I Love My Life

I love my life, not because of my accomplishments,
(there have been some)
but for my failures.
(those are what shaped me)
I love my life not because it has been easy.
In fact, it has been very hard much of the time.
(Yet I have persevered, survived, prevailed, triumphed).

I love my life because I know there are a few who love me,
and will no matter what.
(my husband and children do; and some friends, a few)
I don’t need to be remembered afterward
(as much as being loved during, and believe I am.)

None of my life has been remotely perfect,
But mostly broken, disappointed, hurt;
Yet something in my faith, and in me,
keeps getting resurrected. New life, new beginning.

I won’t mind so much when it’s over, I don’t think,
Because I’m so confident of what comes after.
I have always been and will ever be,
among the redeemed, the everlasting.
(or so it seems to me).

A Gift On My Desk

This morning there was a framed picture on my desk. It was a very thoughtful gift---a picture of me on the occasion of the first time preaching to this congregation. It was left anonymously, but I am sure I know who did it, because of the vantage point from which the picture was taken. It is oriented from a position near where the organist sits. I am sure she is the one. The organ, by the way, seems to have a couple of hundred pipes. The Senior Pastor is sitting to the right.

What you cannot see is that I am standing on a wooden platform which they provided, out of concern that I would not be seen above the top of the pulpit, due to my short stature. I was a little worried that in one of my excited hand waving moments I might fall off of the platform, which would have been very humiliating. But I managed to stay centered. Next time I do not think I will use it. I am sure they will still be able to see my head. That is all they really need to see.

The choir is overhead. They are really awesome. But I cannot see the choir at all. Too bad!

Hymnals

Today at work I discovered that the church I serve has the softbound hymnal, Sing the Faith. It is ninety five percent the same as the similar supplemental hymnal in my own denomination.

As I thumbed through the small familiar book, I felt a huge longing to play and sing those familiar hymns that I love. Since I'm not much of a singer, the longing seemed to be about playing them. Music, of course, touches us at some deep place within our souls.

As I played the hymns in my mind, there was definitely a congregation there singing them.

Honestly, I played out in my imagination a whole scene. It was a church of twenty five or so faithful saints, with me playing the hymns, Gerry doing the other parts of the service and me preaching. That somehow seemed like a very satisfying scene to imagine. Playful thinking, I might call it. Nothing more than that.

But who knows? Who knows? God knows. God knows.

Lunch With A Friend

I had lunch with a young friend today. We worked together several churches ago. She was a super duper cracker jack office manager and Christian Education person! I was so fortunate to have her while I was there! She was creative, ambitious, organized, committed, had a Master's Degree and was everything anyone would want in a staff person. We got along wonderfully. I'll just call her Leah, for anonymity.

Leah and I only had one issue where our values were at odds. She was and is a "green" person, big on re-cycling. I have only one big pet peeve and that is not having cardboard boxes laying around on the floor in the church. (they tend to multiply like rabbits!) Leah always had a big cardboard box in the office in order to re-cycle all the paper. You see, I simply did not want the first thing a person saw when they opened the door to the church office to be a big box. As I recall, we had a friendly re-negotiation of the re-cycling/cardboard box dilemma. In the end, we kept both, but her cardboard box was stored under her desk out of view.

We are still quite good friends to this day, keeping in touch, and having lunch from time to time. I am almost old enough to be her mother (if I had gotten an early start) so I think our friendship is special, despite the age difference. My daughter Yo used to babysit her children.

It was good to connect with Leah today and hear about her family and their hopes and plans for the future. And I do hope that things work out exactly as she envisions!

Family Get Togethers

We so enjoyed a family lunch at Brenda's yesterday. She cooked a delicious late lunch for us, which was more than adequate to cover dinner! There was a delicious homemade soup, homemade bread, cheese, grapes, crackers, cucumbers, and extravagant homemade brownies.

Emma is now three years old, and Sadie is soon celebrating her first birthday, happening in a couple of weeks---another family event. There were seven of us there yesterday, which was really wonderful. Got a chance to see the lovely grandchildren, and their equally lovely parents! It was also fun to catch up with things going on with Michelle. She and her fiance have planned a March trip to Spain, to visit his parents. I was pleased to learn that Michelle reads my blog.

Grandchildren. Good food and family. The best of life!

Preaching

There was an article in today's paper about the stereotyping of professions. Sometime that stereotyping is by political leanings. Professors, journalists, and artists tend to be more liberal. Law enforcement, doctors and the military tend to be more conservative. Or, sometimes a profession is stereotyped according to gender. Nursing, for example, is 'gender typed' and generally perceived to be a woman's job.

When I googled "preaching" I learned that "preachers" must still be very much gender typed toward male. There were dozens and dozens of images of men preaching, but I could not find even one of a woman behind a pulpit. Therefore, the pulpit I have used for this blog is empty. There are certainly plenty of women preachers; but google has not yet caught up.

Today I preached for the first time in my new interim assignment. When I am preaching, I feel the most alive, the most aligned, the most satisfied. I don't know that I would say that I was "born to preach", because I'm not sure that we are born for just one thing. And I think we are called to different tasks at different times in our lives. For me, later in life, after much preparation and falterings, I come to preaching. I don't think I'm the world's best preacher or anything close to it. But I do believe that I come to my task with passion and conviction.

I know that I come to it with great intensity and joy.

For whatever reasons, people always respond to my preaching with great appreciation. And for that I am grateful.

My Church Collection

I have a church collection. I bought the first one in 1989 when I went to visit my seminary. It is pictured here. It is made of wood and has a wind up key that plays 'Amazing Grace'. While the song is playing the doors open slowly. There was a little bald man inside in black cleric clothes. Because I wanted it to be me as the pastor of that church, I glued brown yarn to his head making him a her. Eventually, I grew into being her!

Over the years, I added a few churches to my collection, the idea being to find churches made of different materials--wood, metal, glass. They are actually not that easy to find. When you do find them, they tend to have a Christmas theme and be made of ceramic.

Once I wrote an article in a church newsletter about my church collection, never thinking what that would trigger. Every gift for the next few years at Christmas was a ceramic church. They are all quite lovely, but I do have more than I can display in my home. Our current house does have a shelf above a set of windows, and that has been designated for my church collection. Probably my most expensive one is made of stained glass, and interestingly I bought that one the weekend that I graduated from seminary, quite a few years after the initial one. Most of them have a specific memory attached to them.

In much the same way, first as pastor and then interim pastor, I have collected churches into my life---big ones, little ones, country ones, surburban ones, small town ones, rural ones. They have been made of cinderblock, wood, stone, brick. They have been old and new, as well as some combination of those two.

And like my collection, no two are the same. They are all unique and have a different story. Just like the people inside!

On Visitation

A significant part of my new job is visitation---home/hospitality visits (of the get acquainted kind), hospital and homebound visits. The senior pastor here says that visitation is definitely not his gift and is very grateful to have someone to pick up that task. I also know from personal experience that visitation is simply not something that a senior pastor has much time to do. There are many many other concerns in a given week, from funerals to meetings, from worship preparation to interacting with parishioners on the business of the church.

Now that I do not have all those other concerns, I find that I am enjoying visitation more than ever! I never disliked it; just always felt the pressure of so many things to do. Yesterday I visited Grace and Russ, ninety and ninety three. Grace seems more like she is thirty. She has this to say:

It is not how old you are, but how you are old.

I am going to try to take that to heart. She is inspirational; lively, engaging, interested in the world and people, cheerful. This, despite having to do a lot of home care for her husband, who is in a wheelchair. They do have home health aids that come in to help, but I know that there are times when it must be physically challenging for her. She is a tiny little thing, and he is a very tall man. They had lifts under the feet of the couch to make it higher, and easier for him to stand. When I sat on the couch next to him, my feet dangled about two feet from the floor!

It was fascinating that despite having lived ninety three years, it seemed that the four most significant years of his life, which his wife said he always wanted to talk about, were his years in North Africa and Italy during World War II. In fact, he gave me his memoir to read, about those years. He served with General Patton!

I actually think that the older folks enjoy having an older pastor visit. Perhaps the biggest surprise to me is how much they appreciate it!

Come to think of it, visiting is fast becoming a dying art. What a loss!

Evolving Dreams

As a child, I was an avid reader, reading most novels in the local library. It is out of that experience that the dream arose that I would someday be a writer, a published writer, the writer of a novel. Over six months in 2008-2009, I did write a novel. I found it to be a very solitary and somewhat lonely activity. I am no longer sure that is how I want to spend all my time.

I said in my blog a few days ago that "all my dreams have come true." Most have, for sure. But I am discovering that dreams evolve; they do not necessarily take the shape or form you might have first envisioned.

Like most women, I dream of being slender, which I am not. That dream has not been fully realized (though there is always hope). As I age, I would gladly give up my size eight dream any day to be healthy and disease free. There is nothing better than that, and I am grateful for very good health, at least so far!

And as for "being published", for a long time, I have had an audience, hearers, or readers. When I preach, there are always people there to hear my sermons. Sermons have been printed, taped and shared, uploaded onto the internet, read and heard. That is the same end goal as being published.

Now, I share my thoughts daily and some people actually do read them. I could never have imagined having so much fun! It is infinitely better than writing a novel!

All I have to do is to press the button that says "publish" and away it goes.

Dream in a different form, but same dream, nonetheless!

The Literary Club

As an invited guest, today I attended a Ladies Literary Club. I've never been to such a gathering before. Usually, it is hosted in members' homes. A church member who belongs to the club chose to host in the church lounge, since her home was not adequate for the gathering. Thus, my invitation. About half of the women were from our church.

This club actually began in 1880! It was a strong reminder that reading was the primary activity for many folks, especially prior the advent of modern day technology. A report on tonight's evening news outlined how much time today's youth spend on facebook, cell phones, texting, twittering, watching television, playing video games, etc. All of those ranged from one and a half to six hours. The average time per day that a young person reads is 38 minutes.

There's nothing better than reading a good book. On the other hand, in the past few months, I had the experience of reading some really lousy books. When finished, I wondered what the point was, and wish I had stopped reading much earlier.

Perhaps the purpose of a literary club is that good books are reviewed and recommended. At least they were today. Two presenters read their "papers" [which each member has to write] about their favorite author. I learned of a new contemporary writer who sounds promising.

It is remarkable to me that this club has a history of one hundred and thirty years! Something about the whole experience was reminiscent of another era, when life was slower, easier, less complicated.

And they even brought out the good silver, too!

From Famine to Feast

The first year of my retirement I was working much of the time, postponing my real experience of what retirement is like. For the past six months, I have had a taste of that. I don't really mind my own company; I can always enjoy reading a good book; it's fun to have lunch with family members or friends. However, I discovered that I have been in a "famine" of people interactions. There hasn't been enough, and I've missed that!

Since I have been working again for the past two weeks, I moved from serious famine to serious feast! Every day there are various groups of people gathered at the church for some task or function [collating the newsletter; bell choir working on a song, literary ladies, etc.] and I try to greet them. My routine includes morning office hours, a stop by the hospital on the way home for lunch. Often there is someone there to visit. Then I usually have a visit or perhaps more scheduled for the afternoon. Suddenly I have a feast of people in my life.

Here's the church and here's the people. And when you mix the two, you get food! There's that kind of feast as well, unfortunately! Thursday night dinners, Choir Party, coffee hours, Sunday soup and salad, and so forth. That makes for a significant challenge to eat as healthy as one is determined. Food has always been an occupational hazard for ministry. But I think I've discovered that I need the company of people more than I thought I would.

If only I could manage to have a food famine and a people feast!

Dream Book

I always keep a dream book, in which I write down my hopes, goals, dreams. Honestly, most of my dreams have all come true. I once wanted to serve a specific kind of church, and was appointed to one just like the description in my dream book. I had a long list of desires in the house we would someday buy, and I now live in a house with every feature. Taking my children to Disney was on the list, and I did that the month after I retired.

There are not very many things on my dream list any more simply because most of them have been checked off. There is one thing, however, that has not come my way, nor even close. Gerry and I have been playing tennis together for years. He taught me. We have from time to time played mixed doubles. He plays doubles with several men's groups, and I am always jealous. But I have never ever played with a women's doubles group.

In church on Sunday, I mentioned to someone that I play tennis, though I do not remember who it was. She said that she knew a group of four women who play. I told her I would love to be on their substitute list. I do not know the names of the women who play, nor the name of the woman who told me about them. There are so many people, and so many names I do not know. All I can do is hope that one day, that dream will also be fulfilled, and I'll get connected with a women's tennis doubles group.

If the rest of my life/dreams/hopes is any indication, then that will also one day come my way. Or at least, I certainly hope so!

I'll wait patiently for that day.

First Official Sunday

Today was my first official Sunday, on the chancel at my new church. I attended the early service, the later service, and the afternoon service at a local assisted living home. There, I mostly observed because I will be leading that service there next month. Next week, I will preach for the first time to the congregation.

I don't think you could possibly find two people with more different preaching styles than me and the senior pastor. He has his sermon in his head. He never writes anything down, not even an outline, as far as I can tell. Today he did three different versions of the sermon in his head, and each version came out somewhat different. It is remarkable the way he just speaks extemporaneously. I would say that he is very gifted in that way. In fact, today's scripture was about how we all have different gifts. My gift, which I believe God claimed to be used in service to the church, is writing. As a writer, I always have a written sermon. I spend a lot of time preparing and polishing the written word. In delivery, I glance at it from time to time, and surely do not have every word committed to memory.

Perhaps my style will be a new experience for the congregation. I hope it will be well received. I trust it will be.

I also imagine that this particular combination of pastoral gifts is the work of the Spirit, given for the common good.

May it be to the benefit of all!

Wedding Preparation Day

Today is devoted exclusively to Yo and Matt's wedding preparation. Mostly it is a day that has to do with food. We attended a tasting at the Lodge, the location where the wedding is taking place in the fall. At this tasting, there were probably ten tables of groupings, all families with weddings scheduled in the upcoming months. The purpose of the tasting is to select which items you want to choose for the reception. We had a variety of appetizers, two types of salads, and four kinds of entrees. Of course, there was one steak plate, divided among six people, so it is not as much food as it may seem. Yo and Matt are serious "foodies", and are really 'into' all those details.

While we have been to Matt's parents' home a number of times over the years, this will be the first time we have hosted them in our home for dinner, so I am very glad that is taking place. Hopefully, everyone will be ready to eat, when the time comes.

I also hope that we will get a chance to do some other wedding related things while they are all here....like discuss the ceremony, address envelopes, etc. I'm the officiant, but want to make sure we are all operating with the same assumptions.

It is hard to imagine going through all this kind of wedding preparation unless everyone is comfortable together, which we all are. Yo and Matt have been together for six years now. Their wedding will be elegant. The ceremony will include elements of both faiths--hers is Christian, his is Jewish.

Thankfully, I bought a good book which describes the details of both. I expect it will be the kind of wedding where every family member has a part. That's the best kind.

More on that over time.

On Love and Liberty

I attended an event at church last night and the speaker was telling of Matilda Joslyn Gage's contribution to women's suffrage. I am sorry to say that I was unaware of the details of her lifetime of activism for women's rights. I certainly should have known, since she was from the community where I lived and served just prior to retirement. Don't know how I missed that.

A couple of things stood out to me. One is the impact of her experience with Native Americans in the Onondaga Nation tribe. It was from them that she witnessed a model of a matriarchial society where women were equal in their power to men. In fact, it was the women who voted on whether or not the men would go to war. (What a great idea!) When the statue of liberty was dedicated in the 1800's, she said it was the greatest hypocrisy of all times, that a woman would represent liberty in a country where women did not have any rights at all! (not winning the right to vote until 1920).

Unlike others in the women's suffrage movement, Gage was a strong believer in the separation of church and state. So am I, though our reasons are different. There was a movement early on in the life of our nation to try to make this a Christian nation, by constitutional amendment. That would mean, of course, that one would have to prosecute all those of differing beliefs and practices, which would have immediatley rendered America completely without liberty. In fact, as a mandated Christian nation, we would be not unlike Iran, Iraq, Afghanistan, rigidly ruled by one religion with strict religious laws.

It is kind of interesting to think that in order to really be free, an individual has to be able to choose, messy as that is! If there is no choice in the matter of religion, there is no liberty. It is no different with God and creation. The offspring could choose to obey or not.

Love allows the freedom to choose, and only the freedom of choice permits liberty.

So I suppose, in the end, true liberty is a matter of love! Interesting thought!

Thougths About My Dad

When I was in my early twenties, I did not yet really have a sense of who I was. It would take me a decade to figure that all out. But I was in my early twenties when I lost my Dad. As the child without a fully formed identity, I had not yet started to relate to him as an adult, and that has always been a great regret in my life. When he died in an automobile accident, he was in his early fifties. He also was a United Methodist minister. There are so many things I wish I knew about him, but as an adult, I never got a chance to ask.

My parents had a pretty turbulent marriage, at least some of the time. When one is a child and feels in the middle of all that, you tend to think that somebody must be the good guy and somebody must be the bad guy. I could never figure out who that was. As an adult, of course, I now know the deeper subtleties and sadnesses and paradoxes of life. They probably both had insecurities and issues, as we all do. But truthfully, the emotional baggage of my parents' chaotic marriage caused some distance between them and me. I always felt like the little girl lost in the shuffle.

My Dad has been gone now for over forty years, so I don't think of him all that often. I lost my mother much more recently.

My Dad's ministry was cut short and he was still a relatively young man when he died. My call to ministry was later in life, unlike his. He started off in his twenties, both going to seminary and having a family at the same time.

Although I certainly would not have thought about it that way when I felt called, perhaps in some strange, circular, providential way, God's call in my life completes my father's. Who knows? Maybe there is a direct connection between the twenty years I have enjoyed in ministry and the ones he missed out on. That thought has occurred to me.

His ministry in Mississippi in the forties through the sixties, and mine in New York in the 20th and 21st century could not be more different. Radically different context, culture, geography, era. However, same Gospel. Same Lord!

I suppose one really never outgrows being the child when it comes to your parents. Still, to this day, the prevailing thought I have about my father is----I hope he is proud of me!

License Plates

I was thinking about license plates this morning. A couple of years ago, Gerry and I both got vanity plates, license plates where the car owner chooses a desired sequence of letters and numbers (within reason). One can do that in New York State, and presumably other places as well.

Gerry's and mine are quite different, but what struck me for the first time today is how both of us have license plates that bear witness to both our identity and our faith.

Gerry's plates say: SKI 121. He is an avid skier. It is his passion, and particularly at this stage of his life. He enjoys the outdoors, the physical activity and the comraderie. SKI speaks to his passion. 121 refers to the 121st Psalm, known as the skiers psalm, because it says "I will lift up my eyes to the hills, from whence my help comes. My help comes from the Lord, who makes heaven and earth." He often gets an opportunity to witness to his faith through his license plate!

My license says REV NR11. The REV is, of course, my title and it is because of my faith that I ultimately came to be known by that title. NR are initials, and the 11 is what I call my special number. Others would probably call it their"lucky" number. Since I believe instead in God's providence, I try not to use that term. The number 11 has always been associated with good things, very good things, in my life. To name just two, it is the day of Gerry's birth, and it is the day of our wedding anniversary. That is certainly one of the most important dates in my life.

Being loved by Gerry actually taught me a lot about the love of God. Specifically, he was able to overlook my faults and love me anyway. By both Gerry and God, I have been loved, forgiven, encouraged. They have been steadfast, faithful, patient. How blessed I am!

The Weight of the Keys

As I was driving in to my first day of a new pastoral position, I was reminded of other first days of work in the churches where I served as pastor. The first church I served, while I was a lay speaker, not yet really clergy at all, they actually handed me the set of keys to the church! I was shocked and amazed that they would turn their church right over to me like that! There in my hand was total access. And, of course, I would continually learn, weighty responsibility.

The next time I moved to serve a church, fully ordained, fully prepared, fully clergy, on the first day, there were the keys. Usually there were a number of them. A key to the outside door. A key to the office, a master key, etc. etc. It seemed that each time I received a set of keys, they got heavier and heavier. A key to the furnace room, a key to the elevator, a key to the room with the safe. Eventually, I learned to keep my car and house key separate, and the church keys on a ring together. Most of the time, they were in my pocket, as I was constantly going in and out of somewhere. For those days when my clothing didn't have any pockets, I still had to carry the keys everywhere. There was a purple stretchy plastic coil around the key-ring which I could wear on my arm, if need be.

This morning I wondered about the keys. When I retired, I was so happy to give up the very heavy bunch of keys, which had come to represent to me the burden of full responsibility. Now, as an associate pastor with a part time job, I secretely hoped the job would come without a heavy set of keys. When I came back into the main office just before noon, there was a discussion about how I would gain access to the building. I was very pleased to receive just one key. It gives me access to all the outside doors. I don't yet know where those multiple outside doors are located; I just know that I can gain access. Good feeling. Also glad not to know about the furnace and elevator. For now at least.

I have no doubt that there will be plenty of responsibility. I am very glad to have a supporting role and not be the one in charge.

The one key seemed just about right! It also seemed like a metaphor for a new relationship with the church, a new role, a new beginning.

I know that it is going to be fun!

On Being Introduced

This morning is the day that I was to be introduced to the congregation I will serve for the next six months or however long. (Along with Gerry, of course, as we always come as a team.) Everyone greeted us warmly, even before they actually realized that I was the new staff member.

During the worship service, the pastor introduced me in my new capacity as interim associate pastor. I would make the observation that there is a great deal of automatic acceptance and affection and regard that comes with that "role". I also know from experience that there are also many expectations. As soon as the folks learned my title and true identity, the welcoming and warmth dial went up many degrees.

I remember both as a preacher's kid as a child and as the pastor of a church later in life, how amazing and awesome it is that there is a whole community waiting there to embrace you, love you, make you feel at home, before they even get to know you. There is no other "job" that one could have that comes with that much affirmation and warmth, and perhaps also some pre-conceived ideas about who you are. One has to either live up to all that, or shatter their notions of what a pastor is like. One ultimately has to earn their respect.

I am truly confident only in one area of my life, and that is in the abilities that God gives me to do the work to which I am called. Those whom God calls, he also gives the strength and ability to fulfill that calling.

I look forward to humbling serving, and hopefully through that, winning their trust. We are all one in Christ Jesus our Lord.

Let It Be

I don’t want to insult the lovely Beatles song ‘Let It Be’ by using it in an unflattering way. In fact, I recently heard Paul McCartney speak about how his own mother, Mary, appeared to him in a dream and spoke those words of wisdom to his night of darkness.

Unfortunately, I have a situation in my life to which those words speak. I have learned that there are some things one cannot easily let go, because the hurt is too deep, especially when inflicted by someone close. It would be dishonest to say one can simply ‘let it go’, when it seems that greed and injustice have prevailed. However, I do believe that the one who perpetrates injustice will reap the fruits of his deeds. And woe is he!

And I cope by letting it be. It helps me to avoid thinking about it to envision this situation as a pile of four-letter-word manure. It is stinky and messy; but it is not within my power to change or fix it. All I can change is my attitude.

I don't exactly know what to make of this pile of manure. There is one thing I know: I don’t want to thought-walk anywhere near it. I cut a wide path around it, as much as I am able, and let it be.

Whatever times of trouble come to me;
whatever night of darkness I may see,
Wisdom speaks her words that make me free:
There is still a light that shines on me.

We Help Each Other Out

Helping each other is what families do. Today I am helping one of my daughters improve her financial situation. In these economic times, awaiting new laws to protect the consumer, credit card companies are increasing the interest rates, even doubling it. Under those circumstances, one can quickly loose the ability to have any impact on reducing the debt.

We decided together, Gerry and I, and this particular daughter, that it would be in all our best interest for her to be able to pay off that credit card, so we are providing collateral for a guaranteed-to-be-paid-back loan. This daughter is a single parent. I once lived in that state for a few years, before I met Gerry, so I am very sympathetic. It is a very scary place to be, and feels precarious, like living the edge, where one unexpected event can cause the whole house of cards to come tumbling down. She has been dedicated and hard working, handling it all with as much grace as possible, despite tremendous challenges and hardships.

As a family, we have helped one another out in a myriad of ways over the years. I will never forget a few years ago when this very same daughter helped us out. In fact, it was one of those rare occasions that brought tears to my ears and a lump to my throat. Post cancer surgery, Gerry had many problems. That particular Christmas day we were supposed to have Christmas dinner at single parent daughter's house. She was doing the cooking, and the family was gathering at her house. But unexpectedly that day, Gerry had a serious medical problem which required a trip to the emergency room and we were unable to travel. I called the hosting daughter to let her know. She cooked the whole meal, put it in her trunk, drove an hour and a half to our house in Syracuse, and provided family Christmas for us all. That's something I'll never forget. It made me cry then. It makes me cry now, just to think about it.

To tell you the truth, we've all been through many difficult times in our lives, each one of us in different ways. But as a family, we hold one another up.

I don't know anything any more precious than that.

Connecting the Dots

I begin my work as interim associate pastor on Monday. In preparation for that, the pastor and I spoke on the phone this morning. Because things have worked out the way they have, I mentioned to Pastor John that I believe that this ministry is where God has led me. I knew the story only from my side.

Coming out of the front door of the library, where I have been going regularly, I noticed this lovely stone church directly across the street. Curious about the church, wanting to know their time of worship, I logged on to their website. I was amazed to see there that they were looking for an interim associate pastor. My heart skipped a beat, as I wondered whether or not such a church might be interested in a minister from another denomination. Then I noticed that the website's last entry was August, so I figured the position had probably already been filled.

It was the weekend, and I could not call and ask, so I worked on my resume and waited until Monday morning, when I went in personally. The church secretary said that the committee had just decided to look for a full time permanent person, which is not what I wanted. I knew it had been a long shot to begin with. I sort of shrugged off my disappointment but decided to leave the resume anyway, just in case.

I didn't hear anything from them, so it seemed clear that the position was filled, or they were not interested in someone from a different denomination. I was actually able to put it out of my mind, though by this time, I was actively praying that the Lord would give me work to do. For the past few months, I have had too much free time, and have longed for some meaningful, ministry assignment.

It was three weeks later when the phone rang. The Chair of the Taskforce Committee called and said they had decided they wanted to meet with me. I interviewed with the church committee and learned that I would also need to interview with the denominational committee on ministry as well. That was a long and complex process. But it is done.

In talking with Pastor John this morning, I learned that the day before I walked in and left my resume, the committee realized that the direction they had been headed was not going to work out. Having been without an associate pastor for most of the year, John was sitting there that day when I walked in, praying for the right answer, the right person.

A believing person has to assume that a listening God connected those prayer dots and brought us together, church looking for an interim pastor---pastor looking for an interim church.

That being the case, I trust that it is going to be a blessing, for us all. May it be so.

The Year of Weddings

2010 is the year of weddings in our family. My daughter Michelle is getting married in August, and Yo (youngest offspring) is getting married in September. Fortunately, I already have a dress I can wear to Michelle's wedding, so that has not been a problem. But finding a dress to wear to Yo's wedding has been driving me crazy. Now, they both have their dresses.

I have spent months and months, hours and hours on line searching. Mother of the bride dresses just don't seem to be made for me. They are much too immodest; much too sexy. They seem to be made for mothers who are 20 years younger than I am , and probably are, since Yo was born when I was much older than most other mothers with children her age.

And to make matters much worse, I am not a size anyone makes. I am in the larger size range, but also need a petite in order for a dress to fit the torso. A dress in the correct size range is pretty much non-existent. Recently, I found a dress I think will actually work. I am very hopeful that it will be a good fit. It looks like just what I need, in the right color. Is seems to be the correct size, and also made for a short person. It should arrive in the next few days. Oh, how I would like to have this particular task behind me.

Assuming the dress works, then the next challenge is----shoes! How can one wear an elegant, lovely fancy gown with old lady shoes? How will I be able to stand fancy shoes appropriate for such a dress? I'll probably have at least three pair on hand. One pair to wear when I am in my clergy robe officiating. One pair to wear when I am being introduced as the mother of the bride, and another pair to wear when I am dancing with Gerry!

Getting ready for weddings is no simple matter!

The Interview

Tomorrow I have an important interview. It is with a committee on ministry which will determine my suitability to serve in the congregation I hope to serve. An occasion of this sort [having been through it before] normally causes me great stress and anxiety. I am a bit nervous. Such an interview is not like other interviews. For one thing, the candidate is interviewed by a large group, in this case, about 18 people. For another thing, one is quizzed about their life story, their theology (who is Christ?) and their experience of ministry. My first inclination is to be nervous.

But instead of allowing myself to be affected by any negative or self-defeating thoughts, I will declare ahead of time that I am going to have an absolutely great time! Why shouldn't I just enjoy it? What a great opportunity. I get to talk about my faith, and who I am. I get to convince others of my authencity. Hopefully, that will be fun, Lord willing!

After all, I spent years serving on the very same committee in my own denomination, so surely I can handle this!

I do absolutely believe that this particular position is where God is leading me. Assuming that is indeed the case, then both the committee and I both mere vessels, moving us all toward God's will.

If it is not the case, nothing ventured, nothing gained. I stepped up in faith. I stepped out in faith. Whatever will be will be.

Being Googled

I had an interesting experience in early December. I went for an interview at a church where I hope to get a job. That always involves a committee. After we had been talking for a while, the chair of that committee said, "Well, I googled you." I had heard that people do that these days with prospective employees, so I wasn't all that surprised. But what came next was a complete shock. Earlier last year, I had served as interim pastor at a church which was quite technologically advanced. There were power point sermons and words to songs projected, sermons on-line, both printed and audio. The committee chair pulled out a copy of a sermon I had preached during those months. Of course, I wondered immediately....what sermon is it? Is it one I would have chosen, etc?

That was a huge learning experience for me, an experience I had before I began my blog. Now I understand fully that anything I write in my blog has to pass muster with any future parishioners or church committee. At the time of that interview, the blog wasn't there. Now when you google my name, the blog does show up, almost at the top.

There is also the matter of protecting the identify of my daughters, heretofore referred to only as "daughters". For three of them, if you googled their names, my name and my blog would not immediately come up, because their last names are different. I cannot use the real first name of the Youngest Offspring, who shares the same last name. To do so would mean than anyone who googled her would also get me. I am protecting her privacy, should she be googled. Therefore, hereafter, she shall be known as Yo (for youngest offspring).

We live in a google world, for sure, where trolls are at work [software trolling], connecting all the dots all the time! (Really!)