The Language of Tenacity by Christy Foldenauer

January 31st, 2012

I’ve been learning the language of tenacity in seminary this year. I’m enrolled in ancient Greek.

Many of you will understand when I tell you that two things make me crazy. The first is when a friend or well-meaning person says jokingly, “It’s all Greek to me!” The other is when I meet someone who actually has found the Greek language to be a breeze. Recently I met someone who makes his Christmas lists in Greek to keep his family from knowing what he is purchasing. Never mind that he took the language a decade ago. People like that confound me.

I am somewhere in the middle with this language. It’s not “all Greek” to me, but Greek has certainly not come with ease. As I prepare to enter a second semester, I’ve realized that my first semester of Greek taught me much more than just the language. It turns out that learning Greek is making me a better person, and a better mom.

If you are scratching your head at that one, let me first paint the picture of just how difficult the language has been for me. I remember sometime around the third week. I realized that I wasn’t “getting” any of what I’d read or learned so far. Nothing was taking root for me. I started to doubt my ability to succeed.

Week four brought my most embarrassing moment as a seminarian (to date), when I raised my hand to ask the translation of a word I hadn’t been able to decipher, despite my best efforts. The answer? Jesus. Seriously, the answer was Jesus. (Go ahead and laugh; it’s funny.) At this point, I decided Greek was really not going well.

I vividly remember a conversation with my husband about six weeks in to class. As I drove to school, I fought the urge to turn around. “I cannot do this anymore,” I told my husband, my voice laced with desperation. He assured me that not only could I do it, but I should. “This is not the time to give up,” he urged. I consented. I love that man.

There was the day that a sweet friend asked me at break how I was doing. Unable to control my own feelings of potential disastrous outcomes, I cried. Right there, in the third row of the classroom, sandwiched in between a young guy who had Greek undergrad and was floating through (he probably made his Christmas list in Greek, for all I know) and a man well past sixty who might have had an even harder time with the language than me, I got teary-eyed on my friend. I know she’s sorry she asked. That’s the thing about seminary–you can’t go there feeling anything but great and leave without being asked. Ministers-to-be have a homing device for hurting people. And I was hurting– suffering under the mighty weight of Greek.

But I gutted it out. And I’m going back for more. In the end, my grade proved that my round-the-clock study and hard work was worth the effort, and I am so much richer for taking on something that proved almost impossible.

For starters, I am a far more empathetic parent when my child struggles with a concept. My oldest child finds math as hard as I find Greek, but we’ve been bonding over our inadequacies. When I told him about the day I cried in class, he looked at me with new eyes. “Really??” he asked. “Really, yep, I did. I got that frustrated. Do you ever feel that way?” What followed was a heart understanding that would never have existed without Greek.

This experience has also been a chance to model for my kids that moms can (and should!) try difficult things. My daughter sees me managing our family dynamic and challenging school work. I wonder if one day she will do the same. My mother did, and I still remember grad school projects that consumed some of her evenings. Having goals and going for them is part of being a strong woman and a good example for my kids, as long as I can maintain some semblance of balance between home and school.

At the close of my first year of seminary, on my last paper in Old Testament, my professor noted that she appreciated my tenacity. How I’ve treasured those words. I hid them away in my heart, like Mary.

You see, I’ve thought of myself as audacious many times, but not really a tenacious woman. This professor helped to redefine the way I see my call and gifts, and learning Greek has continued to develop my tenacity.

So I am learning ancient Greek, and Greek is teaching me the language of tenacity. And those two new languages make all the effort worthwhile.

Christy Foldenauer is a speaker for retreats and services and a student at Baptist Theological Seminary in Richmond, Virginia. Learn about her ministry and read her blog.

Finding Mentors in Unexpected Places by Christy Foldenauer

June 18th, 2011

The first time I visited my seminary library, which is esteemed as one of the best in the country, I was underwhelmed. The problem wasn’t with the books, the organization, the staff, or the systems. Quite simply, I felt totally out of place.

Nevermind that my undergraduate work was over a decade ago. Nevermind that I couldn’t remember how library cataloging worked. I found these deficits surmountable, with a bit of work.

In the reading room where I settled in for several hours of work, I joined six men. Five of them could have been my grandfather. None of them acknowledged my presence.

“Where are all the women?,” I thought. Just then I saw one! She settled in to a seat in the library lobby, and through the glass doors, I could see her pull out a Christian romance novel. She checked her watch. She was waiting for her husband to finish his work.

I took a deep breath and hunkered down with a dark blue commentary to begin my first exegetical paper. Several moments later, my focus wandered, and I saw for the first time the exquisite oil paintings lining the upper half of the wall in the reading room. There were double-digit men. There was a painting of one woman. I felt for her.

Sometimes, I feel I am her.

When I have that feeling, I’ve learned to venture into the stacks. It seems unlikely that I’d stumble on women there, but I do! Loads of women! Their wisdom fills the pages of many books. Their insights are profound.

Last night alone I was mentored by a nun who spoke to me for an hour about creativity. I followed that up with a session about becoming a stronger woman with a counselor whose knowledge astounded me. She showed me things I’d never considered before. She asked me some very hard questions. I’m still grappling with her this morning, and glad I do not have to pay by the hour for her guidance. I’m meeting these women on the printed page, where they bare their souls and their passion spills out through their words. They are profound and gifted. They are gutsy and inspiring.

The women of the library may be less celebrated (for now) than their male counterparts, but their work is speaking to me. These brave women are mentoring me, though they may never know it. Their written work is shaping my ministry.

Yes, I’ve found my place at seminary, kneeling between the towering stacks. Perhaps one day I’ll also be found in their midst, as a woman with something to say to future generations.

Christy Foldenauer is a speaker for retreats and services and a student at Baptist Theological Seminary in Richmond, Virginia. Learn about her ministry and read her blog.

Mixing Motherhood and Seminary by Christy Foldenauer

March 1st, 2011

When I decided to enroll in seminary, it was with some trepidation. I wasn’t concerned so much about the academic requirements, or how I would manage biblical languages and exegesis. I was concerned for my ability to manage seminary with kids.

My husband and I have three children, ages six, four, and two. I reminded God as I moved through the application process at Baptist Theological Seminary at Richmond of the three little ones counting on my kisses and love, my presence. Could I really add seminary, even part time, into the mix?

I have encouraging news: Moms can not only survive, but thrive in seminary. Here are three reasons women with children should not wait for an empty nest to pursue a seminary education:

1.) Multi-tasking is already second nature. When the syllabus is distributed in class, I know that I will juggle it alongside a full life. In my first semester of seminary, my youngest battled prolonged stomach woes, my middle child broke her arm, and my oldest ventured into first grade and had homework that required my attention. It was tough! I’ve learned to start early on my own assignments, so that I am assured of finishing on time no matter what comes my way. Seminary isn’t my whole life, it is one part of my life, and ultimately that brings a healthy balance.

2.) Moms appreciate seminary as an opportunity to pursue a personal passion. Let’s face it, moms spend hours pursuing the things that are important to their children, from ballet to basketball. Moms are there because their children are important to them, and so they purposefully enter their children’s world. For me, seminary is an opportunity to enter a world that is mine. Because it is a passion, learning gives me great joy. In turn, I am a better mother.

3.) A mother’s presence will challenge, and even change, peer perceptions. My laptop screen saver rotates through pictures of my kids. Occasionally, the pictures scroll at seminary. It never fails that I am approached by someone following the class who asks, “How many kids do you have again?” and then, “And you’re here, doing this?” I have become aware through these conversations that my presence in the classroom is shifting the paradigm of many soon-to-be-ministers.  I am helping to shape the way they will relate to moms in ministry. It motivates me not only to continue, but to bring my best every day.

So to all the moms out there, let me encourage you to follow God’s call, wherever God leads. I’ve heard it said, “God calls us in spite of our circumstances.” I would tweak that a bit: God calls us because of our circumstances. God is well aware of our situation and demands. If God calls you to seminary, God will sustain you there. What a promise!

Christy Foldenauer is a speaker for retreats and services and a student at Baptist Theological Seminary in Richmond, Virginia. Learn about her ministry and read her blog.