Last Sunday

It's the strangest thing. I feel like someone without a home nation or something. Just about, at least.

This morning I preached my final sermon at Jefferson. I didn't think I would cry (I don't know why, I am not a rare crier) but it started even before the service when people stopped in as I was readying things for the service. We had the service. I said some words about life being like the underside of a quilt, I had the blessing of performing one last baptism (and for the first child of a couple whose wedding I'd performed there), greeted people and said goodbye, had a reception, and showed the VBS folks how to run the sound system. Then, I was done. Except for popping in tonight to greet the start of VBS, I am without congregation (save for pastoral emergencies) for a week and a half. It's a strange feeling. After four years of having one identity, to be between places is just weird.

And on top of that, today is the first day of the summer camp season at Manidokan, and I don't really have a role. Chris has a program director (we didn't have one last year so I filled in a bit in my spare time), and the staff are on top of things. So I have been helping with a task here and there. My big role today? Handing out the t-shirts for the volunteers. I must say, though, I think I did quite well at that. They all have t-shirts, so I've succeeded.

I don't think I can really explain what I'm feeling right now. It's not like there's some huge void in me. I haven't lost myself or anything dramatic. I just feel...in limbo. Not in a bad way, just in a "This is cool but let's not have this last forever" sort of way.

Saying goodbye is difficult, but having done it leaving schools, summer church internships, etc., it's okay. It's emotional, and it's sometimes painful, but I think each one is both different and perhaps (one hopes) a bit easier. And for a pastor, I suppose it's always a good thing, each time we leave, to be reminded that life goes on. No congregation is dependent on us (if they are, that's not at all something to be celebrated).

So this evening, I'll pop in to VBS. I'll say hello. And goodbye. And life will go on. Their VBS will be wonderful, and they'll be perfectly fine without me. And that is perhaps one of the things I'm happiest about. It makes it much easier to leave.

They. Perhaps that's one of the smallest but biggest changes. From now on, Jefferson will be "they." and Calvary will be "us." but for the next week and a half, I guess it's just pronoun limbo...