on returning and remembering

Nearly one year after my departure from St Andrews last June, I have now returned. Scotland has greeted me with its typical mix of rain and sun, coupled with a healthy dose of wind. I expected nothing less.

I'm here for graduation, of course. Tomorrow (Tuesday, June 21st at 10:30am) I will cross a stage in a blue gown, looking rather smurf-like, and officially transition to being Dr. Haley Goranson. It will be a good day.

Returning to St Andrews after being away for a year has been an interesting experience. Since leaving, I have moved to a new city and state, started a new job, attended a new church, built a new community, and, in many ways, started the rest of my life. So much has happened this past year that St Andrews, and my former life here, now feels rather distant.

In some ways, I'm quite glad of it. As glad as I am that I started this PhD journey 4.5 years ago now, I am also grateful that it is finished. It was, by far, the most difficult thing that I've done in my life. I certainly have not had a particularly difficult life, but it's also not like I've been sitting around twiddling my thumbs on the backroads of Mazeppa for the last fifteen years, either. From St. Bonifacius to Lithuania to Kyrgyzstan to Massachusetts to Yellowstone to Cooke City to Scotland and now to Spokane, with travels to 20+ other states and 20+ other countries thrown into the mix, I feel like I've made the most of my adult life thus far and have challenged myself sufficiently.

Of all of the various experiences and challenges, though, the PhD and life in general as a single, female, PhD student in Divinity in St Andrews, Scotland was the most difficult of those experiences. The research and writing itself was not particularly difficult, though certainly time consuming (and especially so when coupled with a part-time job of nearly 20-hours per week). Rather, it was the emotional and mental aspects of the experience which were what ultimately defined my time as a student here. It was lonely, and sometimes excruciatingly so. It was often discouraging and anxiety producing. It was fatiguing to the point of exhaustion. It made me question my competence, my skills, my person, and my vocational callings. There was a daily anxiety about the unknown future: will I get a job? will I be able to pay back loans? will I even go into academia? would I even be a good teacher? So many unknowns about the future, mixed with self-doubt and fatigue, made for a constant inward battle. I fought hard to remain positive, joyful, and confident.

God's grace was sufficient, and he was good as ever to provide joys and happy memories in the midst of the struggles. He provided dear friends, a wonderful place to live, a fulfilling part-time job, opportunities to know the Scottish people, culture, and land, and opportunities to travel while here. I'm hopeful that some day, as I transition further away from this time in life, it will be those happy memories which dominate the landscape of my perspective on my time here. Already, having finished the task and having a fantastic year of teaching under my belt, St Andrews is becoming what it was when I first arrived: a place of beauty, history, charm, and happy memories. Crossing the stage tomorrow will perhaps be the happiest memory of all.

There is a link to watch the graduation ceremony live from your living room, but unfortunately the timing of the event isn't stellar. My ceremony is at 10:30am on the 21st, which means it is 4:30am central time. In the unlikely event that you can't sleep that night, here is the link: https://www.st-andrews.ac.uk/graduation/watch-live/.

Love to you all from St Andrews.

A First Class Life

First class is the way to travel. Having just been served lunch with a side of as much Black Forest cake and coffee as I wish, I feel a bit like royalty. Too bad the journey from St Andrews to London is only five hours. As we’re currently at Newcastle Station, I’ve got 2.5 hours to eat my fill of chocolate goodness.

I’m heading to London to spend the week looking after Cousin Mungo, while Ronald, Judith’s son, is away on a business trip. As my dear mom often reminds me, ‘It’s not what you know but who you know’. In my world it’s a bit of both, but the point is taken. I have a week ahead of playing tourist, with very nice and very free accommodation, a wee pug at my side, and a first class train ticket generously purchased by Ronald in my name to make it all happen. Am I lucky, or what? 

Cousin Mungo

It won’t be all fun and games, though. The work must still get done, particularly now that I’m down to a mere two months  before I say ‘adios’ to Scotland for good, and only six weeks before my mom and dad start flashing their passports in their race to see me. So I’ll spend my early mornings working away, followed by afternoons of London extravaganzas (i.e. walking around and taking in free or very cheap attractions), followed by evenings at home with Mungo and the computer.

The viva feels like ages ago now. My days are again consumed by early morning till late afternoon study sessions, adding, tweaking, and revising sections of the thesis. As discouraging as it is to still have things to do, I’ve been very encouraged these last few weeks, and have been reminded of God’s grace in all of my life’s pursuits. The viva examiners’ reports where strongly encouraging. One examiner wrote that my thesis is perhaps ‘more intellectually ambitious than any [he has] ever examined or supervised’. Elsewhere they called it ‘theologically ambitious’. And, because it is so ‘ambitious’, they’ve requested special permission for me to have an additional 20,000 words to use in order to sustain the argument. That means that I don’t have to take out anything from the current thesis but that my thesis ultimately will be 100,000 words when it would have been the standard 80,000 words—a huge increase.  The beautiful thing is that, everything they’ve requested I add to the thesis now is what I had already anticipated adding for publication purposes at a later date.  I’m just being forced to do it now rather than then—a long-term benefit to me.

And in the midst of trying to wrap up things here in the United Kingdom, I’m increasingly looking forward to my transition to Spokane. How can I not do so, when I get notes like these from future colleagues:

‘Let it be a comfort to you to remember that you're coming into a maximally supportive situation here at Whitworth and in our department.  Everyone is rooting for you. . . . There's no doubt that you're going to flourish once you arrive here’.

And: ‘We're excited for you to arrive. There is quite a buzz among the students about you!’

Changes are afoot!  I’m riding first class on a train, but I’m pretty sure I’m also living a first class life.

As ever, stay tuned for photos of Londonland!

slow and steady

Judith, my landlady, just served me a Drambuie on the rocks.

Unfortunately, it wasn’t in celebration.

The viva lasted three hours today—three long but surprisingly enjoyable hours. The examiners pressed me hard on a number of my arguments, and my answers were not too shabby. Nevertheless, the result wasn’t what I had hoped it might be. Though my answers in the viva were all that one can expect for an oral exam, they felt the thesis itself is in need of some further work before it can be considered complete. Though my supervisor felt the thesis was in good shape, the examiners had other opinions. This was perfectly within the realm of possibilities, just not what I’d hoped for, nor what my supervisor expected. 

But, all is well. I already have a job, which in itself is quite the feat, and the PhD will get finished. I’ll just need to spend some additional months making that happen. The plus side is that I would have spent these months working on the thesis anyway, in preparing it for publication. Now  it will be closer to publication readiness and probably a whole lot sooner, as well.  I’m taking a bit of a detour before finishing, but slow and steady still wins the race, or at least still finishes the race. And that’s all I care about.

Thanks for all your prayers, love, and encouragement during this process. It is truly the most trying thing I’ve ever done. I’m disappointed that it will continue for a while longer, but will be glad to have a better final product in the end.

of d-day and your role to play

Well, kids, it’s go time again, both for me and for you.

For me, it’s D-Day this Monday, March 30th—the day on which I’ll ‘D’-fend my thesis in my Viva, the oral exam.

For you, Monday is offense day—the day you get on those knees and say your prayers for me. God answered them last December (over three months ago now!) when you pleaded for me to get the job, and so I enlist you again.

There are a handful of results that could come from the Viva, anything from passing on the spot and walking away as Dr. Goranson (!), to having a year’s worth of revision to make. Needless to say, the fewer the revisions, the better, but anything is possible.  So say your prayers, people. Pray that I would not be nervous, but that I would be engaging and articulate, that I would recall texts and ideas and authors that I’ve studied these last three years, and that I would defend my arguments persuasively and graciously.

This is College Hall, a room dating back to the 16th century and the place where I’ll be examined. You can picture me here at 2:00 pm on Monday, alone with my two examiners at the oversized oval table.

I’ll be here at 2:00 pm but, given the time difference, you’ll have to play your role much earlier. Depending on where you live, at 6:00 am, 7:00 am, 8:00 am, or 9:00 am, you best be out of your warm and cozy bed and on your knees at the side of it, no matter how creaky your knees are! :)

Many thanks, kids. I’ll report back Monday with the results…

Nearly Finished

Something big happened today.

That ‘little paper’ I’ve been working on for the last three years… I officially submitted it to Registry. It was 226 pages long (1.5 spaced!). Just think… 226 pages on 1/3 of a verse! And there was so much more that could have been written.

So what does ‘submission’ mean? Am I done yet? Well, not quite. ‘Submission’ means that I can no longer make any changes to the dissertation before my viva, the oral exam, which I’m anticipating will occur sometime in March. It means that the dissertation I submitted today will be sent to my two examiners, one here in St Andrews and the other who lives in Edinburgh. They have 6+ weeks to read it before they conduct my viva. I’m still waiting to hear about an exam date.

Until then, there is much to be done, beginning with taking a short holiday! I’m heading down to England for a quick trip this weekend, and next week will head West to Dublin! My cousin and his family moved there this autumn, so now’s my chance to visit them. When January is over, so will be my break. I’ll spend February preparing for the viva, which will primarily entail re-reading what my examiners have written and re-learning what I wrote in the dissertation. Shouldn’t I know it all already? I did write it, after all. Probably. But there are thousands of unimaginable details, people, and I need to be prepared to talk about and defend them all.

So now I wait for the viva. Waiting seems to be the game I’m forced to play these days. Hopefully I’ll have updates in the next week or so on anything that might come after the viva. Hoping and waiting, and waiting and hoping. I’m learning that I’m not nearly as patient as I think I am. One of the many lessons of life we’re forced to learn.

An Update or Two

Has anyone ever asked you: ‘If you could have one super power, what would it be?’ It’s often one of those ‘ice-breaker’ questions posed at tables or in small groups at various gatherings. Right now my elected power would be to have mastery over time, the ability to slooowww doowwwwnnn time and the ability to speeditup. The ability would be particularly handy these days—these days that are, blimey, now called ‘November’.

The weeks here are simultaneously long and short, and 9 times out of 10 are marked by rigid routine and an overwhelming sense of the mundane. The mornings are dedicated to completing the PhD and the mind-numbing process of dissertation revision which accompanies it. My dissertation has seven chapters in total: an introduction and conclusion plus five main chapters. The introduction and conclusion are completed, as  are 2.5 of the 5.  Given this progress, The Supervisor and I have recently started discussing potential examiners for my viva (oral defense) in the spring. It’s a stage I’ve only imagined until now. The end is in sight.

The afternoons are dedicated to my continuing role as the University of St Andrews Study Skills Tutor. From 2-5 each day I meet with students 1-on-1 to discuss proper formats for essays, lab reports, and critical reviews. Sometimes we chat about time management skills, how to read effectively, or how to take good notes. This semester my role has expanded to leading workshop sessions in the School of Medicine and in Professional Development courses designed for the undergraduate body.  It’s a good thing I’m already somewhat used to having fifty heads looking at me; though those Sunday mornings at MRCP are gradually beginning to feel like a distant life. Tutoring and leading the workshops is enjoyable work and helps me to buy my weekly lentil supply. The down side, however, is that 15 hours a week does add up and, if I’m determined to meet my PhD submission goals, it means these hours must then be made up for at night. The ability to slow down the days would certainly be quite handy just now.

These days are further characterised by the ever-looming job hunt. Between getting groceries, cleaning, cooking, churching, fellowshipping, and, oh ya, relaxing, my Sundays are spent writing applications for various open positions around the country. And, yes, for teaching jobs you ‘write’ applications. There are no fill-in-the-blank, one-page applications: there are cover letters and Curriculum Vitae’s tailored to each school, 1—3-page essays on faith statements and how your goals align with that institution’s mission and values; there are teaching philosophies, evidence of scholarship potential, evidence of good teaching, writing samples, and anything else under the sun about which the search committee might want to know. It gets a little ridiculous, especially since (1) the search committee members don’t have the time to read it all; (2) the applicant doesn’t have time to write it all; (3) the majority of the applicants whose CV’s go straight to the bin (for many reasons) won’t even have their essays read.

Fortunately for me, a couple of the schools to which I’ve applied have read my letters/CV/essays/etc. and have advanced me to the next round. This past week I had a Skype interview with a top-notch university on the West coast and am now scheduled for a follow-up (aka much longer) Skype interview with them in mid-November. Likewise, the school to which I applied last winter but which had to suspend its hiring process has now resumed the search. They, too, have requested a Skype interview in mid-November. Both universities would be excellent places of employment. I’m still a long way from having the job and still have a significant amount of competition, but it puts me leagues ahead of the chap whose CV (and thus essays) went straight into the bin. At this point, I have no idea where I’ll be or what I’ll be doing one year from now, but I trust that God does and that he’ll direct my steps through open doors.

‘But what do you do for fun?’ you ask. The answer: not much. Somehow finishing the PhD and getting a job seems far more worthy of my time than having fun. Not to worry your pretty little heads though; I do rest and I do enjoy life; I do find time to have coffee and lunch with friends. To ensure some element of ‘fun’ in my life, I’m forcing myself to ‘bake through’ The Scottish Women’s Rural Institutes Cookery Book that I found on Judith’s shelf. It was compiled in 1960. They didn’t need instructions back then like we seem to need now.

Thus far I’ve made a Treacle Tart, a Rhubarb Charlotte, and my first steamed pudding: Carrot Pudding. (Note: I’m not talking ‘Jello-O’; ‘pudding’ here denotes ‘dessert’.)

My Treacle Tart

Steamed Carrot Pudding

Judith had to walk me through the steaming process…

The highlight of every week remains a Skype date with The Soldier. He’s doing well, particularly now that the desert heat has lowered from the constant 105 F average to the mid-high 70’s. Other than a last minute day trip to Baghdad the other week to repair a broken auxiliary pump (don’t ask me), his days are about as mundane as mine. If it were a competition, we’d be neck and neck—a sad thought, given that we both live in foreign countries just now!

All in all, life is good. The work is progressing, the future is drawing ever nearer, and God remains as faithful as ever. Not much to complain about, really.

4th Year Exile

Last week’s return to the UK marked the start of my final year of life here in Scotland and at the University of St Andrews.  It marked my final year of PhD work (most likely), and it marked my final year of being a full-time, fee-paying student.  After this year I’ll have been in school for 24 years: 13 (ZM), 4 (Crown), 3 (GCTS), 4 (St A).  Do I know more now than I did when I started?  I can perhaps read and write better than I did pre-Kindergarten, but my math skills remain delinquent and I still don’t have my Southern Hemisphere geography or my Periodic Table of Elements memorised.  Life-long homework, I suppose.

It’s good to be back across The Pond.  I’m ready to finish here and to return ‘home’; and returning for this final winter is with the goal of making that transition happen.  My time in Scotland has been good in many ways, and I will always cherish the memories from this land.  But I’m ready to be done; I’m ready to be a teacher, to be back in leadership, to use my gifts, to mentor students, to earn an income.  Oh to see the day!

This final semester of work on the dissertation is tangibly different than those previous.  Some friends who started this programme with me have decided to finish from home.  And, due to retirements in the Academic Development department in which I work, my role as the University of St Andrews Study Skills Tutor has expanded, meaning that most of my ‘free’ hours are now spent preparing for workshops and other tasks rather than with the friends that remain.  That is to say that, my social life is nearly non-existent.

But the largest tangible difference is my final-year exile from the Duncan room and the Roundel—my office and office building of the last three years.  All fourth year students occupy the Baillie room, which sits on the top floor of the St Mary’s College building, dating back to the 1600’s (I think). 

Unlike those of the Roundel, Baillie Room residents do not have 24/7 access to their office… or to their books.  Monday through Friday, 8am-7pm.  That, my friends, is a very short work day/week, and an unfortunate part of the fourth year, given the push to finish.  The Baillie Room is not all bad, however.  Whereas the Roundel is directly across from the beautiful Cathedral ruins, the Baillie Room is in the St Mary’s community, literally 20 yards from the divinity library, a doorway away from the seminar rooms and the faculty offices.  For the first time in my time here, I feel like a participant in the everyday life of the divinity school.  I now work ‘on campus’.

And, I scored one of the best desks in the room, the furthest away from the door and complete with its own window and chair.

Some of you will recognise my Montana ‘office’ in the photo to the left of the lamp. :)

Envision me working away back in the corner.

To access the Baillie Room, we climb the circular stairwell leading up through the ‘Founders Tower’ (seen behind the tree in the picture above),

  after entering through this door:

Because I submitted my first rough draft to my supervisor before returning home for the summer, my task now is to revise that draft into a version that will be submitted for final evaluation and which I will defend at my viva, the oral exam,  sometime in February or March of 2015.

This is truly the final leg of this Scotland journey, and I’m quite keen to get on with it.

of deadlines reached and dreams at the doorstep

The deed is done. The battle is won. Rest now knocks at my door.

Scratch that…

Summer now knocks at my door. 

How in the world?! has April turned into May, and May into June, with July stealthily encroaching?  I barely remember any of it. For the first time since my one-day outing to the Cairngorms at the beginning of April, but really since my return to Scotland from Minnesota last January, I’m finally coming up for air.

Last Friday I reached my hard-earned goal of submitting my 106,000-word-dissertation draft to Professor Wright for review. Those 106,559 words are 2 ^3/4 years in the making.  Collectively, they represent the thoughts that have consumed me for at least the last two years; whether in waking, walking to work, working, writing, walking home from work, or wearied from another day, these  thousands of words are representative of my life in Scotland.  (In case you’re unaware, ‘living in Scotland’ does not equal ‘every day’s a new adventure’. On the contrary, ‘living in Scotland’, at least for me, means thinking and re-thinking, examining and re-examining the same thoughts and ideas day after day after day after day after day after day in an incredibly mundane day to day existence. Somehow I feel like I know too-well the cow’s subjection to a monotonous life of chewing its cud. [Part of the subjection of creation (Rom. 8:20), I wonder?]) But, alas, Friday came and ‘SEND’ was clicked; thanks be to God.

Moreover, due to Professor Wright’s intense travel schedule these days, the turn-around time for submission-review-feedback was lighting fast. Yesterday played host to a 3-hour marathon meeting, where we talked through the strengths and weaknesses of the draft as it currently stands. His feedback was highly encouraging, and definitely confirmed my suspicion: there is definitely a light at the end of this long and winding tunnel.  While there are seemingly thousands of bits and pieces to alter here and there, only one chapter (which I already knew) and a handful of smaller chunks of chapters require substantial revision.  This is to say that, while there is a lot of work yet to do, none of it will be particularly difficult.  The so-called ‘hard work’ is done.  My original contributions to scholarship are in place, and my argument is clear and (I think) persuasive. I’m 25,000 words over the limit, but removing words is a whole lot easier than generating new ideas and research. It’s a good place to be.

It feels good to reach a milestone such as this, and even better to know that the work I’ve produced is quality. It also feels good to know that a Minnesota summer is quickly approaching, being at this point exactly one week from knocking at my door. Though I don’t yet dream of humidity and the Minnesota mascot, the Mighty Mosquito, I do anxiously await warmth, sun, and one of mankind’s greatest inventions—the hammock.

Move over mom, I’m coming home!

because

as I sit here eating my lentil and kale soup (day 3 of 5), I’ve never related more to a comic than I do to this one.

Also—on a very random note—for anyone interested in the relationship between science and scripture, clear an hour of your day and listen to the lecture Professor Wright gave the other week, titled, ‘Can a Scientist Trust the New Testament?’  It’s a unique title because, in our current (especially American) Church culture, the question is usually posed in the opposite: ‘Can a New Testament believer trust a Scientist (science)?’  I assure you you’ll appreciate his insight, not only into the question itself but how the question relates to our larger post-Enlightenment world of ‘progress’.  The lecture is found at:

http://www.jamesgregory.org.uk/series-2/can-a-scientist-trust-the-new-testament/

of speed bumps and dance parties

Earning a PhD is a two steps forward one step back process.  As long as the project is moving steadily, if perhaps slowly, forward, it is heading in the right direction; hence the reason many refer to it as a four year marathon.  The problem for me is that I don’t like going backwards.  Ever.  If you know me, you know I think in terms of efficiency, in a the-straightest-distance-between-two-points… way of thinking, in a do-it-the-right-way-the-first-time-so-you-don’t-have-to-do-it-again way of thinking.  So every time I submit a piece of writing to my supervisor, having spent hour after, day after day pouring over it, praying about it, dreaming about it, I hope beyond hope that it will be a two steps forward and zero steps back submission.  As of yet, that hasn’t happened.  Instead, after submitting my what I foolishly think is brilliant first draft of any piece of writing and having a subsequent meeting with him I feel discouraged, because inevitably, in the midst of the accolades for the new insights and arguments offered, there is always some level of critique that pushes me one blasted step backwards.  ‘This needs restructuring’.  ‘I don’t follow you here…’.  ‘What does this add to your argument’?  ‘Split infinitive’!!  For two years now I’ve despised that backwards step, no matter how many leaps forward accompany it.

But I’m beginning to learn something and, in learning, to appreciate.  I’m learning that these speed bumps are the reason I agreed to pay an ungodly amount for education, the reason for why I decided to study here in Scotland and under this supervisor.  And as frustrating as those steps backward are, I’m learning to appreciate them as opportunities in themselves.  Every exercise enthusiast (not me) knows that a forward lunge primarily strengthens your quads but a reverse lunge primarily works the glutes and hamstrings.  One’s easier but both are good.  It’s in the reverse lunge that I learn how to construct a sentence, how to give direction, how to use a hyphen, how to build an argument, how to engage my reader, and how to do it all clearly, precisely, and persuasively.  It’s in these backward steps in which I’m sent back to the drawing board that my skills as a researcher and a biblical scholar are refined, and they’re done so under the guidance of someone known not only as an expert in the field of New Testament studies but equally as much for his elegant and engaging writing.  In these steps backwards, I am the apprentice—a position many people would love to have.  So rather than begrudge that speed bump in the road I am learning to hit it fast enough to enjoy it.  I might hit my head on the roof of the car but at least it will be accompanied by that wonderful feeling of a soaring stomach!

Anyway.  Excluding the 30+ photo’s I’ve posted over the last month, I realize that I’ve hardly communicated with most of you otherwise.  Some of you have patiently waited for email responses for several weeks now.  My apologies.  October was a month of writing a draft of a beloved chapter and, having hit a speed bump yesterday, November will be about taking it beyond being beloved to actually being good, i.e. another very intense month ahead.  Three and a half weeks are left between now and November 30th, which is not only the end of the month and my finish line goal for this chapter but is also St Andrew’s Day, a day on which the Edinburgh Castle offer free entrance and my anticipated reward for finishing.  That said, you probably won’t hear from me for another three and a half weeks, other than a photo a day, but do know that all is well here in Scotland, a land growing darker and colder by the day but nevertheless failing to diminish the spirit of this student.    

One more thing before I go. 

Last month wasn’t all work and no play.  Well, October was, but November 1 brought entertainment relief in the form of a University-sponsored Halloween dance party… thing.  It’s called ‘The Bop’, it happens every Friday night, is primarily attended by people at least ten years younger undergraduate students, and doesn’t even begin until 10:30—over an hour past my bedtime.  As it was on my list of must-see’s and do’s before leaving, as well as on my friend Hauna’s list, we decided to make it official.  To ‘The Bop’ we went… in our superb and wonderfully free Halloween costumes.

A fierce lion and a nun.

Here the nun is either blessing the lion or performing an exorcism… in her Under Armor shirt and with a skirt on her head.  Nice.

Fierce, right?

And the lesson learned from that experience: don’t stay up dancing until 1am unless you have no need of a functioning brain for the next three days. 

Staying up late is now as bad as jet lag, indicating only one thing: 

I am getting old!

of returning and continuing

Yet again I’ve travelled to the end of the world and back, though in the summer when the road is open Cooke City doesn’t feel quite like the end of the world—just close enough to the edge to make a trans-Atlantic traveller rather weary.   My time at home in Minnesota and Montana passed far too quickly, as I should have expected it to do, but was nevertheless exceptionally fun and refreshing.  Hardly a day went by that I didn’t spend time with old or new friends in some form of outdoor recreational activity, or assisting in preparations for Brandon and Kerstin’s wedding.  Someone in Montana made the comment one day that I’d done nearly everything under the sun on this trip.  Well, perhaps not everything, but certainly the days were filled with a number of activities.  Needless to say, I did not accomplish the school work I had anticipated accomplishing.  Why I still deceive myself into foolishly thinking that I can get work done when away from St Andrews is beside me. 

The weather finally changed on the day that I left, but what a scene to leave!

Five weeks away from the office is a long time, to be sure; returning to St Andrews, I can sense a loss of momentum.  This is entirely normal, but it’s also to the simple fact that I so dearly love everyone that I’ve just said goodbye to (again), and I’d rather be there than here.  Scotland is good, but Minnesota/Montana, i.e. home, is better.  Before beginning this PhD programme, several former professors shared with me their experiences of loneliness while pursuing their doctorates and cautioned me to be prepared for a similar experience and challenged me to make adequate time for maintaining friend and family connections at home.  This break was necessary for just that reason (along with giving my eyes a rest from reading)!

Exactly two years ago today I arrived in Scotland for the first time, and, as of yesterday, I am now a third-year doctoral student; how remarkable is that?  I am now part of the group of students who have held desk space longer than any other current students in my office building.  Those here before me have either completed the programme, returned to the States to complete, or have been assigned alternate desk space as they’re in their fourth year.  I too will be reassigned to another desk one year from now.  Hopefully by that time the light at the end of the tunnel will be glowing rather brightly.  Hopefully.

Being home was wonderful for the change of pace and activities to distract me from the endless studies, but it was also incredibly beneficial for regaining a sense of purpose and support.    After a few months of the daily grind here, it is easy to feel alone in the pursuit, especially during the dark days of winter.  Despite what any photos might present, life in Scotland is no vacation.  Returning to St Andrews this time around, however, especially considering that I probably won’t be back in Montana until I leave Scotland for good, I am returning and beginning this third year with a renewed sense of purpose and community support.  Hearing family and friends declare ‘We’re so proud of you’, and ‘you’re always in our prayers’ were just the words this soul needed to hear.  I’m returning here reminded that, while it may be my body and mind at the desk and in the books day after day, hour after hour, there is one huge family and one mountain village entirely behind me in this pursuit, and, though it may feel like it on occasion, I am not alone.  This PhD is for me and a future career, but even more so, it is for all of my family and my dear, dear friends in Montana/Wyoming.  Thank you to all of you who continually show your love and support of me in this pursuit.  It’s that support that will bring me home—eventually for good.

And, just to throw this in, as I sit here eating my red lentil vegetable soup (day 1 of 5), ‘THANK YOU’ to all of you who either bought food for me or cooked for me while home.  I can still taste the cookies, steaks, pancakes, ribs, pizza, and everything in between!  

Finally, for your reading pleasure, a few words from Montana’s greatest song writer:  ‘If you’re ever in Montana take a message to my friends, that the glamour of the city is riding empty on the wind; it can steal away your joy and leave your heart stone blind, make a cold Montana winter seem like something warm and fine’.  Well said, Jeff; well said.

of tutoring and teaching

A tutor who tutored the flute tried to tutor two tooters to toot. Said the two to the tutor, ‘it’s easier to toot than to tutor two tooters to toot’.

‘Aye, ‘tis indeed’, says this ‘Scottish’ tutor!

This past week marked the end of the teaching elements of this Candlemas Semester at the University of St Andrews. The students now have two weeks with no classes or tutorials or homework in which to prepare for their final exams.

I’m sure they will study hard that final weekend.

(The room at St Mary’s College in which I tutored this year.)

The end of the classroom and teaching elements also marks the end of my role as tutor for the Jesus and the Gospels class, in which I tutored two groups of thirteen students. Twenty-six students from incredibly diverse backgrounds and beliefs, most of whom do not share the Christian faith, all read and studied the four canonical Gospels over the last couple of months. A handful had read the texts at some point in their life, but the majority of them were new to the Bible. Some had a basic understanding of Christian doctrines and the person and work of Jesus, and some were under the impression that Jesus was equally as historically real as Aladdin. For some, Jesus was the Son of God, but not God himself; and for others, the Gospels have no more spiritual authority than the Harry Potter series.

There were some interesting tutorial sessions, to say the least.

I really did enjoy my students and the experience of tutoring for this class, but two important things were confirmed for me in so doing. The first is that I love to teach and want to teach, but I want to teach my students and my information on the basis of my syllabus. Trying to teach someone else’s students, students whom I only see for one hour a week, is actually very difficult. There are no opportunities to build rapport with them, to figure out what they do or don’t need to learn, to figure out their presuppositions, backgrounds, discriminations, etc. This year of tutoring here confirmed in me that I want to write my own syllabi and lesson plans, to organize the information in the way that I think is appropriate, to challenge my students to think in the ways I deem necessary. Tutoring is not teaching, and, though it is a good experience (and the only experience we can get here in British PhD programmes), I want to teach, and I want the whole package.

That package includes the second confirmation, namely that, while I care about the communication of information, my vocational goals do not align with those of the public university or non-Christian liberal arts school. My heart is in the Christian college where the focus is not on the increase of knowledge and debunking Christian ‘myths’, but the process of discipleship and character formation that comes with the increase in knowledge in a person who already has a personal faith commitment. Knowledge is good, and it is important; but ultimately it is not what the university years are all about, particularly for Christian students at Christian colleges. A student at a Christian College can graduate after four years of hard work and focus, but if that student walks across that stage having not been challenged in their person, then that college has failed them, their professors have failed them, and they have failed themselves. My heart is in discipleship and mentoring—teaching students about God in order that they might know God and love God more deeply, to the extent that their person and life are a reflection of that gained knowledge. I don’t want to teach at a public university, or even a non-Christian liberal arts university. I want to teach Christians—students who think they know the Bible, but who really only know a book of stories. I want to teach students who want to go into the pastorate, missions, youth ministry, or any other full-time ministry in which they will teach others about God. I want to teach students who want to make an impact on the world around them, whether in their vocation or in their general lives. I want to know that I’m impacting the declining and biblically illiterate Church in America via my students. That’s where my heart is at and that’s what I yearn to do… some day when I’m no longer the student.

Oh will that day ever come?

From Rags to (Metaphorical) Riches

At different times throughout the day yesterday I thought it was Thursday, Friday, and Saturday. 

It was only Wednesday. 

Perhaps that is the best indication of my mental state these days, or what it has been anyway for the last several weeks.  Since returning from Germany and starting the new semester three days later, the days and weeks have all become one big blur, and if it wasn’t for my calendar, I would have no idea what has transpired throughout them. 

What has transpired throughout them? 

The typical events… in excess of the typical amount:  meetings, illness, early morning runs, hours upon hours of research and writing, hours upon hours upon hours of tutoring (19 hours last week alone!), presentation preparations, and a few hours here and there with friends. 

One of the most nerve-racking experiences of the last three weeks took place this past Tuesday, but consumed what felt like every spare moment from Friday afternoon through the weekend. 

What was this nerve-racking experience? 

Presenting an academic response to a section of N.T. Wright’s soon-to-be-published new book, Paul and the Faithfulness of God, in our weekly New Testament Seminar.  The topic was Paul’s revised understanding of ‘The Problem of Evil’ after his conversion, with the imbedded question of ‘Plight and Solution’.  If you have no idea what that means, I don’t blame you.  I barely know.

The last time I presented anything of an academic nature in a properly academic environment was my senior year of college.  Eight years ago.  Then, it was to my undergraduate peers who knew nothing about what I was presenting.  On Tuesday, it was in front of Professor Wright—a former Bishop and current world-class New Testament scholar, a handful of other faculty, and about 30 postgraduate students—only one of whom was female.  Such is life in this field. 

I’d suggest that I’ve gone from rags to riches in the last eight years, but I’m currently

more poor than I’ve ever been.    

I love public speaking, so it was a great experience.  And I’m thankful for the metaphorical riches, even if the literal riches are yet to come. 

Right.    

Here’s a glimpse into the experience.  The majority of the people are behind the round table, with about ten seated at it.  I like the picture below because the chap in the chair in the background looks like he’s sleeping.  Upon inspection, his eyes are open, but he looks rather comatose.  I blame the room temperature.

Here I’m sure Professor Wright is checking what I’m saying against his Greek New Testament in order to refute my ideas in his response.  Or perhaps he’s simply memorizing the last 5% of the Greek New Testament as he patiently waits for me to finish my drone.  

Notice the date engraved into the fireplace behind us: 1537!

And now I need to write a sermon for Sunday; it will be my first time preaching anywhere outside of Cooke City.  Unlike academic presentations, the gap between preaching then and now is only 1.5 years.  Has it really only been that long? 

of welcome endings and fresh beginnings

My second year of PhD studies is officially underway.  In fact, it has been underway now for nearly a month.  And so far, this  second year is looking a whole lot different than the first.  Last year at this time I was exhausted, emotional, lonely, feeling like a fish out of the water, and more home/Montana sick than I had been in a long time.  And all of it was ten times worse than I ever let on. 

After three weeks of studies in this new year, I am just plain exhausted.  I am still lacking some necessary confidence, still feeling a bit like a Rainbow flopping on the bank of the Yellowstone, still missing home/Montana/MRCP, and still a bit emotional; but for the most part, since getting back from Paris one month ago, I haven’t stopped running—a sport that I’m not too keen on.   

I am so thankful that last year is over and that this new year has begun.  Last year was probably the second most difficult year of my life—second to my long and lonely year in Kyrgyzstan.  This should tell you nothing other than I have led an incredibly blessed and fortunate life to-date.  I’m the first one to recognize it and I recognize it well.  Nevertheless, last year was a very long and lonely year.  And it wasn’t for any one reason either—it just was. 

By far the most difficult thing last year was transitioning from the role of pastor to student.  Needless to say, my pastoral experience was not typical; but I think because it was atypical it made it all the more difficult to separate myself from it.  I thoroughly enjoy being in leadership positions, especially when those experiencing my leadership are benefited by it.  In Montana I had something to offer people, whether it came through Sunday mornings, Bible studies, or personal conversations.  There was a sense of being needed, and that makes the soul feel good.  Not many things give me the natural high that comes with seeing people grow in their faith and knowledge and dedication to Christ.  I’m a good leader and it was difficult to go from a place where my good leadership was critical for success to a place where the roles are quite reversed.  As a student, I am no longer needed and I have nothing to say, which is good, since it is now my job to listen. 

Along with leaving the pastorate, I had to transition from one incredible community to another.  In Montana I knew the birth year and location of half of the town residents.  I saw the same 50 faces day after day after day after day after day after day after day after day…  after day after day… after day after day…  There was a genuine community where secrets were impossible, gossip was irresistible, conflicts were inevitable, and friendships were incredible.  Someone to while away the hours with was never further than a mile away, and it usually involved either a mug and a wood stove or fun out in the snow and the sun.  And then I said ‘goodbye’ and had to start all over again upon my arrival here.  Developing friendships takes loads of work, and unfortunately, there is little time here to devote to such necessities.  What’s more, not only did I leave a fabulous community, but I was thrown back into a community of people without gray hair my age for the first time in a while, which, in and of itself was quite the adjustment!     

Then there was the return to academia and the need to jump-start my brain.  I remember telling someone here that I could talk quite precisely about the difference between elk, moose and deer scat, but describing the implications of the subjective genitive required a part of my brain that no longer functioned.  It was a slow recovery process.

And not only was it jump-starting my brain upon returning to academia, but it was also having to learn to study in a whole new way.  No longer was I in a classroom with thirty other students taking notes while a professor lectured from the front.   Now it was me doing the research, me sitting with me, myself, and I at my desk all day, reading and reading and reading and reading.  There was so much that I didn’t know (and still don’t), and I had to play catch-up in a whole new way. 

I had gone for more than a year since seeing many of my closest friends.

I didn’t have a church community.

I had a less-than-ideal housing situation (no pre-9am showers with hot water, stolen food, molding dishes in the sink, unwanted noises from the bed in the room below  at 2 am, etc.).

And I was back as a single woman in a married man’s world.  I suppose that was the case for pastoring, but again, nothing was normal about the pastorate in Cooke City.  The majority of my colleagues are men who are married to wonderful women, all of whom I have grown to love dearly.  Nevertheless, the feeling of ‘never quite fitting in’ is constant here, especially at social events when the women often end up in one room talking about ‘women and wifely’ subjects, and the men are in another room talking about Targum Jonathan or the Septuagint vs. the Masoretic Text or Paul and Apocalyptic themes, or whatever… and I never know where I belong.   So there was that feeling to get used to.

And of course, I had to figure out what my own dissertation was going to be on, to get used to working with my supervisor, to relearn my languages (that I may or may not have let slip while I was out of school), to adjust to the town, the accent, the culture, and everything else. 

All that said, it was a very long year, and I’m so glad that it’s over.  Thank you to all of you who wrote letters, emails, sent packages, and who supported me in other ways.  I am so very grateful for you. 

I’m very glad for the start of this new year.  For some reason there has been a lot of unforeseen heartache in my friends’ lives over the last month, both here and in the States, but all in all, it’s been a good month of running.  I’m tutoring in two different capacities this semester, one of which is for a New Testament History and Theology class here at St Mary’s, and the other is one-on-one tutoring with university students on basic study skills (time management, essay writing, exam preparation, etc.).  And, of course, my new living situation has given me what feels like a new lease on life.  I have a strong community with wonderful friends, some idea of what it is that I’m researching (though this is always a work in progress), a wonderful church that I love being a part of, and faithful friends and supporters back in the States telling me that I am exactly where I should be.

I have much to be thankful for at the start of this new academic year, and I look forward to all that I will learn and experience in the coming months.   

Give thanks to the Lord, for he is good.

                                      His love endures forever.

of Changes and Churches

Notice anything different here today?  I figured that since the Beartooth Mountains are no longer out my back door, I should probably update to a theme that attests to my current surroundings.  The new image background is of the Holy Trinity Church here in St. Andrews; and while I thought about replacing the Montana landscape with Scottish landscape, in so many ways the image of this church is the most befitting of my time and purpose here in the United Kingdom.

The most obvious reason, perhaps, is because I am studying for a PhD in Divinity, a field of study which deals directly with the Christian Church.  Students in my course are studying questions relating to all manners of theology, biblical studies, preaching and teaching, the function and nature of the church, etc.  Anything that regards Christianity around the world can be subsumed under the title of Divinity.

A second reason I find an image of a church befitting for my current position in life is because the degree I receive here will allow me to teach full-time at a Christian academic institution.  What does this have to do with the church?  I want to teach, I look forward to teaching, and I’ve been told I’m a gifted teacher.  But what really gets me excited about teaching is the idea that I can have an impact on the larger, more global Church through the classroom.  You may not be aware of it, but the Church in America is declining.  The United States used to be the “one nation under God,” the Christian nation that sent the most missionaries around the world, the nation where a majority percentage of the population attended church.  No longer is this the case.  Sunday morning attendance is in a free-fall.  Other nations are now sending their missionaries to the U.S..   In the past, if someone was not a church-attender or even a Christian, they still had a general awareness of the Bible and basic Christian doctrines.   Now churches are hard pressed to get even their own congregants to read Scripture, not to mention study Scripture. 

I’m convinced that if the Church in America is going to turn around at any point, it will be entirely dependent on the leadership.  If the pastor of a church is excited about their call to duty, is excited about what God is doing in the world all the way down to their congregation, and if the pastor is excited about teaching and preaching the Word of God, then his or her congregants will be as well.  Churches live or die depending on the leadership.  Where is there a better place to have an impact on the Church than in a Christian college teaching those soon-to-be pastors and missionaries about the greatest Truth of all time and the Scripture in which he has revealed himself?  I love studying the Bible, and have since I was twelve years old.  I’m here in St. Andrews because I want to be able to see young men and women become truly excited about the Bible and take that excitement into their lives of proclaiming the good news of Christ in America.

A final reason for an image of a Scottish church rather than Scottish landscape is along the same lines.  The Church in America is following in Europe’s path.  The Church in Europe has been struggling for the last couple hundred years. I’ve been told that only 3% of Europe’s population attends church on Sunday mornings.  That is not many people when you consider what influence the Church once had on this continent in the years up until the Enlightenment.  America is following right behind them.  This church, Holy Trinity Church is a living example of the state of the Church here.  One can imagine it being packed with attendees filling the pews from end to end.  Now, at least what I witnessed when I attended, the numbers are around fifty and whole pews sit empty on Sunday mornings. 

It’s because of churches in Europe and America like Holy Trinity that I want to teach.  It’s because of these churches and the revitalization they need that I am here in St. Andrews.  And it’s for the sake of the pastors who will lead these churches that I want a PhD.

Meet Duncan

The Walk to Work is a fair amount different now than it was when I wrote the post several weeks ago.  The sky no longer gives the glow of dawn and the cathedral is basked in the darkness and shadows of the night rather than the sunrays of a new day.  Such is life in the northern hemisphere.  It’s no different than home.  Just a sad day when it comes.

Remember Duncan, my new best friend that awaits my arrival every morning at the top of the stairs?  He’s still my new best friend.  And I have a sneaky feeling I’ll be spending more time with him over the next three years than with any other named entity.

So, meet Duncan - the place where I spend from 7am till 6pm every Monday through Friday (with the exception of a couple hours two days a week), and at least a half day on Saturdays.     

Well, Duncan, and the four other students who share Duncan with me. 

It’s a wonderful room that we have all to ourselves, not to mention the spacious desks that are all our own for the three years we are here.

Me.  For the next three years.



Walks to the Roundel might be dark in the mornings these days, but about an hour later, the sky begins to light up out the left window of the upper picture.  Some mornings are cloudy, others are bursting with color like I’ve not seen in years. 

Along with the vibrant colors, take note of the buildings AND the field in the distance.  Strange as it may sound, the view of this field is one of the greatest blessings of the entire study situation.  Something about the sight of that field, especially as it glows with the colors of harvest, gives the feeling of being in either Minnesota or Montana.  When feeling homesick, I need only stand at the window for a while, stand and stare. 

Ponderings

Yesterday was a pretty depressing day.  I was informed by St. Andrews that one of the relatively helpful scholarship schemes I had applied for was no longer being given out.  That leaves a total of three scholarships given out by the University of St. Andrews to three New Testament/Divinity students.  Three.  I am one of many.  How many,  I don't know, but many.  My chances of getting one of these three are slim.  Granted, my chances of getting into St. Andrews was slim and then being assigned to N. T. Wright was next to impossible, but still... I'm not confident that I will be chosen as one of these three scholarship recipients. 

I try not to think much about the decision awaiting me.  At this point, I don't have a clue what I should do.  What if Edinburgh offers me money and St. Andrews doesn't?  Do I do my PhD at Edinburgh for that reason and give up the honor of my career of working with Wright?  How much money is too much to borrow in student loans?  What is the wise thing to do and how great of a risk should I take?

What I need is an increased faith.  Faith that helps me to trust that God has brought me this far - he won't simply let me drift away now.  He has surprised me so many times in this process already... and the surprises might not be over. 

Hopefully I'll know in 2-4 weeks where my life is headed. 

On another note, here are a few random pictures from the last few weeks up here.  I went snowboarding for the first time ever, well... at least I went down the hill ten times or so.  Mind you, it's not a resort hill, so it took all of 20 seconds to go down, which is why I tried to draw it out a bit by spending so much time on the ground every twenty feet or so.  On two runs I made it down without falling and the rest were pretty major flops.  I'm excited to try it again!

Preparing to go for my first run!

Oh ya!

Jeff coming out of his house.  Completely buried.  When he shovels his roof now, he throws the snow UP!

There is nothing goofy happening with the perspective here... the snow banks really are THAT big!



Faint

St. Andrews, Scotland

Dear Haley,

The School's Postgraduate Committee met last week and will be proposing to the University's Admissions Office that you be offered a place on the PhD programme, commencing September 2011, with Professor NT Wright as your supervisor. Further details will be sent to you in due course, but I thought you would like to know the good news as soon as possible.

Kind regards,

"Postgraduate Admissions Secretary"

Application Update

Durham = Denied :(

That makes me 1 and 1 with 1 to go!

Follow-Up

As a follow-up to the post titled, "Merry Christmas to Me," I need to add that I am not automatically accepting the offer.  Currently I have completed applications under review at the University of St. Andrews in Scotland and Durham University in Durham, England.  When I hear back from these two schools, I will then have to wait to hear about sources for funding and the potential for receiving scholarships.  Hopefully by the end of January I will have letters of acceptance or rejection from the other two schools, but won't hear about funding until April sometime.  It seems a long time to wait!!!