Personal Biography and Path to Ministry
I have had a sense of call to ministry from a young age, affirmed both internally and externally. In second grade, my priest suggested to my teacher at my small Catholic school that I take my first communion "early," as he felt that I was "spiritually advanced." I find it a little wild and even funny now to imagine what he saw in a 7 year old that would encourage him to single me out from the rest of my class.
Still, I sometimes appreciate how my priest saw in me a deep connection to religiosity and spirituality even at seven that has continued throughout my life. I was asked to offer the homily at my high school baccalaureate; I led my peers in discovering our core values at our Catholic middle school retreat - these sorts of experiences fill my childhood and youth. I loved the community-aspects of my Catholic faith, the awareness that I was a part of a long tradition of people committed to love and service, and the community of other kids and adults who I knew and who knew me for my whole life. I also connected to the stories of saints who had lived for a purpose greater than themselves, and I loved the mass, especially the homily from the priest, and singing with the congregation. Starting in third grade, I played guitar in the church choir, and it was my favorite. Although I left Catholicism in college (blame feminism), I found in its place, the theatre. With my fellow artists, I discovered a new kind of communion, one I imagined could truly bridge differences and heal the world - which I felt was entirely consistent to the core messages of my Catholic upbringing.
Still, it was not until I found Unitarian Universalism that I truly considered the possibility of entering ordained ministry. My partner Carri and I walked into the Unitarian Universalist Church of Boulder in early 2000, in the midst of a challenging time. I had come out to my parents, and they were struggling. We felt alone and confused. Additionally, my time at CU had left me feeling unsure that professional theatre could offer me the kind of transformative opportunities I had envisioned as an undergraduate. In this wilderness, Unitarian Universalism became an important way Carri and I found healing and support.
We connected immediately with Unitarian Universalism's affirmation that all are inherently worthy, as well as the awareness that we are all a part of the great interdependent web. I loved that it drew from many sources and acknowledged that there was no singular sacred place - that holiness could be found everywhere. It was powerful to experience a faith community that fully welcomed women and GLBT people and affirmed our leadership.
In the context of this new beginning, it is not surprising that in the second worship service we attended at UUCB, I leaned over to Carri and said, “I’m going to do that someday,” pointing to the minister. It was the first time I had ever attended a church with a female minister - it was like a light switched on. Without hesitation, Carri agreed. It was the clearest I had ever been about my path, even though it took me another seven years to act on that clarity.
First, I needed to gain some life and work experience to bring to ministry. I was working a temporary job putting together bids when the owners of the company asked if I wanted to start an in-home care business. I jumped at the chance to make such a wild departure. The owners acted as advisors to me, but the creation and building of this business was in my hands. In the beginning, as the only employee, I learned the details of every aspect of running a business; as the organization grew, I learned how to articulate a vision for where we were headed and to keep people excited and involved as our business changed – which it did quickly and often.
Building the business required a deep personal investment grounded in relationship and community. We began in Northern New Mexico, where I had some vague ideas about native Spanish speakers and remote and rural communities with a high incidence of poverty, but I really had no concept of the values or history of the place or the people. All this changed my first trip to Espanola when I was able to travel into the backroads to the north, many of which have no official name or marker, and where you find your way by knocking on doors (and trying to avoid dogs). I sat with people as they told me about their changing health concerns, observed their often complicated family dynamics, and helped them come up with a plan for how they could remain in their home for as long as possible. And then I took all this back to the corporate office where we began to shape our vision for what we could be and become.
I loved northern New Mexico, and as we added offices, that love translated across the whole state. I loved the red dirt and the desert, the strange community in Roswell, the complex beauty at the border in Las Cruces, and the plazas in Santa Fe and Taos. Most of all, I loved the people. They made me laugh and drove me crazy, and taught me to let go of my pre-conceived plans in favor of figuring out what was going to actually work in their context.
Nearly six years after that first trip to Espanola, we were serving 700 elderly and disabled people across three states, and as Director of Operations, I oversaw an organization employing in the range of 1200 people. As the organization began to stabilize, I asked myself about the underlying purpose of my life. Which is to say, I was turning 30, and I knew running a business – even a successful one – was not my life’s work. And yet, that same year, Carri and I became moms to our daughter Gracie Ella, who was born in the fall of 2005 – and so I was more aware than ever what a risk it would be to forsake the security of my job.
Ultimately, however, my daughter not only caused my hesitancy, but also helped me overcome it. Our family was created through a high legal risk foster-adoptive process. The risk of loving Gracie before we knew if she would get to stay, taught me how important it is to say yes to life’s gifts, even when you are not clear how they will turn out. I took the leap of faith and entered seminary in the fall of 2007.
When I applied to Iliff, however, I applied only with the clarity that what I could learn there was what I needed to learn next. I had spent hours in my garden feeling so deeply connected to life in the biggest and yet also most particular sense. I had a regular anusara yoga practice that kept opening my heart to a greater sense of vulnerability, and receptivity. I felt a true sense of calling to spiritual leadership - and I knew my calling made sense within a Unitarian Universalist context, especially as I spent more time in leadership in my new UU congregation in Denver. I just wasn't so sure about spending my whole life in church.
Seminary was, as I had hoped, a great experience that offered me exactly the kind of learning I was craving. I had spent so much time leading from my head, and from the force of my own will; I went to seminary because I wanted to learn how to lead in connection to something greater, and from my heart. I learned how to listen deeply to people whose religious beliefs were entirely different than my own, and opened my heart to whatever life was asking of me. In the middle of my first year, I spent 10 weeks as the chaplain intern at the Denver Women's Prison, an experience that truly changed me.
Around that same time, I took Unitarian Universalist polity from the Rev. Nancy Bowen and suddenly a whole new depth of Unitarian Universalist history and theology came to life for me. And finally, at the end of my first year, I was awarded a fellowship through the Fund for Theological Education. Their not-so-secret agenda was to encourage leading younger adults to seriously consider ministry in church rather than the trend to serve outside the church. That fellowship introduced me to a peer group of seminarians from other traditions, as well as ministerial mentors across the country. Over the summer of 2013, I traveled to Atlanta for a 10 day retreat with this peer group, where we went deep into questions of call and ministry and the role of the church for today. It was especially powerful for me to be a part of this group as the only Unitarian Universalist and non-Christian, and to be welcomed, integrated and affirmed for my call to ministry and the critical role of Unitarian Universalist congregations in the shared project of furthering the reach of love. This fellowship also supported an extensive inquiry into cultivating spiritual depth in Unitarian Universalist congregational life, an ongoing focus for me.
By the middle of my second year at Iliff, all of these things came together into an overwhelming clarity: of course I would serve a church. I even became clear that I should serve a large church given my background in running a large business. I started to feel a gut sense that I was to lead a large UU congregation somewhere in Colorado, my home I hoped to never leave. The only question was, where?
My third year, I acted as the full time ministerial intern at the Unitarian Universalist Church of Boulder, which was entering its second year of a five year developmental/consulting ministry. At UUCB, I preached and led worship often, taught multiple adult faith development classes, and acted as the coordinator of young adult ministry and the Campus Minister for the University of Colorado, Boulder. These experiences set a strong foundation for my consulting ministry at Two Rivers Unitarian Universalist, which I began for the first year in collaboration with Rev. Robert Latham in August 2010, and continued on my own through June of 2012.
The congregation where I experienced my first sense of call to Unitarian Universalist ministry, and the church where I returned as an intern - the Unitarian Universalist Church of Boulder - ordained me to the Unitarian Universalist ministry in January 2012.
That same month, I heard about the possibility of a position in Fort Collins and I was encouraged to apply - it seemed like it might be a great fit. I left the interview with a profound and deep sense of joy - an abundance of energy and possibility about what we might create and discover together. It wasn't long before I got a call confirming that the feeling was mutual - the Search Committee offered and I accepted the position as the Assistant Minister at Foothills.
In the interview, Marc shared his intent to retire within 2 years - he said he felt it was only fair to let me know. The room was quiet as they awaited my response. I smiled and said - I'm not scared! Though we all laughed, I recognized then - and even more so now - it was not a simple yes. It is not a simple thing to companion a congregation through this kind of transition, to remain faithful to my sense of call, and to keep holding the vision of our great possibilities through it all.
Through my experiences at Foothills, I have grown clear about my call to senior ministry in a large congregation. My skills and gifts - the way my brain thinks - are best suited to the lead role that lives in the realm of vision, systems-building, and strategy, in addition to staff development and management, financial administration, board partnership and leadership development. Add to that my love for this church, and my sense of call to this area and what we could do together in the coming years - the possibilities are great. I look forward to talking with you about all of this, and more.
Still, I sometimes appreciate how my priest saw in me a deep connection to religiosity and spirituality even at seven that has continued throughout my life. I was asked to offer the homily at my high school baccalaureate; I led my peers in discovering our core values at our Catholic middle school retreat - these sorts of experiences fill my childhood and youth. I loved the community-aspects of my Catholic faith, the awareness that I was a part of a long tradition of people committed to love and service, and the community of other kids and adults who I knew and who knew me for my whole life. I also connected to the stories of saints who had lived for a purpose greater than themselves, and I loved the mass, especially the homily from the priest, and singing with the congregation. Starting in third grade, I played guitar in the church choir, and it was my favorite. Although I left Catholicism in college (blame feminism), I found in its place, the theatre. With my fellow artists, I discovered a new kind of communion, one I imagined could truly bridge differences and heal the world - which I felt was entirely consistent to the core messages of my Catholic upbringing.
Still, it was not until I found Unitarian Universalism that I truly considered the possibility of entering ordained ministry. My partner Carri and I walked into the Unitarian Universalist Church of Boulder in early 2000, in the midst of a challenging time. I had come out to my parents, and they were struggling. We felt alone and confused. Additionally, my time at CU had left me feeling unsure that professional theatre could offer me the kind of transformative opportunities I had envisioned as an undergraduate. In this wilderness, Unitarian Universalism became an important way Carri and I found healing and support.
We connected immediately with Unitarian Universalism's affirmation that all are inherently worthy, as well as the awareness that we are all a part of the great interdependent web. I loved that it drew from many sources and acknowledged that there was no singular sacred place - that holiness could be found everywhere. It was powerful to experience a faith community that fully welcomed women and GLBT people and affirmed our leadership.
In the context of this new beginning, it is not surprising that in the second worship service we attended at UUCB, I leaned over to Carri and said, “I’m going to do that someday,” pointing to the minister. It was the first time I had ever attended a church with a female minister - it was like a light switched on. Without hesitation, Carri agreed. It was the clearest I had ever been about my path, even though it took me another seven years to act on that clarity.
First, I needed to gain some life and work experience to bring to ministry. I was working a temporary job putting together bids when the owners of the company asked if I wanted to start an in-home care business. I jumped at the chance to make such a wild departure. The owners acted as advisors to me, but the creation and building of this business was in my hands. In the beginning, as the only employee, I learned the details of every aspect of running a business; as the organization grew, I learned how to articulate a vision for where we were headed and to keep people excited and involved as our business changed – which it did quickly and often.
Building the business required a deep personal investment grounded in relationship and community. We began in Northern New Mexico, where I had some vague ideas about native Spanish speakers and remote and rural communities with a high incidence of poverty, but I really had no concept of the values or history of the place or the people. All this changed my first trip to Espanola when I was able to travel into the backroads to the north, many of which have no official name or marker, and where you find your way by knocking on doors (and trying to avoid dogs). I sat with people as they told me about their changing health concerns, observed their often complicated family dynamics, and helped them come up with a plan for how they could remain in their home for as long as possible. And then I took all this back to the corporate office where we began to shape our vision for what we could be and become.
I loved northern New Mexico, and as we added offices, that love translated across the whole state. I loved the red dirt and the desert, the strange community in Roswell, the complex beauty at the border in Las Cruces, and the plazas in Santa Fe and Taos. Most of all, I loved the people. They made me laugh and drove me crazy, and taught me to let go of my pre-conceived plans in favor of figuring out what was going to actually work in their context.
Nearly six years after that first trip to Espanola, we were serving 700 elderly and disabled people across three states, and as Director of Operations, I oversaw an organization employing in the range of 1200 people. As the organization began to stabilize, I asked myself about the underlying purpose of my life. Which is to say, I was turning 30, and I knew running a business – even a successful one – was not my life’s work. And yet, that same year, Carri and I became moms to our daughter Gracie Ella, who was born in the fall of 2005 – and so I was more aware than ever what a risk it would be to forsake the security of my job.
Ultimately, however, my daughter not only caused my hesitancy, but also helped me overcome it. Our family was created through a high legal risk foster-adoptive process. The risk of loving Gracie before we knew if she would get to stay, taught me how important it is to say yes to life’s gifts, even when you are not clear how they will turn out. I took the leap of faith and entered seminary in the fall of 2007.
When I applied to Iliff, however, I applied only with the clarity that what I could learn there was what I needed to learn next. I had spent hours in my garden feeling so deeply connected to life in the biggest and yet also most particular sense. I had a regular anusara yoga practice that kept opening my heart to a greater sense of vulnerability, and receptivity. I felt a true sense of calling to spiritual leadership - and I knew my calling made sense within a Unitarian Universalist context, especially as I spent more time in leadership in my new UU congregation in Denver. I just wasn't so sure about spending my whole life in church.
Seminary was, as I had hoped, a great experience that offered me exactly the kind of learning I was craving. I had spent so much time leading from my head, and from the force of my own will; I went to seminary because I wanted to learn how to lead in connection to something greater, and from my heart. I learned how to listen deeply to people whose religious beliefs were entirely different than my own, and opened my heart to whatever life was asking of me. In the middle of my first year, I spent 10 weeks as the chaplain intern at the Denver Women's Prison, an experience that truly changed me.
Around that same time, I took Unitarian Universalist polity from the Rev. Nancy Bowen and suddenly a whole new depth of Unitarian Universalist history and theology came to life for me. And finally, at the end of my first year, I was awarded a fellowship through the Fund for Theological Education. Their not-so-secret agenda was to encourage leading younger adults to seriously consider ministry in church rather than the trend to serve outside the church. That fellowship introduced me to a peer group of seminarians from other traditions, as well as ministerial mentors across the country. Over the summer of 2013, I traveled to Atlanta for a 10 day retreat with this peer group, where we went deep into questions of call and ministry and the role of the church for today. It was especially powerful for me to be a part of this group as the only Unitarian Universalist and non-Christian, and to be welcomed, integrated and affirmed for my call to ministry and the critical role of Unitarian Universalist congregations in the shared project of furthering the reach of love. This fellowship also supported an extensive inquiry into cultivating spiritual depth in Unitarian Universalist congregational life, an ongoing focus for me.
By the middle of my second year at Iliff, all of these things came together into an overwhelming clarity: of course I would serve a church. I even became clear that I should serve a large church given my background in running a large business. I started to feel a gut sense that I was to lead a large UU congregation somewhere in Colorado, my home I hoped to never leave. The only question was, where?
My third year, I acted as the full time ministerial intern at the Unitarian Universalist Church of Boulder, which was entering its second year of a five year developmental/consulting ministry. At UUCB, I preached and led worship often, taught multiple adult faith development classes, and acted as the coordinator of young adult ministry and the Campus Minister for the University of Colorado, Boulder. These experiences set a strong foundation for my consulting ministry at Two Rivers Unitarian Universalist, which I began for the first year in collaboration with Rev. Robert Latham in August 2010, and continued on my own through June of 2012.
The congregation where I experienced my first sense of call to Unitarian Universalist ministry, and the church where I returned as an intern - the Unitarian Universalist Church of Boulder - ordained me to the Unitarian Universalist ministry in January 2012.
That same month, I heard about the possibility of a position in Fort Collins and I was encouraged to apply - it seemed like it might be a great fit. I left the interview with a profound and deep sense of joy - an abundance of energy and possibility about what we might create and discover together. It wasn't long before I got a call confirming that the feeling was mutual - the Search Committee offered and I accepted the position as the Assistant Minister at Foothills.
In the interview, Marc shared his intent to retire within 2 years - he said he felt it was only fair to let me know. The room was quiet as they awaited my response. I smiled and said - I'm not scared! Though we all laughed, I recognized then - and even more so now - it was not a simple yes. It is not a simple thing to companion a congregation through this kind of transition, to remain faithful to my sense of call, and to keep holding the vision of our great possibilities through it all.
Through my experiences at Foothills, I have grown clear about my call to senior ministry in a large congregation. My skills and gifts - the way my brain thinks - are best suited to the lead role that lives in the realm of vision, systems-building, and strategy, in addition to staff development and management, financial administration, board partnership and leadership development. Add to that my love for this church, and my sense of call to this area and what we could do together in the coming years - the possibilities are great. I look forward to talking with you about all of this, and more.