Spring Break

Once again "spring break" is drawing to a close.  This will be my third such break of seminary and one of six or so breaks.  Every year the same pattern emerges for the break period.  I spend the weeks prior to break saying things like, "I'll get that done during break."  Or, "We'll get together during break."  My head swirls with visions of a clean house, a defeated stack of paperwork, a long list of accomplished visitations, and various other student/pastor fantasies.

However, what actually transpires during break is something entirely different.  Several times in the past the death of a beloved parishioner has occurred during break.  This immediately diverts the bulk of my attention to pastoral care, not only for the family, but for the entire congregation.  It is holy work.

Other times family crises have arisen which garnered the bulk of my break time so that any thoughts of getting "caught up" or "getting ahead" have flown right out the window.  Sigh...this break wasn't any different.

This spring, the bulk of my break time was spend flat on my back in bed with some biological abomination that had by-passed my immune system.   I did little more than sleep and once the immediate crisis was past...recover.  I will return to campus on Tuesday no further along in my journey for accomplishment than when break began.

I will once again return to the practice of "slogging along."

Maybe that is the point.  Maybe my visions of accomplishment are nothing more than a fantasy, a pipe dream.  Maybe the real accomplishment in life is the "slogging along," the putting one foot in front of the other.  Doing what is in front of me and then...doing the next.

Maybe.....the point is to find the beauty and grace of God's presence in the "slogging."  Each moment living in the present being holy, sacred.

Even though Lent is half way through, I believe I will give something up.  My unrealistic expectations of accomplishment.  I feel freer already.

From the Ashes

Friday, March 25, 2011

From the Ashes

From the Ashes

As most of my friends know, the year 2005 was one which held great joy and unbearable sorrow.  In a single night I said yes to a call to ordained ministry rather than licensed local pastor which I had been discerning for several years.  Hours later learned of the death of my youngest child and his beautiful fiance.

The months immediately following were filled with a somnambulant reflex.  I simply put one foot in front of another because I didn't know what else to do.  There was no clear thought, plan, or excitement.  No feeling at all.  I simply began a segment of my life's journey that would hopefully lead to ordination within my denomination.  I did what I believed I was called to do.

This journey of seeming obedience has been filled with land mines.  A love-hate relationship with the God I believed initiated the call/journey.  And an inordinate about of anger.  Anger, rage really, at being called, anger at losing my son, my dreams for him, the daughter of my heart, my dreams for them together.  Anger that held me up, infused me with its energy, kept me safe.  Protected me from my grief.  And now it too is gone.  No anger to keep me safe and no solid life-long image of a God to which I cling.  Burnt out.  Now I am left with ashes.

But, the ashes are not a place of hopelessness.  The ashes will feed the soil from which new life will grow.  They will become a vital part of this new beginning.  With it will come new understanding of myself and of God.  A perfect place to be in this season of Lent.