After four amazing years in our Harbor, it’s time for my ship to set sail
In the spring of 2022, just months after having my first child (Beckham), I was connected with Jon and we chatted about me potentially applying to be a co-pastor of his online church. I met with Jon and thoroughly enjoyed the conversation—but boy was I skeptical at an online church. It sounded insane to me. Yet somehow curiosity and a warm feeling for this church won over, and a few months later in May of 2022 I found myself entering into a co-pastor team with Jon and Dawn.
And as many others have also experienced, once I was a part of the community, I got it. This scrappy mom-and-pop shop of the online church world was a place to share a belly laugh, settle in, and belong. It was a community of folks ready to dig deep into theology, investigate systems of harm, grow towards flourishing and justice for all and it was a community to truly get to know one another—from updates on car repairs, to hearing about “another” move, to cat and kid updates, this was a community that was and still is deeply invested in each other’s lives.
In 2022, I was astonished that this little online church was creating belonging for folks in such a radical way and I was lucky enough to be a part of it.
Harbor over the years
Over the last four years, the type of community I have been able to belong to at Harbor is nothing short of remarkable. I often tell people this little online church is one of core places where I feel like I can most be myself. There are few pockets of the world where I feel like I can truly let my walls down and be my full goofy, justice-seeking, Bible-loving, mom self. And Harbor time and time again has proven to be a little safe haven of joy and belonging for me. Anytime I’ve had big news and or a silly story, it’s Harbor that comes to mind as a place I want to share it.
Our intergenerational, queer, neurodivergent, cat-loving, spiritually seeking community has taught me so much of why we need these churches to exist.
We are a community that organizes mutual care, a community that rallies around others in lows and celebrates in highs, a community that cares about our ordinary mundane lives, a community that believes that justice and liberation for all is crucial to the flourishing of the whole, a community that seeks God’s mystery and is ready to be transformed by it, a community that both loves God-talk and hates-God talk and is willing to do it anyway. A community that has overcome spiritual trauma, deep wounds, deep cynicism, and is not willing for injustice to have the final word on what it means to be a church.
This is the community I have so sacredly belonged to these last four years.
And will in one way or another always belong to.
My life now
Life right now for me is what many here at Harbor would probably expect: full with the overstimulating joy of raising my kiddos Beckham (4) and Bradley (2) while pastoring both Harbor and an in-person church. As many of you know because you have graciously walked alongside me as I raise littles, work, and navigate my own health issues—it’s been a lot on my nervous system.
In addition, my childcare recently changed. As I tried to once again make the juggle for Harbor, the strain made me realize that I’m no longer able to pull it off, this Harbor/mom/another job juggle. My family needs less of me passing off the kids and hustling in between moments and more of me being with my “baby chicks” as I like to call them.
At the end of July my time as a Harbor co-pastor will come to an end. This decision comes with great sadness; I’m lamenting no longer working alongside Jon and Dawn, and not weekly being with you all—my dear community I love and cherish.
More words will be shared in the coming weeks. For now, know that this Harbor, our Harbor, has been a well of life for me. A place to settle, to cherish the community. To feel the love and grow amongst incredible folks.
