I am a member of the presbytery’s committee on ministry, and the other night I took part in a clearance interview for a candidate who has been called to an associate pastor position. Our job was to interview the church committee who called her (called the APNC), the pastor with whom she will work, and the candidate herself, to make sure it’s a good fit and help identify any potential issues to look out for as they all negotiate this new relationship together. The evening went well and it seems a wonderful match.

The next step is for the APNC to send the entire congregation some basic information about the candidate and invite them to a congregational meeting to get to know her and to vote on the call; this meeting will happen in about two weeks. About a week or so after that, she will be examined for ordination by the entire presbytery (about 200+ people, including elders and pastors from all the local churches). At that point, all the steps will be completed and she will be ordained and installed as associate pastor.

As I drove home after the meeting, I thought, What a nice way for that process to work—with some breathing room between the different steps—not the crazy way I did it.

But the crazy way was the only way it was going to happen in my case.

For me, it went down like this:

On a Wednesday and Thursday in March 2003, R and I drove from seminary to Suburban Community, a journey of about 650 miles.

We arrived about 2 p.m. Thursday, and I saw for the first time the church where I would be working.

My clearance interview was 7 p.m. Thursday night.

On the way home from the clearance interview, after the committee on ministry gave us the OK to proceed, my APNC stopped by the Suburban Post Office to drop off letters introducing me to the congregation, so most Suburb residents would receive them before the congregational meeting, which was three days later on Sunday.

Saturday night I attended the wedding of a friend of mine who happens to live in this area.

Sunday was the congregational meeting.

Tuesday I went before the floor of presbytery to be examined for ordination.

Wednesday, on our way out of town, we put an offer on a house.

Thursday we arrived home.

And when I say “we,” I mean me, R, and a six-week-old infant.


It was wild, but there was no way I was going to make multiple trips here with a wee babe. It had to be all at once. It was truly providential that the wedding and the presbytery meeting were scheduled as they were, and that the clearance interview and congregational meeting could be arranged accordingly.

I remember the trip from the Suburbs to the clearance interview downtown. The APNC had asked whether we wanted to carpool, but we declined. We blamed the logistics of getting the carseat in and out of someone else’s car; I also needed the time to get my game face on. But in reality, we needed to drive by ourselves because I knew C would need a bottle around the time I was in the interview, and we were committed Breastmilk Zealots in those days. And so I hooked myself up to a breastpump as R inched us through rush hour traffic on the Capital Beltway, and I even managed not to drip on my interview clothes—a dowdy maternity blouse and elastic-waist skirt, because what else could I wear?

I also remember walking into the presbytery office with a briefcase in one hand and an infant carrier in the other. By itself, the infant carrier is heavy and bulky; it’s an awkward thing to carry. With a briefcase slung over the other shoulder, I was weighed down, but balanced. And I laughed to myself, “This is what a minister-mom looks like.”

I don’t hear the voice of the Spirit much, and when I do, it is rarely the solemn, ethereal voice from Field of Dreams: If you build it, he will come. Rather it’s a voice that sounds like mine, but that doesn’t originate from me; it’s usually pretty no-nonsense, sometimes a little sassy even. That night, as the wind shook that afternoon’s rainwater out of the trees that lined the sidewalk to presbytery office, a voice chuckled down on me with the cold droplets: “reverendmother!”

Reverendmother—born and named in one moment, and baptized in the name of the Creator, Redeemer and Spirit of Life—one God, Father and Mother of us all.

part II