Discernment

I thought a certain amount of discernment would be done by now. But, I sit here again, wondering what I am supposed to be doing with my life.

Work is fine. Nothing amazing. Nothing horrible. Except, I am feeling less and less called to what I am doing. I wonder about other ways my call to ministry can be lived out - but in my minimal searching in the last year have found nothing that inspires me.

Honestly, I'm going to take a chance and actually post this, even with the revealing questions here, partly because I figure someone else has to be asking them too, at least internally.

Does anyone else feel called to the work, but not the lifestyle? 
I'm a pk. I knew what I was getting into, but since the very beginning of my ministry I have struggled with the expectations of time and schedule. I knew what I was getting into, but I've been resentful of some of the very things I know other pastors take great joy in.

Does anyone else wonder about taking a break to try some other career? 
Only, as a break, with the option to return? (Obviously not to the current parish, but to parish ministry in general...without all the hoops.) I don't even know what I would be good at. I have some ideas of what I'd like to try, but I'm scared to look into any of them. How do I even begin to examine this?

Does anyone else feel the urge to be a valued member of a congregation rather than the leader?
I have some fantasies about that, actually. "Sure, Pastor, I'd love to fill in for your Confirmation class while you are on vacation. Yes, I would like to head up the service project that can be completed in a month. No, I'd rather not sit on the Stewardship Team, thank you." To be able to worship each week. To create church-based relationships that don't have the power differential of me being the pastor or as colleagues to one another.

Maybe this is just a phase. Maybe it's not. Maybe this is God's call to me - a call that I can't see the entire picture of yet. I have been sitting at this place for a while, hoping for some clarity. Sometimes hoping that it would just go away so I could keep on keeping on. I've prayed - and prayed - and meditated - and prayed. I've talked with my counselor. But, I still sit with the question of what I am to be doing.

Anyone who knows me knows I don't make rash decisions.  And this won't be one either. I continue to pray for some direction, some clarity. And, while patience is not a strength of mine, I'll try to maintain it - and in the meantime, serve God where I am now, to the best of my ability.

But still.....

4+ Weddings and a Funeral

The title is not a movie, but my June. Also, not included at each occasion was a band of hipster-before-their-time British folk.

I sit here the day after my plans stop. I have just been striving to make it to June 26th and haven't looked forward at all. So, today is a day to start looking at what July and August might hold for me.

Three of the weddings were ones in which I officiated. All very different couples from one another. All happily happened. And, I'm glad my role is finished.

One wedding was for dear friends - I had a small, but upfront, role. It was a wonderful weekend to celebrate them. I wish I'd had more time to just settle into that fun. Finally, I joined P in celebrating with friends who were married in South America, but celebrating here.

The funeral - the reason for my post - was my grandmother. Irmgard Anna Elizabeth Knock Becker. So much of my memory of her was as sternish provider. I realized as we celebrated her life that I never doubted that she loved me and I never doubted that I loved her. It wasn't until these later years, however, that we spoke the words.

She was tenacious (which makes me proud to identify with her :-) ), she was faithful, she had strong opinions and shared them. She regularly served others without really talking about it much. And, she is the person who modeled regular exercise.

I have some key memories:

I visited during my first year of seminary (2001-2002). She was ironing and talking about lesbians. Yup. Lesbians. She said to me something like, "I don't understand it. But, I guess I don't need to understand it." I got the sense that she wasn't so sure of my sexual orientation (I'd never really talked about my dating life...partly 'cause I didn't have much of one), and she wanted to know that I'd be loved by her no matter what. I also think that she'd been thinking about it because of conversations happening through her church.

Two memories from being young: 1) Cousins were playing in the basement - with the pool table in particular. One of us decided it'd be a good idea to jam the pool cues into the ceiling tiles and make holes. I remember doing it a couple times. It was pretty satisfying - sort of like popping bubble wrap. She came down those stairs livid. I don't remember what she said or how she said it, but I remember going from a feeling of "hey, this is fun!" to "oh, Grandma's mad. This must have been bad."

2) She and Grandpa were in a car accident and her seatbelt, while saving her, also bruised her pretty badly. I remember being instructed not to make her laugh and being somewhat amazed at the fragility of my Grandma at that time. She had never seemed fragile before to me. I also remember that she would laugh and then wince.

Due to the nature of my job, I'm not able to get to the family Christmas gathering when all the cousins are there. So, I've made it a point to go and visit Grandma at another time. I started to appreciate these - usually Jan or Feb - visits a lot. One of the visits happened to be right after she got home from knee replacement surgery - and it was the first time that I really felt like I was allowed to help her out. It was an honor to get to - to help her with her physical therapy. To help get meals together. To chat with her throughout the day.

I got to see Grandma alive one last time - the day it was decided to not put the feeding tube back in. She'd gone into the hospital due to pneumonia and the day her discharge was being organized she had a major stroke. As I sat with her, as I saw her interact with people in her diminished capacity, I realized a sweetness that I've recognized at other times. But, I got to really think about that sweetness. It undergirded everything - even her opinions - even her tenacity - especially her faith and her care for her family.

Our phone conversations in the last few years were about the same things - the weather, her health, my busyness, my dad's church, the great-grandchildren - and her voice always held a sense of joy to it. It's that quiet, yet strong joy that I imagine her still holding on to as she is welcomed into the life everlasting.

Proof texting life.

I have recognized a trait in me recently that I don't like. Sometimes, when I'm talking through things with someone - trying to see a bigger picture - or find an explanation - I end up making a supposition boldly. Then, I try to explain it...pretty much proof texting life.

Maybe it's why someone has behaved a certain way. Maybe it's an explanation for why people relate to one another a certain way. Maybe it's naming a dynamic bigger than 2 people. Essentially, I make things up. Not in a mean way, but to try to understand it myself.

The problem isn't in the wondering, it's that I don't communicate (to myself or others) that what I'm doing is wondering, instead, I come off as declaring.

I've got this image that what I'm doing is creating a ball of explanation that I spit out with the intention of exploring it - maybe removing the parts that don't work - massaging it to be what might be right. But, instead of working with it, I set it down right away - look at it and say, "This is what it is." Then, try to attempt to make that make sense.

Perhaps this image isn't helpful to anyone but me (but really, who is this blog for?).

It seems to me that I'm getting more assertive and more declarative as I get older. I'd rather maintain my sense of wondering about - of exploring - of searching for what is truth rather than just declaring it (especially since so often lately I've been way off).

Deep down, this comes from a desire to be wise. And, I've been told I'm wise. While I know wisdom isn't in declaring that I know something, it's tempting because when I do hit the nail on the head, people recognize the wisdom.

This is a confession of sorts - with a hope that by confessing, I'll better recognize this before I say something. By confessing, I'll be able to change this piece that bothers me.

This Is For You

Tears welled up yesterday as I handed out bread to people who are slowly - oh. so. slowly - becoming mine.

It's one of the difficulties of transitioning to and associate position - there is another pastor who has been there for over 20 years. He is The Pastor. Certainly not an ego thing on his part, or something he strives to be over and above me. Never would I suggest that - or even think that about him. But, it is the reality.

Additionally, this congregation is much bigger. It takes longer to learn the stories of so many. It takes longer to have pastorly experiences with so many - not to mention so many who are upper middle class (to even whatever is wealthier than that). That fact sometimes exhibits the personality of not quickly sharing difficulty and heart ache.

And so - I was surprised yesterday as I started welling up while I handed out the bread. I was surprised by the importance I saw this gift taking in people's lives. I was surprised to recognize a love for them.

I also was surprised by the wonder I felt. It hasn't been the most spiritually connected transition. I haven't been at the edge of my rope very often - which is most regularly where I am immersed (necessarily) in the wonder of God.

I've been struck by the meal anew. I've been struck by the earthiness of it - the commonality of the elements - the work of creation that goes into it. I've been struck by the gift and they way in which that gift was and is given.

I really feel lucky. Not everyone gets to week after week hand out the body of Christ.

The Examined-(with no clarity)- Life

All in all, life is pretty good.

But, I'm not living a very forward-looking life.

I've so often had a plan. Every single time I've had a plan it's not gone quite as I expected....so rather than a train track with no option of meandering, I've been on what could be more easily likened to a deer path in the woods.

But, I'm currently in a place of unknown. I don't know what I want to work towards making happen. I'm feeling unsure of what I imagine for myself in a year, in 3 years, in 10 years.

I guess it's a one-day/week/month/year-at-a-time approach for the time being. With discernment being something I regularly attempt.

Path-o-logic

In the past months I have had more than the normal amount of time spent alone steering a moving vehicle. Between the driving to work and to and fro the Chicago-land area, and riding my bike, I have found myself with a lot of time to think about paths.

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Part 1.

Sometimes, when driving through construction late at night, I get the feeling that I'm a vehicle in a video game. The reflectors along the barriers and on the road in front of me create an unreal feeling to what I'm doing. I make myself realize that I'm not in a video game, that if I were to crash my car it would be very real. (I still have moments of dread and fear when I remember the accident I was in last December.) But, the driving offers a sense of detachment.

I've appreciated that time of detachment when it's meant that I'm coming home from work. I've really not appreciated it when it means I'm leaving people I'd rather spend more time with. The amount of driving certainly lends itself to compartmentalizing, only my compartments are far, far apart from one another. When I lived 1/2 a mile from work, it was necessary to work at separating work and play. Now it is already separate. I write this mostly to note it. I don't have a judgement of it - or rather, I have many judgements, but they seem to balance themselves out.

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Part 2.

When I'm on the bike path behind my house, I sometimes look ahead of me and think, "oh my, it looks like it's uphill for a little ways."

I pedal.

I make it just fine.

When I turn around, I feel no real effect of a downhill.

Sometimes, it is to difficult to judge what the path is like when I'm looking ahead into the horizon. It might seem to be uphill, but perhaps it's not. Or, perhaps, it is slightly, but not in a way that I can't make it.

When I look too far out, my judgement of what is to come is blurred - seeming more difficult than it actually is.

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Part 3.

Also on my bike.

I only notice the wind when I am having to fight against it. I have to consciously think about the fact that the wind is propelling me when it is at my back. Hello faith/life-metaphor.

Second in Command

My heart is aching for a woman and her family in my congregation who have, within the last few hours, heard the devastating news that her 20-something son died this morning in a crash.

This morning, I announced three funeral services in the next two days. It seems like a lot, especially because two of the three were relatively young. And now, this one. The young man had joined our church last March.

I keep searching for news because I want more information about what happened. Not that more information would really help.

It's this strange thing where I'm the pastor of many of these people or their families, but not the pastor people expect to see or hear from in an emergency. I will call and offer condolences, but the one who is "on" in the moment of urgency is my colleague who has baptized, married and buried someone from most families.

I recognize that in this is my desire to do - something - anything - to help. That really, presence and promise, time and tears, hope and listening are what I will offer...but not as the first on the scene.

Putt Putt

I like puttering. When I have things I want to accomplish, but the deadline isn't urgent. When I can just slowly do one thing and then another and see some results, small results, but results all the same.

I got up early this morning to putter. Laundry, dishes, putting things away. But, I'm also going to blog and read a little bit.

Actually, part of puttering is that I don't always follow what I say I'm going to do. But, I'm usually doing something productive - like calling with an insurance question, like I just did in the middle of writing the blog.

Sometimes there is a thrill to high pressure - sometimes I can get much more done in that time, but I really prefer puttering.

Lists are helpful, but not always followed. Breaks sometimes occur spontaneously when I've thought of something I want to do. I move along slowly.

Putt....putt......putt....putt. What a nice morning.

Nothing to See Here

A while ago I asked for No Drama! And, I seem to have gotten what I asked for.

I'm not complaining - at all, I just don't always have a story to tell anymore.

It's nice, but it does keep me thinking.

Part of this no-drama-ese is caused because I am no longer the one in charge. I no longer have to make a lot of decisions. I no longer solely bear the weight and responsibility for a community. I even don't bear the brunt of this weight and responsibility.

I feel different because of this. I'm not exactly sure how to describe it, but I don't feel as vibrant or sharp - I don't have to be. At the same time, I physically and emotionally feel more solid, less anxious. Was I beginning to develop unhealthy co-dependant tendencies? I felt more alive when I was working my way through the muck of individuals, institutional and societal problems.

There are certainly parts of me that miss the intensity of what was. There are certainly parts of me that are grateful to no longer be embroiled in that intensity.

This doesn't make for a good story - but, it's currently a chapter in my story.

I do wonder what's being planted...what am I tending...what am I preparing for? We shall see....regardless of what it is, I still wouldn't mind NO DRAMA.

Party Politics

I believe I was in 2nd grade in the fall of 1984, when the presidential race was between Walter Mondale and Ronald Reagan. Each class voted, and I was aghast to learn that not only did the majority of my elementary school lean right - at least when it came down to Mondale vs. Reagan - but so did my best friend. (I do recognize now that MN was the only chance that Mondale carried anyway - and barely, even though it was his home state).

I'm not sure it was with great intent by my parents, but I was certainly taught from an early age that the Democratic party was the one who regularly had candidates that were the "good" candidates. It became a running joke that the candidates to vote for were the ones who were running against the people whose campaigns signs were in my neighbor's yard. I grew to have major assumptions about people who supported Republican candidates. When my senior English teacher somehow made it be known that she was Republican, I'm pretty sure I responded, "But, teachers are supposed to be Democrats!" At least in my head I responded that way.

College brought me into contact with more people who surprised me with their political leanings...but they were from North Dakota, or small towns. They just hadn't yet learned any better, I decided and judged. And, perhaps I was right in some cases.

But then, following college, I became immersed in liberal - even radically liberal - do-gooder communities. I loved that. That was home. But, it continued to verify to me that Democrats = good, Republicans = bad, or at least misguided.

Now I find myself living and working in the most Republican county in the state. It means some of my neighbors and congregation members have as many strong beliefs and prejudices about those liberal Democrats as I do about Republicans. It's not unusual for me to be on the edge of a conversation at church where people are mocking the existence of global warming, or to receive e-mail forwards from parishioners blasting health care or promoting distrust in Obama. For the most part, these huge statements have either surprised me too much to respond appropriately, or they have not been in contexts where I could easily respond. I'm still figuring that out.

Through the wonders of Facebook, I am sometimes able to tell who associates themselves with which party, and I have regularly been surprised by recognizing people that I thought were of a similar framework as myself associating themselves with the Republican party. I must interject that I have long recognized that I can love people who are Republican - 3 of my 4 grandparents, some other family members, friends, etc. But, these loved ones haven't stopped me from having preconceived notions about those from "the other side."

Last night I got into an incredibly interesting conversation with a couple who I know are Republican. But, it was a conversation not so much about party politics, but about value and hardship and limited resources in inner city schools. I was amazed to hear their point of view was similar to mine. It was one of realism, compassion, a recognition of a broken system, of systemic oppression. I was impressed.

They have no idea I know they are Republican. I'm not sure if they have an idea of where I fall. But, as I sat there in the conversation I realized that I had underestimated them, simply because of a label. I have been underestimating many in my congregation, simply because of an income bracket or a political label. I've recognized intelligence, but not compassion.

This actually makes me more excited to do my ministry. I obviously still hold my beliefs - my prejudices and assumptions - those haven't been broken open by one conversation. However, I am feeling more hopeful about how people will respond to a call to justice - I'm feeling more hopeful for what my work is and my effectiveness. I'm feeling hopeful that my assumptions may not be the end of the story.

(B)Logging

It's time I blog again. I've not had much motivation to blog. I don't have much that I'm needing to process - at least not in writing. Or, I'm getting that writing processing in other ways. But, there are a few reasons for me to blog right now.

1) As with journaling, I think it's important to log the times that are low drama - the times that aren't needing processing - just as much as the high drama - high, need of processing times.

2) I'm enjoying reading the blogs of friends who have continued or recently picked up blogging again.

3) My brother commented that I hadn't blogged recently :) If someone, especially my brother, comments, it gets me thinking about what I might want to say.

4) I'm currently sitting on hold on the phone with a wait time of 20 minutes.

That which should be logged includes both work and play. Work is going well. I'm continuing to grow into this role. I'm starting to be more challenging in sermons and Bible Studies. I'm still feeling like I'm growing into the role more than growing in general, if that makes sense. I always think new roles have a high learning curve of the people and place right at the beginning. While that certainly contains a degree of growth (and that growth - of learning the people and place - is usually what people recognize as growth because they note how things begin to be tailored to their situation more), it's not the kind of growth that I'm ultimately wanting to gain in this role. That growth - of learning about a larger church - about team ministry - about how to not micromanage - is happening, but the other kind of growth needs to happen first - or at least to be the priority - if I'm going to get the most out of the other kind of learning.

But, I'm feeling like I'm given both responsibility and flexibility. I feel respected and accepted. I feel like I fit what I'm supposed to be doing and am doing what I enjoy. I am happy. There is still the challenge of managing time to an appropriate level - but I think I'll always have that pull as long as I continue in this field - or any field that isn't simply a 9 to 5. And when have I ever considered a 9 to 5?

I've always been conscious of the work and home/play balance, but I've had even more of a pull to not over-work this past month because of a relationship with a wonderful man that has been developing. I don't intend to go into great detail in this format about him or our relationship, but I am happy and myself with him.

Finding time with friends is a bit of a challenge, but it has always been - and a bit more so once I moved and switched days off. I'm grateful for friends - both clergy and not - who "get it" when I can't stay out late on a Saturday night. Who I'm able to pick up easily with after not being with them for a month or two - or more.

So, that's my log. Things are going well. I am challenged and accepted - having fun, finding time to go deep with people. I am happy.

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.