There's been a lot going on in these months of blog silence, and it's finally time to open the doors and share recent developments. It is a frustrating mess of God using CRM's failings to lead me to something new, so this is my attempt to explain - not to blame - not to gloss over - but to share the process as it unfolded.
-Two years ago (Spring 2011): I was asked to lead Urban Mosaic. I was floored and honored and excited to experiment and give it a shot. I saw my role being that of bringing structure and focus to a wandering, poorly-defined team. I jumped in and crafted vision and calling statements, thinking that with clarity would come teamwork.
-Fall 2011: I finished directing the Global Urban Trek with Intervarsity in Lima. That had been a significant source of structure for me over the past 5 years, giving an annual cycle and set of objectives that integrated well with my commitment to poor urban communities worldwide. I planned to enter more exclusively into CRM and let my volunteered time with Intervarsity wane. It seemed like God was pointing me to deeper local investment in San Diego.
-Winter 2011/ Spring 2012: I explicitly asked for more supervision from CRM. I knew that I needed more direction and help in implementation. Meanwhile, my financial support started to sag. My leaders told me to focus on getting married, and we'd sort through team stuff later.
I got married, and continued to flounder in way too much freedom to do "whatever." I had plenty of coaching (fundraising, team building, and staff care), but no true supervisor-- no one setting objectives, strategies and markers with me. When I asked repeatedly for help in figuring out what to do next, I was told to believe in my vision and "go for it."
-Summer - Fall 2012: staff conference and the death of multiple ministry initiatives. Christian saw with me in Estes Park just how alone we were in our ChurchNEXT collective. It was sobering and painful, but we still believed we were there to be contagious-- to affect other ministries with the witness of doing what we do in the city among the marginalized. And then at the end of the summer, the few solid projects I had invested in fell apart due to church politics, weak volunteer leadership, and changing priorities. Again, here I was with low funding, minimal supervision, and honestly not a lot to do from day to day. I started asking (God and myself) if it really had to be this way. I started praying and dreaming about where I might actually be more effective for the Kingdom, whether on another ministry team or in a completely different field.
And then I found out I was pregnant. I felt that I was at a critical point in my conversations with my leaders, and that I needed to move the ball further before introducing pregnancy into the equation. I didn't want the same delay that happened when I got married ("Just focus on this first, then we'll figure out the other stuff."). But it was becoming clear that CRM leaders didn't have the bandwidth to actually LEAD in the way I needed. I began to think a transition (either within CRM or leaving staff) was coming, but that the responsible thing to do would be to remain on staff until after having a baby and see what doors God might open. After all, I had just gotten Christian added to my insurance policy in September. We would make it work, so at least we would be insured.
A few weeks later (late October), I got a confusing staff budget email that mentioned a change in benefits eligibility. I made desperate phone calls and met in person with my division leader that week. There were few answers about the logistics of how the health insurance change would work, but it was clearly a quick and final decision: as of January 1, because of my low salary level, I would be designated a part-time employee, ineligible for benefits. I made it clear to the organization's leaders that I understood their rationale, but not the failure to respectfully inform us of what was going on. If there were truly just 6 of us who lost coverage, how hard was it to make a phone call? They assumed that we would be fine and that we had other options. And they assumed that it doesn't matter whether you're designated a full- or part-time employee. They just decided that would be the patch for their screw-up (a very long story about employee health insurance eligibility), and that it would work for now. They kept telling me they were "still working on it", but it was apparent that nothing was going to change enough for me to have affordable health coverage for having a baby (my "pre-existing condition"). We had almost no options, but God provided: I qualified for Medi-Cal, and Christian's new job would offer him health insurance starting in May.
I don't want to skim over everything before the health insurance mess, because it was all part of leading up to my break with CRM. Ironically, the policy change threw everything into sharp relief, but it wasn't necessarily new. It just made it clear that it was no longer worth it. I had long felt disrespected and somewhat overlooked/ left alone. In 4 years no one ever visited my ministry context or offered hands-on evaluation of the things I worked on. My leaders did not fight for me-- they said nice, encouraging things, but did not put up a fight on my behalf. They failed to offer me the respect of even discussing with me a policy change that screwed my family. Finally, they failed to take actions that would result in justice. They chose to cut off from benefits those in the organization making the least amount of money. I don't care if most of those people had already opted out of CRM insurance; in the bigger scheme of things it's just wrong.
Any of that alone, I'd just deal with and fight through. No organization is perfect. But if I'm going to be an invested mother, a loving wife, and a servant of God in the city, I don't have time or energy for CRM's bullshit, and it was taking too much away from those priorities. I should not have had to struggle that much to lead myself and figure out what to do. I should have been able to trust that my leaders would look out for me and at least inform me of significant changes. My decision to leave boiled down to broken trust, poor leadership, and unjust corporate decisions.
On the upside, I feel greater freedom in the ways I'm living out my calling than I ever have. Life is ministry/ ministry is life... so leaving CRM really is about the job and the paycheck at this point, and I know God has something better in store. Forgiveness is a process: I have let go some of these wounds, while others still rankle. But I have made my peace. I realized that certain things about CRM will not change, which is a shame, and it means that it is not a place where I can continue to work.
If you have read this long treatise, you are clearly an invested partner! I felt that you had the right to know this part of my story and rationale, because I hate it when endings are left hazy and unclear. My four and a half years on staff were also full of opportunity, adventure, and growth, and I don't hesitate to say that the time was a gift. Indeed, it probably required this level of disappointment to break off my relationship to CRM that was originally built on such fondness. So the seasons change... with both grief and hope for what's to come.