Pulling Together

I'm feeling like I'm getting back to normal - like I'm able to focus on others; like I'm getting time to relax and rest; like I'm no longer on the end of my rope.

Part of it is the process of getting settled. I am enjoying these new places - both home and work. Work feels like it can finally settle in because I know that my colleague will be around for a little while and won't becoming bishop. I know that my job is going to be what I expected it to be when I took the call. I know that I'm enjoying myself, and am pretty confident that I will continue to enjoy myself.

Home is settling. I do have some work to do. And, I will have little projects here and there - as time and money allow. I like having those projects. I like that I get to continuously make this a more comfortable place. I maybe should knock on wood w/ this, but for the time being, this is fun.

And, car. It's getting figured out. I did get a citation. I'll pay it and let the points come off my record. I bought a car that I picked up yesterday and while it's not quite the same quality that my Civic was, it's a nice little car that runs well and that has what I need in it.

Finally, I'm pulling together because I've finally gotten to find time to spend with some people who I haven't seen much of, to make some of the phone calls I owe, to make social plans. I am still missing some folks - I miss them a whole lot - but as I pull together - as I settle - that too will come around.

NO MORE DRAMA!

I'm praying for no more drama. I feel like these last 3+ months have been all about the drama. Leaving the old church, starting the new church. Then, house hunting. Condo-buying.

I closed on Friday, the 13th (of November) - then on the 15th I caught some crazy bug that kept me from a Sunday morning in which I was supposed to preach. I was also supposed to start ripping out carpet. I did that the next day - put in floors, painted walls (taking a week off to do so). Then, the next weekend, the day after Thanksgiving, I moved.

That was a week and one day ago. I still have boxes. I'm still settling in. Tomorrow I host my first gathering here (other than the night of my closing): my book club. It won't be all put together, but I hope to have to reasonably so.

But, beyond that, there has been other drama.

Drama #1

The week before my move I received a call from the council president of my former parish telling me the following story:

She had received a phone call that morning from a police officer who had been called to a tavern the night before. Apparently, somebody called the police because they overheard an intoxicated individual talking about how they were hired to kill the pastor of my former parish. Since there had not been a pastor there with any regularity since I had been (they just called someone who will start mid-Dec), they decided I'd better know about it.

I stayed at a friend's house and tried to live life as normal. But, it was hard. I was unnerved. I thought about how people who live with this every day use up so much energy forcing themselves to actually live and not just be afraid. A couple days later I ended up talking with one of the police detectives who and apprehended this gentleman. Someone w/ mental health issues and who was an alcoholic. Someone who would never be hired for this kind of thing. Someone who was trying to prove he was somebody by talking big. Someone who I might have not even known who I was - or anything about me. And, maybe it wasn't even me he meant.

I'm feeling like that is resolved - especially since I've moved since then. But, it took a mighty bit of energy.

Drama #2

My colleague - the one who made accepting a new call in a team position very attractive (a large part of why I took this call was to work with him) - was one of the "identified leaders" to be the bishop for my synod. Yesterday and today were the election. He did quite well, but ultimately is not the called bishop.

But, what this has meant has been a bit of the unknown. I haven't wanted to plan too far ahead, not knowing what was going to be. I haven't wanted to make too many assumptions. The possibility that he would be bishop and not sr. pastor always loomed over any type of planning conversation, even though we mostly didn't talk about it.

So, that drama is resolved. And, now, it feels good to be able to settle in.

Drama #3

The freshest drama. I was in a pretty major car accident today. I am physically okay. I actually don't feel anything. I might tomorrow - I don't know. I had a small headache earlier, but that partly felt like the caffeine withdrawal (that I've been going through b/c I haven't had much coffee lately) more than anything.

I came around a corner too fast. I knew it was too fast, and was slowing down. But, then, I saw a car in the right-hand shoulder. And, I swerved to miss it. The swerve took me too far the other way - I lost control - and attempted to swerve the other way - which drove me right into the other car (a van, actually).

My airbags deployed. My tire and front passenger side are smashed up. I got out - really shaken. An ambulance was right behind me and stopped to make sure I was okay. He called the police, and I did too. So, two cars came, which turned out to be good.

The first started talking to me - and I'm actually not sure how the second knew to drive around and look for someone else. But, he left and I guess came back with someone who was very drunk.

Five minutes earlier, that drunk person had been in the vehicle I hit. He had hit a pole and nursed the car to the place it was. Left the car - got out - and started walking.

I'm haunted by this. And, I may later come back to edit this - but right now I have to write it down. I'm haunted by two things. One, that I did lose control of my car. It was frightening to drive tonight (a rental car, that is). I was the slow-granny-driver in the far right lane driving 1/2 a football field's length away from the car in front of me. I think I'll get more courageous as time goes by - but it's very unnerving right now.

Secondly, I'm haunted that I hit near the driver's side. Had that man not gotten out of the car - had he not gotten out of the way - I'm not sure what would have happened.

I'm tired. It's been a long two days. But, really, it's been a really long month. A lot of good. But, some pretty dramatic bad. Right now, I just want to sleep. Tomorrow, I hope I laugh a lot. Monday, I have many, many details to take care of. Tuesday - I'll get back into the swing of work. At least, that is what I hope. And, I'm needing to look at this as one day at a time. I'm overwhelmed. And grateful that although there have been some harrowing situations, no one has been hurt.

I am safe. I am in a secure home. I am in a secure workplace. I will eventually figure out what needs to be done regarding car things, and I will face the consequences. And, I thank God the consequences are not more than money, time and confession can fix.

Zoiks!

I just need to record this idea somewhere. If I happen to have short hair again - the style it is now - at Halloween, I should really go as Velma from Scooby Doo.

Wrinkle-Free

Well, I'm not wrinkle-free, but apparently the amount of stress I carry in my face, or rather, the lesser amount of stress, is noticeable.

I ran into some former parishioners at a synod event last week and two of them commented that I appeared less stressed and more relaxed. Others have made comments as well.

Now, I did start using a different product on my face about the time I started my new job. That could certainly have something to do with it. But, I do think I'm more relaxed, less stressed in my work life.

I may have bitten off a little more than I can chew in regards to the home improvements I'd like to make on my condo, but that's another story.

I can't say that work is perfect. But, I can say that I am definitely realizing the benefits of not being alone in this work, of being part of a staff. I am more relaxed, and I am enjoying myself every day.

Cleared for Landing

At the time of my last blog post, I was in the process of making the big decision to buy a condo. This condo is fine - it will be lovely once I take off the wood paneling and paint and change the floors. It's a steal in many ways - two bedroom, ground level (and so my own entrance), a block from a park w/ an entrance to a much longer biking/running/xx skiing path. It seems to be a quiet, yet populated community. With a good mixture of people who are older and people in their 20s and 30s.

I'm sooo excited (and nervous!) about this! I'm pumped to get to start putting my own touches on my living space - but that's also unsettling because I'm not sure I'm cut out artistically for that. We'll see. I'm taking advice as I go along. I feel pretty confident in finding color/what not - that I like. It's the special methods of painting I'm not so sure about.

However, as I was considering buying, I found myself worrying about community and place. When I started to consider taking this new call, I was pretty adamant that I didn't want to be too far away from the friend-community I've worked really hard to build. 'Though this call is in the same synod, it is 40 minutes from my current community. Not that it's that far from all of my friends, but that is a bit of a distance from some with whom I spend a great deal of time.

Yet, I also didn't want to be too far away from work.

When I began to consider where I would ideally land, I thought of a particular intersection of highway that felt like it would get me quickly either direction. I ruled it out pretty quickly because of the cost of housing in the area I thought had the most homes. Turns out, my new home is closer to that intersection than any of that housing would have been! And, it was not too costly.

But, then I got to thinking. Will that be my community? If I'm living in between my social life and my work life, will I really live my life? Will I work at all to meet people in that area, my new neighbors? Or, will I be too full of old friend and new work communities to even give it a shot?

Will I begin to learn the legalities of that city? Will I know who the mayor is and what school district and follow referendums? Will I care if I don't really know others who care?

I hope I will. I'm recognizing that I'm now, in some ways, going to be juggling three communities. I suppose that, as has been my pattern so far, I will slowly integrate - slowly become part of - this new community too. I sure hope so - I don't want my community to be fully dependent on my car...

Why I'm Comfortable

Before I get to my real post I'd like to brag: My day off began with coffee and a chocolate croissant.

It's been an incredibly full week, but a good one too. I feel really comfortable in this new call, which makes me wonder about a couple different theories, that I'm not completely sure I want to fully admit or commit to.

First, I honestly do think it is a culture thing. This new church is so much more like the congregation in which I grew up. The people are like people I went to high school and college with - people that I volunteered with - people I connect with more naturally due to common interest, common experience. I get this culture. For better and for worse, I feel at home in this culture - and natural. I think I also bring some experience which will allow me to compassionately and authentically challenge - but it is also less work for me to find myself in the middle of this place.

This of course, makes me mindful of the balance of comfort - and being called out of what is comfortable. I struggle with that - with accepting that it might be okay for me to be in a call where I'm very much similar to everyone else. Where I feel at home pretty much right away. Because I so value diversity, I've sometimes gone away from where it is I'm most comfortable. And, now I find myself in it. So I have the dueling emotions of relief and guilt that I am so comfortable already.

Secondly, the part I really haven't thought too much about - but that does rumble inside my head: I am not in charge. Yes, I have responsibility. Yes, I am still Pastor. But, I'm not carrying the full weight.

I've been a little amazed at how easily I've slipped into the supportive role...of course, I am just starting to learn the congregation - so it may be that I'm less invested...but I also think I'm just naturally a team player - and not necessarily one that needs to be the lead.

So, that does make me wonder about the environments and levels of responsibility to which I'm called, especially as I recognize how much more energy I've had this week (even as I've been exhausted...funny, that). Maybe it's the change up - maybe it's the level of support at my previous call - but, I'm feeling much more at home in this situation where I am not where "the buck stops."

I'm not making grand declarations, nor am I putting myself in a box, but I am noting the incredible change and wondering about my skill set, what I enjoy, and my temperament and what that means for now and for the future.

Since it seems I'm forecasting posts now: The next post will be about community and where I land.

Beginning Again

Today I begin as Associate Pastor at a new church.

Obviously, much has been in the works - interviewing, discerning, deciding, announcing, leaving, resting. But now, I'm jumping in - with excitement - and nervousness.

I have many thoughts about how starting this second call is different than the first one, most markedly, I believe I'm just calmer overall. But, that will have to wait until another time.

Now I have to get a little more coffee and start to get ready.

Primary Wonder - revisited

Today is a day to blog.

I started (bright and early - 7:30am) today by leading devotions at a board meeting and read the poem that is the base of this blog. It was a good way to start the day.

Two lengthy meetings, one text study and one hospital visit later I found myself at home, having already put in a 7-hour day...and wanting a beer and to be done w/ the day.

On my way back to church I dropped off some mail and so passed by the apt complex where some parishioners live - just as they were exiting on their way to church (with a bunch of cans for our recycling that earns money for the church). I gave them a lift...and from that point on thing after thing happened that meant that I got to be helpful, to assist, to be part of the body of Christ, to be pastor in a wide array of situations.

One of the people whom I've been meeting w/ every other week came by on an off week to tell me that he made some connections and has a case worker now, who is providing him with a counselor. He's got two job interviews tomorrow. He wanted to say that he probably wouldn't be back. He looked so much more at peace than he has for the last 6 months. I was happy to send him w/ blessing - and loved his grin as he walked out after the meal.

I got to talk w/ a college-aged parishioner whose family has experienced some trauma recently. I am one of very few who know about it, but she knows I know. After talking with her and offering an ear or support in whatever way, I told her that I was praying for her. I continue to tear up as I remember that she looked me in the eye and said, "That actually helps me a lot."

I helped a woman who had talked with me a year ago when she lost her husband. I remembered her once she talked to me again - but she wasn't the one that needed help. She was bringing someone else who needed help - so I helped her help someone else. We got some information, and then connected him w/ the person who helps out w/ clothing. I got to overhear the following statement said with glee: "We've got some clothes that have been waiting for a man with a 40" waist!" What a great statement!

Our cook burned himself on the stove tonight. I think he was going home to put ice on it, but I caught him before he went and mentioned that I'm sure the Free Clinic would be willing to help him out. I didn't do a lot there, but it was fun to be the connector - to see the director of the clinic leading him and tsking about the burn. And, it was good to know that it was taken care of.

Then, worship - with a gathering of people, 1/3 of which were new. The joyful conversation. The ways in which we got to share, even when people first said they didn't know what to say. The affirming welcome that was offered.

Days pass when I forget the mystery....(but) you O Lord, Creator, hallowed one, hour by hour, sustain it.

Foraging Ahead

Twice today I stayed in the moment, listened to my emotion and my gut, communicated what I needed to communicate. Once was with my evil doctor (the dermatologist). I didn't really get everything I want, but I was able to communicate clearly, and got more than I have at other times. I may not go back to him, but I will try what he prescribed this time. He is really the antithesis of holistic health, and not a great listener either.

The other was a clarifying conversation with someone who I feel I can now say is a friend. I wasn't sure how to approach the conversation, but I knew that I needed it to happen. And so I bumbled, but it was okay. And, I felt better about my friend, about myself and about the whole situation.

The path is being cut, forged through. I'm not done - there will be more situations soon where my emotions and guts need to be consulted, and clarity of words held at the same time. But, I feel good about today.

Cutting the path

I'm feeling like I'm in new territory once again. Territory where I need to trust my gut and my emotions. A path that hasn't exactly been cleared yet, although, there may be a faint path where others have gone before.

What I'm feeling a need for is a compass, something to help me to decide direction - something to clearly guide me. I'm praying. But, I will admit that I'm not so sure that crystal clarity is going to occur.

What's funny is that these themes do keep swirling around each other. It's not one thing, it's many. My task will to be to ask questions and then respond out of what I think and feel. I'm good at that first task but hit or miss on the second.

And, I wonder why I sit here on Saturday, July 4th, working on a sermon, resenting that I couldn't go out of town with friends. I want to escape decision making for a little while. To be airlifted off the path, even if I have to be dropped back again.

For the weekend, I'm camping out here - until that time that I need to start poking around and feeling my way through the forest. The path is always here, and so the tasks are not forgotten.

Feet

Facebook status updates aren't sufficing for "what I'm thinking about." What I'm thinking about (at the moment) isn't pithy or funny. I'm thinking about feet, which, one might say, could be pithy and funny.

My feet were hurting on Friday (and a little bit yesterday) from the amount of walking I'd been doing. Also, because my running shoes are not supporting me like they used to. That's what happens after 4 years of use. (I really need to stop buying other things (ie. new computer) and get new running shoes if I want happy feet again).

Friends were in town on Friday and we walked around the lakefront, in neighborhoods and then went to Summerfest. During our walk we had a difficult time figuring out where we might use "the facilities" and M said that at these times she always thinks about the assertion that our feet are connected to other parts of the body, and the one connected to the bladder is the heel. So as one walks, each time the foot hits the pavement, there is a reminder of the need to find a restroom.

In the last 6 months or so, I have noticed that I've developed the tendency to stretch and rotate my feet. Part of this has something to do with past injuries, part of this has something to do w/ my decrepit running shoes. But, I wonder if part of it, too, is if I'm preparing myself to use my feet differently.

One of my ordination texts was Isaiah 52:7-10:

How beautiful upon the mountains

are the feet of the messenger who announces peace,
who brings good news,
who announces salvation,
who says to Zion, ‘Your God reigns.’

I chose it because I had heard a great sermon (given at the Presiding Bishop's installation) that focused on where feet went. I also chose it because I do love my feet. I'm thinking about where my feet are going and in what way I'm walking. Lately, they've been traveling more and more with friends. Lately, at work, they've been switching places with those I had previously been leading - and I am now following. Lately, they've been feeling a little ancy.

I'm thinking about my feet. New shoes, a pedicure, summer time, and where those feet go. It could be a pithy statement, but I don't want it to be.

She's got the I-yi-yi-yi-yi-wants

What do I want?

I don't know a lot of the time. But, it's something I'm needing to be paying attention to, because I so quickly pay attention to what other people want.

What do I want?

I guess I do know some of it - respect from all, love from some.

I want to have deep friendships and meaningful work.

I want to sleep well at night.

I know the big picture wants. But, in the moment?

Me knowing what I want in a particular moment doesn't always happen.

I can solve things, fix things, make things happen, especially for other people.

But ask me what I want, I have a hard time saying.

Right now, I just want to know what I want.

Variations on a theme

It's funny how themes sometimes come together at the right time.

I put off sermonizing for a wedding until the day of...and the day of gave a perfect illustration with which to map out the sermon.

As I had already been preparing to preach this Sunday on a piece of Scripture where Jesus calms the storm in the midst of the sea, Thursday night brought frightening thunder.

Life events lately have somehow had themes as well. Curiosities, possibilities, stability...not just one area of life, but spanning at least a couple.

Right at this very moment, I'm a little nervous about all of the travel I'm wanting to plan - and pay for. I started to get a plane ticket but had to back out (with the grace of a one-time "get out of reservation free" option through Expedia), because I stupidly didn't check my schedule. Then, I started to search for a ticket on Megabus... but took too long and when I attempted to log back in, it wouldn't let me. So, my path forward is going in fits and starts...with some diversions along the way.

That actually describes how I'm feeling about many of my tasks at the moment...even in getting ready for my day. All variations on a theme.

I'd be ready for a theme that rang with the joy of vacation...

Not an absence, just a re-routing.

I have been blogging, just not posting.

There is something in blogging that is safe - I don't see the expressions on your faces as you read; I'm not even exactly sure who is reading, or when y'all will read this.

But, blogging isn't safe at the same time. For the same reasons listed above, but also, because it's not dialogue.

I learn a lot about myself as I write and as I type. It's why I journal (both w/ pen and paper and on a computer...different beauties to each method). And, I learn a lot about myself as I write with the recognition that others are going to read.

But, I also learn a lot when I dialogue.

And, I'm finding that I'm wanting to be private in certain things. Which isn't all that surprising. But, means that I don't really have a lot to say here for all to see.

No Net

Today was Palm Sunday - wait, no it was Passion - or, a bit of both. I'm not sure when and where Palm Sunday and Sunday of the Passion combined, but that's how we do it. Actually, I really like the quick switch - I like that it shows the glaring mirror of how fickle humanity can be.

So, in addition to processing - inside for the first time due to sleet - from the Fellowship Hall to the Sanctuary....in addition to me barking to those people who were already sitting in their pews to get up and walk around in the procession (WALK! if you are physically able!)...in addition to some strange rearranging of worship to help people recognize what we were doing (since they were not in the Fellowship Hall at the beginning to understand) - I decided to preach an impromptu sermon.

I was standing up there, during the reading of Mark 14 & 15, a little miffed that it felt like people were just there for the spectacle, and realized that I wanted people to hear why it's important that we actually be the crowd.

I remember some of what I said, and I'm told it was actually a good sermon. But, there was no net. I just got up there and started talking. It was fun - and nerve wracking - and felt bold, and audacious (I've been using that word a lot lately). But, the Spirit flew - and at least hit some.

PostSecret Sabbatical

For some time I have really enjoyed the blog "Post Secret". It regularly makes me smile, pray, laugh, cringe, cry and identify with others.

In counseling I'm working on paying attention to my emotions - something I have learned very well how to push down. Doing this is a little frightening - mostly because I am having to learn a new balance, especially at work. Things are hitting me differently (or I'm responding to them differently) which then means I have some stronger reactions.

I teared up a week ago while teaching Confirmation - in a good, emotionally charged way. It was depth-of-my-soul stuff that we were talking about, and it hit me. Especially hearing teenagers' reactions, thoughts and questions.

I felt threatened in one aspect of the council retreat yesterday, and on further reflection realized I did so because one of the things the council discussed focusing on is something that I tried to garner support for (including from some of the people at the table)- put a lot of energy into - and that crashed and burned. But, recognizing this emotion, even if it's a little late, allows me to approach this next attempt with history and communicated expectation of involvement by others.

These are just two examples - there are many others, easy and difficult, good and bad, of how my attention to emotion is impacting my day-to-day life.

But, when I just sat down to read PostSecret today, I was overwhelmed with emotion. It was too much. I wonder if some of my attention to it has been that I feel the range of emotions as I read it. And that I needed to feel them.

But now, even though I consider it a marvelous endeavor, I may need to take a break from PostSecret.

Confidential to Belle

I love you and your demonstrativeness!!!

Slow-burner

I've heard romance compared to a fire - slow burning that lasts a while (as long as that which is being burned lasts) or quick burning. (I actually hope for myself that it's a combination of both.)

Friends can be like this too, I do believe. This morning as I wake up I am thankful for one of my steady-eddy friends - one of those slow-burning ones who is never very flashy, never very demonstrative. But she's solid and dear and fun and smart.

The Story

Not just one of my favorite songs from 2007 (Thank you Brandi Carlile).

I had an intense evening. Good ministry that mostly consisted of listening and praying. I felt good about it. I felt like I was once again in a groove. Not fully (worship wasn't the greatest), but enough that I felt inspired by my job.

One of the conversations was with a man who is again thankful that he has been able to work this past week. After quietly handing me some cash for me to "pass on" to someone when they need it, he sat with me as I ate.

We started talking about movies and he said that he sometimes gets the same feeling in movies as he does in church. As I thought about it, I was fascinated. Worship is a retelling of a story - other people's experiences and viewpoints in regards to God - identifying with that story and figuring out how it impacts your life. Which, a good movie does too.

It was an interesting conversation. I think the story of God is more transforming, and is a promise in addition to a story. But, food for thought...

Just like Kate Winslet

Kate Winslet is the March 2nd Time magazine cover story. I have always liked her, but didn't expect that she would say something with which I could identify.

She says, "I come from a long line of real cart horses. Very stoic, insides-made-of-iron people. So I can take any s___ you can fling at me. I can cope with any workload. I can deal with lack of sleep. I can multitask like you've no idea. But two weeks ago, I actually had a panic attack. My first one. I didn't know what it was!"

Yup - I'm just like Kate Winslet. Well, maybe not just like. I have no little golden statues signifying success hanging around my house.

I'm actually doing pretty well. I feel like my counselor is a good fit. I've got some work to do, but I'm feeling really well-supported and like I can be more myself. I'm not feeling nearly as fragile as was a few weeks ago.

Messages

What do we believe - about ourselves, about others?
How do we know what we know?

Someone believes he knows the sin of another, but can't see his own.

Another believes that the story she told her class (as part of a writing assignment) didn't represent a loved one well (a loved one no one knows or ever will) and wants to take it back.

Another is hearing rumors about someone with whom he is friends. He is helping this one and while he easily deflects the "warnings" - they are "getting to him." He came to me to find out if the one about this person stealing from the church is true (it's not). He also wanted to be assured about the way he is handling the situation.

Another talked to me tonight because he started working a job that includes a lot of free alcohol. He is concerned about how he will handle it. He says he believes he can....but why did he talk to me? I told him I'm going to be checking in with him each time I see him - and gave him my card to call me if he needed to talk. I also told him about AA meetings. He was more than a little interested. He knows he's walking a thin line.

And then there is me. I am now seeing a counselor for anxiety. I don't know if it is that my anxiety triggers self-esteem issues, if it's the other way around, or if it is a circle with one feeding the other. But, something in me tells me that I'm failing - that I'm only worth what I can accomplish, not simply because I am.

Intellectually, I know I'm wrong. But, these thoughts sneak from my subconscious into my consciousness when I'm at my most vulnerable - stressed out, or completely relaxed.

Me, being who I am, am very well aware of this. And, I feel like I'm on the verge of doing some very good work that will make me a healthier person. But all of these messages that we tell ourselves, that we believe about ourselves and others, that we give to one another....where do they come from? How do we consciously and unconsciously choose what to believe? And, how do we sort through them?

Energy

I'm experiencing the Sunday morning blah again.

The urge to skip out on all of the responsibilities I have for today.

I think it's because I told someone earlier this week that I like the tasks of Sunday morning, but not the demands of others.

If it were just about getting up front and leading worship; if it were just about going and teaching a Bible Study; I would be ok. But, I have two meetings to follow the Bible Study. And, the Sunday morning pile on is not a holy dogpile, but the number of problems and issues that people tell me about - all of which I ask them to tell me later or write it down for me....but even if I'm not having to handle it right then, I feel their weight.

Today will be a good day. New members, good worship, Bible Study, getting some good work going. But, it all takes different energies. And balancing those energies requires even more energy.

I wish I could plug in to something to give me the jolt I need. Instead, I'll down my 3rd cup of morning coffee and be on my way.

Ok...I Know...No

I just returned from a short "weekend" trip to visit my grandmother who is recovering from a knee replacement. After 3 weeks in the hospital and then at a nursing facility (with a special kind of bed for her knee), she got home on Tuesday and on Thursday night I arrived.

It was a little miraculous - I actually got the chance to help my grandma out. My fierce independence comes from both sides of my family - and my grandma is no exception. Up until her surgery she continued to do things that she really should have had other people do.

Last night, as I was checking to make sure she had everything she needed she was trying to commit to memory the earliest she could take her next pain pill. I told her and then reminded her that if she had any question, she could certainly wake me up. Her response: "Ok. Pause I know. Pause No." Meaning, I understand and thank you, but no, I won't be waking you.

With my grandma, this time around, it was easy to just go ahead and do for her what she had a hard time getting to. However, it never works to ask her what I can do to help her.

I know I'm much the same. It was a privilege to be able to help my grandma - and fun to be with her.

Grandma being off her feet also meant that I got to sit down with her and her recipe box and, as I copied some of them I got to ask questions about them and hear what she had made some of the recipes for. One of her recipes called for wild rice. Grandma mentioned that she puts the seasoning packet from the Uncle Ben's wild rice box. Because I mentioned that I would probably buy in bulk and would want to look at the ingredients in the packet - Grandma made me find the box she had and take it with me. (There are 23 herbs and spices....so, maybe I won't be buying in bulk).

I also left with a Krumkaka Iron. One my parents gave her early on in their marriage, but that Grandma never uses. I've always borrowed my mom's in the past - but have had to remember to do so at Thanksgiving - and have intended to get my own for a couple of years.

Finally, I got a couple days away where I only had very simple tasks to do. I read a bunch. Ate a lot of soup. Took a nap both Friday and Saturday. I'm so glad I went.

We Live at the Plate.

"It's just that there is sentiment here to use our bequest to challenge and invite others also to step up to the plate. "

This is a direct quote from someone who approached me this week with a thought toward helping to support my congregation's ministry, particularly to the homeless. I am really trying hard not to be offended. Particularly because up until this moment, this entity now trying to challenge others to "step up to the plate" has been nonexistent in the realm of social justice, or even in the community. They have been invited over and over again.

My congregation does a lot with very little. We work hard. We go over and above "the plate" and have been doing so for a number of years. The suggestion was made that my congregation do a fund drive to raise money that would then be matched by this entity. I feel like saying - why don't we count all of the numerous hours, the heartbreaking conversations, the thousands that we have already put in, and plan to continue to put in.....and consider that you are making an attempt to match that. You'll come no where close.

But, I won't say it like that. I might mention that we are already working on a couple of other ways to financially support our work, and they might see that as "matching." Grrrr.. Sometimes I really don't like being diplomatic.

Speak to Me That I May Speak

As I've started Christmas cards (only about 1/3rd through....they may be pre-Lent cards), as I've started to write the annual report for the congregation, I've recognized that I'm not so sure how to sum up this year without giving away too much.

It's been a hard year. Not stuff to write in Christmas cards. Not appropriate to share all with the congregation. Oh, they'll hear some, that pertains to the community life, but neither my own faith/personal struggles nor those things that have been the most difficult for me at work....particularly certain ways I've had to be involved in some individuals' lives.

Attached to my faith struggle has been a yearning to hear some direction for my life. Yearning to have something in some arena of my life so completely clear that I would know to head in that direction.

If you read past blog entries, you'll see it. And, it has been the reality of my life in 2008.

What leads me to anxious moments - to those times when I wake up from near-sleep to worry - are those times when I feel I am not enough. Nights are always harder than days. But, that period when I'm almost asleep is often when self-doubts start to wheedle their way to the front of my thoughts. My house isn't clean enough, I feel ugly (my current hair cut has been bothering me of late), I spend too much time at work, I failed a particular person in a particular way, my finances aren't in order....etc...etc.

The one that woke me up last night was the clean house - which is pretty ridiculous, because I believe my house could be company ready with an hour's notice.

I've been reading the "Space" trilogy by C.S. Lewis lately. I'm in the 2nd book - Perelandra in which "Ransom" the main character of the trilogy is sent to Perelandra - or Venus. It is a world at the beginning of its existence and there is one man, the King, who I have yet to meet in the book, and one woman, the Lady, who is "getting older" - or learning more and more. Maleldil (God) has forbidden residence on one piece of land (aka, forbidden eating fruit of one particular tree) and "the Enemy" in the form of someone that Ransom knows, has launch a logic-assault on the Lady. The Enemy is continuously in conversation with her, only stopping when she sleeps, to try to convince her that Maleldil really wants her to make her own choices away from him - but he can't tell her that because then it wouldn't be her own choice. Ransom is doing his best to stay awake and be present throughout this assault of logic - to try to combat the Enemy's arguments and convince the Lady to not go against what Maleldil has said.

Last night, after rationalizing myself out of my worry about my messy house, I picked up the book where I left off and read 2 pages before I came to something that brought me to tears:

"Inner silence is for our race a difficult achievement. There is a chattering part of the mind which continues, until it is corrected, to chatter on even in the holiest of places. Thus, while one part of Ransom remained, as it were, prostrated in a hush of fear and love that resembled a kind of death, something else inside him, wholly unaffected by reverence, continued to pour queries and objections into his brain. "It's all very well," said this voluble critic, "a presence of that sort! But the Enemy is really here, really saying and doing things. Where is Maleldil's representative?

"The answer which came back to him, quick as a fencer's or a tennis player's riposte, out of the silence and out of the darkness, almost took his breath away. It seemed Blasphemous. "Anyway, what can I do?"babbled the voluble self. "I've done all I can. I've talked till I'm sick of it. It's no good, I tell you." He tried to persuade himself that he, Ransom, could not possibly be Maleldil's representative as the Un-man was the representative of Hell. The suggestion was, he argued, itself diabolical - a temptation to fatuous pride, to megalomania. He was horrified when the darkness simply flung back this argument in his face, almost impatiently. And then - he wondered how it had escaped him till now - he was forced to perceive that his own coming to Perelandra was at least as much of a marvel as the Enemy's. That miracle on the right side, which he had demanded, had in fact occurred. He himself was the miracle."

These paragraphs and others in those 3 pages I read spoke to me. I was in tears - recognizing some of that communication for which I long.

It almost feels a little foolish to say that this was God - and yet, I believe it. I'm thankful for it.