Recently I was talking to a fellow single woman in ministry about how easy it can be to feel left out. My family of origin is hundreds of miles away, and the husband and children I always hoped for have yet to materialize. The culture of the American South, particularly as it is expressed in the church, often focuses exclusively on the nuclear family. Where does that leave those of us who don’t fit that model?
Nearly seven years ago when I accepted my first permanent full-time ministry position, I believed that the opportunity to pursue my calling to be a hospital chaplain was too good to pass up. When I had imagined this part of my life, the thought of moving to a new city alone never crossed my mind. I assumed that by the time I finished seminary and was ordained, I would, of course, be married. But to paraphrase John Green, it turns out the world is not a wish-granting factory. Life doesn’t always go the way we planned. I’m starting to wonder whether it ever does.
So I moved to Charleston, South Carolina, where I knew no one, and began a stressful new job. My biological family was mostly in Kentucky and Virginia, and I was leaving the friends I had made during seminary and residency. Those first few months were pretty lonely.
Thankfully, I was welcomed by a wonderful church, whose pastor had been alerted to my presence by mutual acquaintances and who reached out to me, since we were practically neighbors anyway. The people of Providence Baptist Church took me in, and I eventually began to feel at home. As I settled in to my new job at the hospital, I started forming relationships with other staff members there as well. All of us were dealing with crisis and death every time we came to work, and learning to handle it all together, we formed strong bonds. Through hobbies and social events, I met other new people and discovered things we had in common. Little by little, my circle grew.
As I was reminded recently, friends are the family we choose. It still isn’t easy sometimes, feeling left out of the “traditional” family model. Yet my life is wonderfully enriched by this patchwork family I have chosen: the people at church who bring me homemade soup when I’m sick, the seminary classmates far away who send me encouraging cards and emails because they understand how difficult it can be to pursue this calling we all have, the girlfriends who invite me over for dinner or to play cards and just laugh, the coworkers who can tell when I’m having a tough shift and offer me a listening ear and a shoulder to cry on, and the dog who welcomes me home every night with tail wags and happy noises. They are all family to me, a manifestation of the love of God. I’m so thankful for each and every one of them.
