What did my interview with Margee Iddings help me realize?

Ecclesiastes 9 reveals that, "Two are better than one, because they have a good reward for their toil. ¹⁰For if they fall, one will lift up the other; but woe to one who is alone and falls and does not have another to help.....A threefold cord is not quickly broken."

In my reflections from my interview with Margee, my mind came back to this text, especially the last line, "a threefold cord is not quickly broken." Throughout Margee's interview, as she shared names of those who pushed and encouraged her to take next steps in life and ministry, my mind was full of the memories of those who challenged and encouraged me along the way. Life in the church wasn't a logical step for me so, along with my personality and gender reality, I needed all the encouragement to take my own steps to take on the Jesuit Volunteer Corps, Union and ordination. I am part of many and have realized that my only way to be human is to have other reflect their humanity back at me. Depth. I need it. I need myself (that's one cord), another (the second cord), and the Holy (the third cord). At certain moments, at particular times, I have been bound by depth of relationship and strong encouragement. Because I am the relational type, I need to share a short list of those who have been part of my cord (this is where I get to write about the men in my life):

• David Woodyard: my theological mentor from Denison University. I took "Reality of God" with Dr. Woodyard and it rocked my word in the best of ways. This was my first exposure to Liberation, Black, and Feminist Theology. Woodyard's encouragement came from his looks--strong, silent and loving. Woodyard told me, through his eyes, that I have what it takes for Union and there is no other seminaryo out there for me.
  
• One of my holy roomates from Denison, Sara Roman: When my parents literally told me, "you are not doing the Jesuit Volunteer Corps. How will you live? You aren't doing it," Sara told me, "You are doing it. You are just going to do it." That was all I needed to hear.
• Eduard Loring of the Open Door Community in Atlanta, Georgia: Eduard told me I needed to lose my life to find it and step away from a life of priviledge and embrace the life of faith. Extracting myself from my bouregois life was painful (I have three years of therapy in NYC to prove the pain) but Eduard was persistent in helping me deconstruct and contruct a life outside the bounds of bouregois-ness.
• Adam Clark, hallmate in Hastings Hall, 7th Floor, Union. After a devastating phone call with my dad that left me feeling like life was caving in, I somehow managed to make it out of my dorm room and head to the 7th floor kitchen. There was Adam making dinner and I was sniffing away the tears. Adam calmly said, "Ash, what's wrong?" I spilled my guts to Adam and I've always felt that was an emotional turning point for me. Dr. Liberation Theology (that's Adam) pulled out all the pastoral skills and listened with holy-like ears. I forged ahead.
• Larry Rasmussen, professor of ethics at Union. Larry was my thesis advisor at Union as I focused on incarcerated women and moral agency. My field ed at Union was visiting women at Riker's Island, the NYC jail, and Bedford Hills, the maximum security prison for women in NY state. I submitted my first chapter for review to Larry and he gave me the most amazing feedback, telling me if I kept up the work I could get distinction on my thesis. I was over the top. It was Fat Tuesday. I celebrated by pouring Larry a beer from the keg that was in James Chapel that night. I ended up getting distinction on my thesis.
  
• Bobby. My husband. Every time I turn into some type of emotional hurricane, Bobby reminds me that "we will figure this out. That's what we do. That's our story."
  

I have been broken at many moments, wondering what's next. But these three fold cords (along with the women in this blog) shore me up so I'm not broken. These people have called forth something within me that created space to heal, be empowered, and step forward.

___________________________________________________________
At the end of my conversation with Margee, we created pictures/collages that represented our time together.

To the left is the table where our conversation took place. To the right, our pictures.

Margee picked the tree picture b/c it's an image of a mature tree, putting down roots and greeting the dawn. Margee said she is waiting for her "dawn," yet acknowleding her rootedness in each new day. The picture to the right has a road, showing she is still unfolding; knowing and growing on the road. The other words represent nothing stopping her from making her voice heard, she is still working on a vision for the future (herself, Pilgrims, the Church). The forget-me-nots represent Margee's wondering, "will anyone remember me when I'm gone?"

My picture is of a quilt, showing the threads and connections I felt between Barbara and Margee. I also have the words "you can do this" and "undercurrent." Undercurrent represents Union and other experiences taking me to the undercurrent of the Church, the Church of the lowly as the Apostle Paul would call it. I also have "I hate superficiality." Barbara made this statement. Margee longs for depth in relationships. I seek depths from the inside out.

I close with this poem by Stephanie Kaza in Woman Prayers: Prayer by Women from Throughout History and Around the World. Margee bought me this book.

Let go of the place that holds,
Let go of the place that flinches,
Let go of the place that controls,
Let go of the place that fears.
Just let the ground support me.
Listen, the wind is breathing in the trees.
Sensing the edge of soft and hard,
I follow the unseen path.
Walking in the dark night,
I practice faith,
Building confidence in the unknown,
Walking in the dark night,
I practice courage,
accepting the vastness
of what I cannot see.