my mind lately. (Nice segue huh?) Last January when my beloved graduate program closed, I took it as a sign and immediately enrolled in seminary. In August I took my first chaplaincy class. "Death, dying and bereavement" which may sound like a punishment, but I was stoked to be attending. Each day for two weeks I went to class with a fun and knowledgable professor and classmates I enjoyed. Though something was missing.
 I realized as I took this class, that my outlook is still largely clinical. Our final paper requirements were to write "anything we wanted on death" and I took that to be an invitation to write on Persistent Grief and the various therapeutic techniques for it. Realizing that should I encounter such a thing, I would be required to refer my client to someone qualified for that.

 I'm not sure what made me google search pastoral counseling schools. I had done that last January and come up with nothing but Christian counseling programs (not the same). This time, Neumann University popped up in my search. I took a leap, and emailed the program director who informed me that she is a graduate of the Loyola program I had loved so much, and she would be happy to meet with me regarding their program. Feeling as if I am cheating on my current academic establishment, I took the 2 hour drive, official transcripts in hand and professional attire adorned and had what turned out to be an entrance interview. They would accept all of my Loyola credits (Wesley took 9 of my 33) and even some of my Wesley credits. Their program is very similar to Loyola's with more than one professor being a graduate from there. Neumann is a Franciscan institution (catholic) so as I finished speaking with Sister Susan, I asked her how they felt about LGBTQ issues and individuals. "at Neumann we align with Saint Francis of Assisi that 'All individuals have value and worth'" I told her that Quakers believe "there is that of God in everyone" and we agreed that is basically the same thing.

(Kudos to you if you're still with me at this point.)

 I've been torn as to whether I would share this publicly. I feel a bit sheepish for lack of a better term about turning directions again. But, I think I needed to study for awhile with Wesley to realize for sure where I am meant to be. I love theology. Its fascinating. I wrote one of my favorite professors this morning and explained it to him this way: "“Dr. W last week said 'The world is in desperate need to be presented with the word of God in a way that they can hear it.' I believe that is true, and that Wesley does a fantastic job at guiding the individuals who’s calling it is to do that. After much consideration, I believe my calling is to hold a sacred space for the pain they carry so that they may be able to hear those messages in a way that speaks to their heart and know they are not alone."

In closing, I am not a chef, that is for certain. My tools and gifts lay elsewhere. in art, empathy, and compassion. And apparently unconventional educational tracks that somehow always land me where I'm meant to go.