Lucky Number Seven

Yup, seven years ago today Carrie's friends went from "What are you thinking?" to "What were you thinking?"
And after all these years, one thing is true

mmmm cake

And that is that as great as our wedding was, this would have made it cooler:

To many more... thank you for your patient love.

Happy Father's Day

To celebrate my first, I decided to do what Dad's do (as far as I know...)

More Differenter Somethings...

If you remember ('cause it's been a loooong time), Carrie and I had to do an extensive autobiography for our upcoming adoption. So far, we've talked about my parents, my family, and my life through highschool... Now for some thoughts about life in college and beyond- Feel free to read this with a grain of salt- My memory is nowhere near 20-20.

In the fall of 1987 I entered my freshman year at Anderson University, in Anderson Indiana. My parent’s alma mater, there really was little doubt that I would be enrolled there as well. August meant two weeks of football practice, which gave me a chance to fit in and establish myself prior to the beginning of the orientation process for freshmen. My college football career was uneventful- I went from only losing a couple of games during my entire junior high and high school career to going 0-10 my freshman year. In all actuality, we only won ten games in the four years that I played. Highlights for me were two academic all American awards, and being a four year starter while none of my more athletic high schoolmates played more than two years at their respective institutions.

In college, I became involved with a social and service fraternity, with men’s chorus, and made a number of friends in my residence halls. I was also able to travel to serve in Peru and in the Cayman Islands over Christmas holidays, and became a teaching assistant in the psychology department. I enjoyed the late night conversations and debates, as well as the fun of the pranks and events that a group of 18-21 year old men can create when given enough time and caffeine.

In college, there were several people that I would consider friends; two guys that I lived with and one other that was in my social club and men’s chorus. The first two were friendships that were typical of my earlier relationships; we were close while we were close- I did not do a good job maintaining contact with them once I had moved on to the next stage of my life. My friend Carl, though is someone that I still am close with and who was in my wedding. We actually became closer friends during my return to Anderson for seminary and later, as he and his family were a welcoming respite for me in the midst of a difficult time later in my life.

Unfortunately, my ability to develop healthy relationships with women did not develop as well, and I continued to see dating more as a way to build my own self image. We often joked that the male to female ratio at Anderson was 5-1; I easily dated through my quota in the first couple of months of my freshman year. Throughout my college career, there were often times when I would be hanging out with one coed only to have one (or two) others pop in to visit. Awkward doesn’t even begin to describe the ensuing conversations. There were, though, two separate relationships that allowed me to learn about myself; one of which was significant enough to shape my decisions about graduate programs.

I also struggled with depression for the first couple of years of my college tenure, and was involved in counseling on a couple of different occasions. However, I ultimately was able to develop self care skills which allowed me to not only understand more about myself but also to see the importance of psychology from a deeper level. As such, I became more and more confident that I was called to work directly with people in crisis. I graduated with honors in June of 1991 with a major in psychology and a minor in religion.

I had applied to a number of graduate schools, and was accepted to several prestigious institutions. However, as I mentioned earlier, I chose to attend the University of Kentucky in order to maintain a relationship with a young woman who I had dated during college. Ironically, my historic inability to commit to a relationship with her led to her breaking up with me three days after I accepted the opportunity to study in Lexington. The depressive affect that I had worked through earlier returned for the next several months.

My experience at UK was somewhat disappointing; primarily because I was well prepared for the academic rigors of the program. Who would have known that small Anderson University could have prepared me as well as it did? I was involved with the athletic tutoring program (football and basketball), and became very involved with the church that I discovered; teaching Sunday school, leading worship, and singing in the choir. It was one of the first times that I felt welcomed for who I was and what I could bring rather than the fact that I was the son of the pastor.

It was also during this time that I experienced a faith crisis that would shape my understanding of my vocational call. While I value my college degree, I have often thought that my choice of institution resulted in an environment where I was not forced to think through my faith; instead, it was easier to just continue to have my beliefs reinforced. In graduate school, I was confronted with philosophies and thoughts that challenged my understanding of my spirituality. Part of this was a deeper exploration of the worlds of psychology, sociology, and anthropology. Part of this, though, was due to yet another series of relational losses. During Christmas of my final year in my masters program, I experienced a breakup with my fiancé at the time and the death of my maternal grandmother. While this was difficult enough to wrestle with, what impacted me most was the absence of support from my faith community, where my fiancé’s family had attended for years. I felt no care from any of our pastoral staff or my friends during my final months in Kentucky- it was as if I had ceased to exist because I no longer had my dating relationship.

I chose to cope somewhat with my losses by seeking out two internships as a part of my degree- the first with a hospice organization, and the second with pastoral counseling clinic at a large suburban church. Ultimately, I came to the realization that most faith communities were not prepared to help their members deal with crisis or loss at any level. The pat answers that most Christians fell back upon were based upon some disturbing and occasionally contradictory theologies. As I sought healing, I also felt calling to change my educational plans and go onto seminary to pursue a Master’s of Divinity. My thinking was that it was important for me to find a strong foundation from which to serve, and to find ways to help those who may be in similar situations as I had found myself. So, when I graduated from the University of Kentucky in 1993 with a Masters of Science in Educational and Counseling Psychology, I found myself driving yet again to Anderson Indiana to begin seminary in the fall.

Because of my prior work in psychology, my classes came easy to me. I excelled in the classroom environment and particularly with the coursework in pastoral care and counseling. To this day, I miss the classroom experience- the reading, discussions, and attempts to connect learning to real life. I also was given the opportunity to try my hand at direct pastoral leadership, serving a small country church primarily on Sundays. While the members of the congregation were loving and patient with me, I sensed that this would not be where my skills could best be put to use.

Instead, I began to resonate with a call to University life. I was working as an assistant football coach at my alma mater during the autumns of my degree program, and enjoyed my role as academic coordinator for our incoming athletes. I was also amazed at the amount of growth that I was able to observe in the four years that these young adults were in our program, and realized the significance of this time in life. As I continued my studies, I began exploring adolescent faith development, even focusing on this age group as a part of my internship at a large catholic hospital.

Upon graduation, I applied for a number of campus ministry positions, but found that my lack of direct experience limited my ability to find a position at any institutions. As I struggled with idea of unemployment, I was counseled by a campus minister to seek a position that would allow me to strengthen my resume with ministry with young adults. I soon accepted a role as an Associate Pastor for Youth and Contemporary Worship at a 1300 member United Methodist Church.

I enjoyed my work with the students and families of this congregation, and was able to be a part of a congregation that was doing quite a bit of vision casting for their future in the community. I had a number of supportive parents and friends, and was excited about the ways that I was able to connect and serve these people.

Beginning in April of my second year, there were several issues that arose in both my personal and professional life. While on a retreat with my youth, I received a call informing me that my niece had been killed in an auto accident. I left my students in the hands of my adult volunteers and went to Illinois to preach my first funeral. Two months later, our Associate pastor for pastoral care suffered a major stroke, and was unable to complete his responsibilities as a part of our congregation. I was asked to add his responsibilities to my duties, and I began to serve in this additional capacity for the better part of a year. As such, I found myself the primary contact person for the members and families of this congregation.

The result of this was predictable: my failure to deal with loss in my life yet again combined with my tendencies toward overwork in an attempt to excel at all of the responsibilities on my plate created an unhealthy lifestyle that impacted my friendships and relationships. Most significantly, my three year relationship with the woman that I was engaged to ended abruptly, sending me even deeper into a harmful pattern of behavior that included hyper-gymnasia and anorexia. Now, I can see that my family history had led me to this place, as had my desire to gain control over some part of a life that seemed to be spinning away from me.

In the midst of the next two years, I continued to be in leadership with my congregation. In retrospect, I should have sought professional care and counseling, but I was not emotionally at a place where I could have done this. Plus, to admit that I was not healthy would be to remove myself from the one thing that defined me- so I labored on.

However, I was blessed by two friends who were there both to hear the same sob story over and over, and to provide me with perspective when things got too difficult. I mentioned Carl earlier- from Chicago, he and his parents adopted me for many Wednesday-Saturday visits to the big city. I also was blessed by Troy, an Anderson University alumni and pastor’s son who began partnering with me in my work with the youth of our church. Troy eventually moved to Michigan to be near his wife’s family, and he serves as a youth pastor at a United Methodist church. Even though we’re on different sides of the country, we talk regularly and try to connect with each other at least once or twice a year. For instance, this past year, Carrie and I went with Carl and his family to visit their ancestral home in northern Italy- a trip we'd been talking about since college. Additionally Troy and his wife just visited us in Malibu and we were honored to ask to serve as surrogate parents for their son should something unfortunate occur. As they stood by me during some of the darkest times of my life, I was honored to have them stand with me at my wedding… but that's later in the story.

More Different Somethings

If you remember, Carrie and I had to do an extensive autobiography for our upcoming adoption. So far, we've talked about my parents... Now for some thoughts about life as I grew older- Feel free to read this with a grain of salt- My memory is nowhere near 20-20.

Being the son of a minister created some challenges to making friends: first and foremost due to the transient nature of the role. My family moved during my first year of kindergarten, after my fourth grade year, after I completed sixth grade, and again between my junior and senior years of college. My father’s job between my kindergarten and fourth grade year was serving a church in a small town in south central Missouri where the local military base was the largest employer. However, we lived in the parsonage, which (like the church) stood alone on a strip of land surrounded by a cemetery, a bar, and a car dealership. The opportunities to connect with kids that were not my brothers was limited to Sunday and Wednesday night church events and time at school. However, in this latter, the majority of my classmates were only around for a couple of years, as their parents were stationed to other parts of the world.

In church, I became involved in music and sang as a part of worship services. Also, I began to experience life as the “preacher’s kid”- the higher expectations, the stereotype of a troublemaker, as well as hearing some of the difficulties that my father was dealing with among members of our congregation.

In school, what I discovered was that as kids tried to find their place in the social order of things, being a minister’s son made for an easy target of ridicule. In addition, I found myself isolated in many of my classes in first through third grade because I had been identified as ‘gifted’, and the school system that we had did not have a curriculum for advanced students. More often than not, I would be given individual assignments and then would work on them by myself while the rest of the class would receive instruction from the teacher on a different skill set. Essentially, I was skipped several grades without actually leaving my cohort. During this time, I was also diagnosed as having ADHD- although I’m not sure if this was an accurate diagnosis, or more of a description of my ability to rapidly work through any assignments given to me and then seek to occupy myself in other ‘creative’ ways.

Much of this changed in fourth grade, where I was not allowed to continue working above my grade level. While I’m not sure if this was due to lack of support on behalf of the school system, the result was very frustrating: I was re-doing a number of assignments and projects that I had completed a year or two earlier. Instead, my teacher chose to focus on controlling my behavior; my fidgety classroom actions, my proclivity to speak out of turn, my apparent carelessness with assignments as evidenced by sloppy handwriting. As I mentioned, it was an extremely frustrating time, educationally, and this was complicated with the “do your best… and we know it’s better than that” messages that I continued to get from my parents.

The summer after fourth grade my family moved back to Anderson Indiana, where my dad entered seminary. It was during this time that we first lived in a neighborhood and that I began to develop friendships. There were a number of my classmates who lived around us, I became involved in little league baseball, and our church had a much larger group of persons my age. Educationally, I found myself again ‘mainstreamed’ and struggling with turning work in that received poor marks not for content but for format (handwriting, not showing my work, etc.). This created some early frustrations, but I ultimately began to figure out ‘the game’ and found myself excelling socially and academically, even scoring among the highest in the state on one of Indiana’s standardized tests. There was a group of about 5-10 people that I hung around with, especially during the summers, playing basketball and just being a kids. Ultimately, though, my father graduated and took a job in Ohio. I was very frustrated with this decision and with having to leave my classmates and friends, and it took a while for me to warm up to the new location and opportunities that existed.

While we knew that we had moved into a situation for a longer term than previous situations, Urbana Ohio brought with it another set of issues to be negotiated. The county seat, Urbana is a town of about 10-11 thousand that is made up primarily of persons who either worked in one of the many factories nearby or who made their living on area farms. It is a small and insular town- people are born there, graduate from high school there, and if they go off to college the return to raise their families in the same neighborhoods that they lived in. The major lifeblood is high school football and baseball- I compare my experience to the characters in the recent film and television show “Friday Night Lights”, at a smaller scale. While I had enjoyed baseball and wanted to be involved in football, I had not experienced the level of intensity that this town brought to these pastimes: Little league all star teams were the pinnacle of summertime, and organized football began at the fourth grade level.

Additionally, because of limited facilities, all of the sixth grade aged students from the numerous elementary schools in the city school district are bussed to one school just for them. While this helps them build cohorts prior to entering junior high and high school, it also limits the ability of newcomers to join these groups following this time. Another factor of the community is that there was a well established ‘gifted’ program in the school system, and it funneled directly into the Advanced Placement classes in junior high and high school. Unfortunately, though, decisions about who was in these programs happened prior to sixth grade and newcomers could not be included unless they came from schools with other ‘gifted’ programs. Because our family moved so late in the summer, my test scores and grades did not arrive until a month into the school year, when I had already been placed in the general classes.

So on the first weeks of my seventh grade year I found myself in a new place, surrounded by people who had been friends since before kindergarten, with established social classes and roles based on intelligence and athletics, in a community that valued the outward appearance of wealth (the preppy experience was a huge part of Urbana Junior High, and was my first experience with brand consciousness). Into this I walked, a new kid whose father was a minister, who kept ruining the grade curve and talked too much in class, who had not yet found his place in the athletic pantheon, who didn’t dress right and ate reduced fee lunches. It is not too hard to see that I became an early target for several bullies, who enjoyed the fact that I was obedient to my upbringing not to fight.

In high school, things seemed to even out a bit. My involvement in football helped me to fit in and was instrumental in my identity through college. I was finally able to assert myself against many of the people who had picked on me in junior high school, when they had already had their growth spurt. Once mine arrived, as I mentioned, things evened out and swung my way.

I became involved in music and drama, taking the lead in several school musical productions. Thanks to several caring teachers, I also became involved in a “Peer Listener” program, and became a listening ear for fellow students during the ups and downs of adolescence. I was involved in school and class government, and was elected president of my senior class. Ironically, one of my ‘campaign promises’ was “I am not planning a class reunion, ever.” So far, it’s been the one that was most successful, something that brings me pride to this day. I graduated in June of 1987.

My role as ‘the pastor’s son’ continued in the small church where my father served. I also helped lead worship on Sunday mornings and evenings, and was active in our choir and in our youth group. I would say that my peer and friend group through my sophomore year in high school was primarily the people in youth- most of whom were at least a couple of years older than me. I was the clown, and seemed to have been appreciated for my abilities and personality. However, there were several things that occurred that changed much of that.

First, many of my church friends began to graduate from high school and head off to college. While this was great for weekend visits, it left me as the oldest person in our youth group. While my involvement in our state youth board continued, I did not find that solace and companionship that I once had at church. Second, it was around this time that I obtained my driver’s license. Urbana Ohio, even in the late 1980s, still had a vibrant car and cruising culture; so most of my free weekends were spent driving around with classmates or on dates (more on that later). Finally, there was significant controversy at our church that changed the way that I looked at my relationship with that body of believers.

For some history, most small churches have one group that are the powerbrokers of the congregation. Our church was no different, and this conservative group was additionally impacted by the fact that the pastor prior to my father had left his wife and the church to pursue an affair. To this day, I believe that it was the echoes of this unresolved issue that shaped what happened next.

When my father first arrived, our youth group had just found a new leader; she and her husband were a dynamic, caring, hard nosed, ‘go the extra mile’, couple with four children. Her personality and love for young adults grew the group from around 5 or 6 to a group of close to 50; one that won three consecutive “youth group of the year” awards for our movement. What we did not realize, though, is that this woman’s love sprung from a desire to be needed and important that stemmed from an abusive childhood. These issues also lead to her embezzling a large sum of money from both our youth funds and her place of employment in order to purchase and provide for those around her- so that they would love and appreciate her. This all came to a head during the summer before my senior year in high school, and resulted in my father relieving her of her position and mandating that she receive counseling. I still am amazed at the grace that he showed to her, given the cost to him.

As I mentioned, there seemed to be some tremors of ‘unfinished business’ in our congregation, and many people wanted her to be condemned and dealt with before the congregation, and there was even talk of criminal prosecution. When my father continued to hold to the plan that he felt was right, rumors started about his having an affair with our former leader. What was a vibrant congregation of 250 dropped to a congregation of 35-50 by the time my father resigned (four years later). Again, I am amazed that he and my mom were able to bear with the accusations and innuendos, with those who had been nurtured during the roughest times of their lives now the most vicious in their attacks against my family. The only reason that they decided to bear through it was my father’s decision to allow my brothers to graduate from high school before they sought a different place to serve. And so, following the morning service on Easter Sunday of my junior year in college, my father both announced his plans to take his allocated two weeks of vacation and also gave his two week notice. When I drove home from school four weeks later, it was to Illinois and not Ohio.

This was the first of many faith crises that emerged for me as relationships fluctuated and changed. I came to see Christians as flawed and bitter, that their issues and personalities were not always consistent from Sunday to the work week. What was the point of faith and worship if it didn’t change things? I also began to see the impact of counseling and pastoral care; from my cousin’s therapy while she staying with us, my role as a student counselor, and from the growth, grace, and redemption that my youth pastor experienced.

Another positive aspect of my time in Ohio was my growing appreciation for people whose cultures are different than mine, especially as I developed relationships with African American classmates, fellow athletes, and people who were active in our community of faith. Being a county seat, ours was the most ethnically diverse city in our area, and the friendships that I had were across racial lines in ways that I would not have experienced had we stayed in Indiana or lived in any one of the other surrounding towns. While I can’t say that this completely disabused me of some of the misconceptions that I had about ‘others’, it did 1) match a theology of unity that I heard from my family and 2) provided me with people who would let me know when I had crossed lines.

I had a number of ‘dating’ relationships in high school, as I discovered that my listening ear made me sought out by young women who wanted to talk. Unfortunately, this was not always the healthiest situation, and there were a number of dating relationships that I had which existed merely for the sake of providing me with another identity. There were at least two women, though, that I invested enough into that our eventual breakups were the source of a great amount of teen angst.

It’s difficult to talk about friends that I had in high school, because it has always felt as if they were more invested in the community of Urbana Ohio than the people that they were classmates with. A majority of my graduating class still lives there, still works at the factories that their parents did, and still finds themselves tuning cars and going to Friday night games. We stayed in touch during Christmas and summer breaks, but at no time did they ever come to visit me in college (2 hours away). I have always felt that, either through my choices or circumstances, I have had a large number of acquaintances but very few true friends. When I told them that our family was moving, the lack of response should not have been surprising to me- and yet there was a bit of a loss on my part, as I still consider Ohio to be my home.

Next in this series... College and beyond.

Something Different

As I mentioned, Carrie and I had to do an extensive autobiography for our upcoming adoption. So, I thought that it might be worthwhile to post some of my reflections about what has shaped me- it's not fair to only write about the dead. I may post some of Carrie's story, if she gives permission

This process was the fourth time I had done something of this type (With other degree programs, etc.) However, I couldn't find my old copies, so had to create this from scratch. It would be interesting to see how things have changed since I first did a biography my sophomore year of college to now...

I was born on February 8, 1969, in Anderson Indiana, the first son of two University students. The family story is that my mother was taking finals on her due date with me, while I waited another two weeks to be born. While my father finished his degree, my mother dropped out of school in order to raise me.

My father (Charles W. Strawn, “Bill”) is the youngest of four children raised by sharecroppers in southeastern Indiana. My grandfather (Willard Walter Strawn) was a union worker for the Ford Company for the entirety of his life, and also served in local politics. My grandmother (Vae Imogene Strawn) was a homebody who struggled with health issues, including depression and agoraphobia. My uncles and aunt include a recovering alcoholic/perfectionist athlete, a blue collar ex-serviceman who married into mental illness (wife and subsequent children), and a stay at home mom whose first husband committed suicide and whose second husband fought with depression up to and through their divorce. Both of my paternal grandparents have died in the past two and a half years.

My father’s initial vocation was as a high school math teacher, where he served until I was three. At that time, he felt a tangible call to ministry, and began a legacy of pastorates that continued uninterrupted to this day (35 years). His calling has led our family from Ohio to Missouri to Indiana to Ohio (again) to Illinois, where he now continues to serve.

My father’s personality was one that did not easily anger, but one that you knew not to push too far. We never were afraid of him (except in jest), but also knew that we would be disciplined appropriately for our faulty choices. The largest struggle that I had with my father as a child was that I never knew who I was talking to- my pastor or my father. But, I believe that this has impacted my view of the pastorate more than it’s shaped my view of fatherhood- the things that he did and taught were consistent throughout. He was often unavailable when we were in growing up, but I realize now the difficulty of balancing personal/family lives with a calling to lead and minister to people whose struggles did not always occur at the most convenient times. Through college and beyond, I have always know that he was proud of me and supported me, and believe firmly that if any crisis occurred he would be on the first plane to Los Angeles.

My mother (Cheryl Christina Coleman Strawn) is an only child, and was raised in southern West Virginia by an interesting combination of parents. Grandma (Helen Lorene Coleman) was the daughter of an abusive and controlling father and a mother who passed away while she was still young. As such, grandma’s vision of childrearing was also controlling, and could be more easily characterized as emotionally manipulative than physically abusive. Grandma was a devout woman who worked as a nurse for the majority of her life; she passed away in an auto accident on Christmas Day of 1992. Grandpa (James Emmet Coleman) was a sergeant in the Army Reserve, and saw action during World War II and the Cuban Missile Crisis. He also worked as a surveyor, and is the most widely read and traveled of my grandparents. During my mother’s school years, he was often absent due to his military or civil engineering responsibilities. He was, by far, my favorite grandparent, and his passing in April was both a difficult time and a great celebration of his life. Some of my fondest memories are of summers visiting West Virginia, and it was sad for me when his house was sold and he moved in with my parents full time.

As mentioned earlier, my mother did not complete her bachelor’s degree initially, and was a stay at home mom who volunteered on occasion. As a pastor’s wife, she served the congregations that my father led in many different ways- pianist, choir director, Sunday School teacher, women’s league president, etc. I always sensed tension in her response to these roles: it frustrated her that she was not appreciated and often seen as a part of the pastoral package, yet her sense of responsibility to the church would not have let her easily relinquish a position. She finished her bachelor’s degree while we were in high school, and has worked as a social worker at several different organizations.Most recently, though, her role as a children’s advocate was cut during budgetary changes by the State of Illinois and she has been unemployed for about three years. This has left her at home to care for my grandfather (until his passing) and my younger nieces.

In summary, I believe that I can point to a number of values that my parents and grandparents have instilled in me. These include a deep faith in God through Jesus Christ, a desire to show love for others through service and leadership, a sense of loyalty to ‘family’ (including friends), an appreciation for musical performance and public speaking, and some of the traditional ‘mid-western, small town’ values for community, frugality and stewardship of resources, athletics, and the simpler pleasures of life.

Next- The rest of the clan...