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...
Sunday, June 21, 2009
Thursday, June 18, 2009
Risk vs. Comfort
God’s a safe-house for the battered, a sanctuary during bad times. The moment you arrive, you relax; you’re never sorry you knocked.
- Psalm 9:9, THE MESSAGE
The verse above is the daily verse from www.upperroom.org/daily. To me this morning, it really speaks to me about where I have been lately--but it also is a challenge. You see, my experience of life as a disciple is one that is always pushing me forward, challenging me. I've never reached a point where I've felt, "Yes, that's enough." Always there are opportunities to grow, and I know that part of that growth is taking risks. Risks are hard though. Because they present you with the very real possibility of failure.
I guess one of the things you learn as you live (or if you're not learning this, you're probably not taking enough risks) is that failure isn't a dirty word. And at any rate, so often that which we might label "failure" isn't properly that.
This year my husband was planning to launch a big youth festival at the camp he runs. We had a lot of stuff right on target. But other things, some we couldn't control, have meant that this year that event won't happen. Which is sad. And we've really struggled in the past months to see what God wanted us to do, what we could do better, etc. This week is all came to a head and a decision had to be made. But we made it with the firm decision (and lots of plans already for how to do things differently) to hold it next year. We'll put together a planning team, rather than sourcing out as much planning, and also so people are really invested in it. We'll explore making it not just a youth event but also a young adult event. And I'm sure the planning team will come up with lots of other great ideas. It's really hard to see it fade for this year, but there's definitely a comfort in knowing that we haven't let it kill the original intent.
Looking back at my four years in Jefferson as I move forward, there are lots of things that succeeded, but at least as many things that didn't. Or some that just didn't quite meet expectations. There are some things I do perhaps wish we'd decided differently, but at the same time, the willingness to risk and take chances is a prime characteristic of any who would seek to do incredible things. You've got to know when to cut your lossses, but you can't let the fear of failure control you.
And that's where the sanctuary God provides gives any follower peace. See for the disciple, we must remember that we are not called to make ourselves comfortable or settled. God is our comfort. I don't mean that in a sappy Hallmark-moment kind of way. I mean that when things seem upside down and spun around, that's okay, because below, beside and around all that is God's loving embrace. Because of that, I think Christians ought to be model risk-takers! Not reckless, but risk takers in that we're willing to try new things, go new places, and try new things because we know that "nothing - nothing living or dead, angelic or demonic, today or tomorrow, 39 high or low, thinkable or unthinkable - absolutely nothing can get between us and God's love because of the way that Jesus our Master has embraced us." (Romans 8:38-39, THE MESSAGE)
This assurance we have of God's loving presence and sanctuary should never be a justification for staying still or playing it safe. Rather, it should call us to boldly live out the risk-taking, God-relying life that yes, does sometimes mean we don't succeed as wonderfully as we hoped, but always puts us in perilous places where God's amazing power and burst forth.
- Psalm 9:9, THE MESSAGE
The verse above is the daily verse from www.upperroom.org/daily. To me this morning, it really speaks to me about where I have been lately--but it also is a challenge. You see, my experience of life as a disciple is one that is always pushing me forward, challenging me. I've never reached a point where I've felt, "Yes, that's enough." Always there are opportunities to grow, and I know that part of that growth is taking risks. Risks are hard though. Because they present you with the very real possibility of failure.
I guess one of the things you learn as you live (or if you're not learning this, you're probably not taking enough risks) is that failure isn't a dirty word. And at any rate, so often that which we might label "failure" isn't properly that.
This year my husband was planning to launch a big youth festival at the camp he runs. We had a lot of stuff right on target. But other things, some we couldn't control, have meant that this year that event won't happen. Which is sad. And we've really struggled in the past months to see what God wanted us to do, what we could do better, etc. This week is all came to a head and a decision had to be made. But we made it with the firm decision (and lots of plans already for how to do things differently) to hold it next year. We'll put together a planning team, rather than sourcing out as much planning, and also so people are really invested in it. We'll explore making it not just a youth event but also a young adult event. And I'm sure the planning team will come up with lots of other great ideas. It's really hard to see it fade for this year, but there's definitely a comfort in knowing that we haven't let it kill the original intent.
Looking back at my four years in Jefferson as I move forward, there are lots of things that succeeded, but at least as many things that didn't. Or some that just didn't quite meet expectations. There are some things I do perhaps wish we'd decided differently, but at the same time, the willingness to risk and take chances is a prime characteristic of any who would seek to do incredible things. You've got to know when to cut your lossses, but you can't let the fear of failure control you.
And that's where the sanctuary God provides gives any follower peace. See for the disciple, we must remember that we are not called to make ourselves comfortable or settled. God is our comfort. I don't mean that in a sappy Hallmark-moment kind of way. I mean that when things seem upside down and spun around, that's okay, because below, beside and around all that is God's loving embrace. Because of that, I think Christians ought to be model risk-takers! Not reckless, but risk takers in that we're willing to try new things, go new places, and try new things because we know that "nothing - nothing living or dead, angelic or demonic, today or tomorrow, 39 high or low, thinkable or unthinkable - absolutely nothing can get between us and God's love because of the way that Jesus our Master has embraced us." (Romans 8:38-39, THE MESSAGE)
This assurance we have of God's loving presence and sanctuary should never be a justification for staying still or playing it safe. Rather, it should call us to boldly live out the risk-taking, God-relying life that yes, does sometimes mean we don't succeed as wonderfully as we hoped, but always puts us in perilous places where God's amazing power and burst forth.
Tuesday, June 16, 2009
Final Sermon
So my task this morning, as the days wind down on my time at Jefferson, was to work on my sermon for this Sunday--my last Sunday at Jefferson. A few months ago I had some great idea about a sermon series on the lectionary epistle lessons that would culminate in some profound epistle I would write to the congregation. Pentecost kind of killed the sermon series (you can't really NOT preach Acts on Pentecost) and when I sat down this morning to write my momentous epistle, it just seemed awkward and self-important. So, out with that, in with...
Quilting. Yep, that's right. See, I'm a multi-tasker, and as I was getting started this morning, I was looking up guides for learning crochet. I picked up a teach-yourself-how-to kit a while ago when I was heading on a trip and would be sitting on a plane for a while, and recently decided to actually try it. I'm still trying. But that got me thinking about my other crafty hobby, quilting. And since working on sermons makes me generally hyper-reflective, I started thinking about how life, my time at Jefferson, relationships, etc. are indeed like looking just at the underside of a quilt. You are indeed seeing the quilt, but you're not seeing the beauty of it, only the labor of it. And let's admit it, even a quilt made at the hand of a skilled quilter looks a nit messy on the underside. Let alone one made by the rest of us who are just weekend quilters!
I thought of the relationships I've had that seemed so important at the time, but faded away making way (and preparing me) for others--whether friendships, mentor relationships, etc.
I thought of the difficult Ad Council meetings that were just downright uncomfortable. Or the decisions that seemed good at the time that looking back probably weren't the best idea.
I thought of the pain of other's arrogance and self-righteousness as they judge me and others. I thought of my own arrogance and self-righteousness.
I thought of the excitement of that first year, and the labor of the third.
I thought of the questions, the answers and the disagreements. And the wonderful moments of agreement.
I thought of the struggle to discern my answer to the clergy advisory form. And the peace of feeling it was, after all, the best.
I thought of the powerlessness of wondering what the cabinet was up to, and the surprise when the call finally did come.
I thought of all of this, and writing now, so much more comes to mind. The truth is, for all of us, much of life only really becomes clear later on. But that doesn't diminish our ability to enjoy each moment. Indeed, I think part of deep joy comes in know, for good or ill, that we can never really know what the whole story is.
What we can know, however, is whose story it is. It's not my story. Or your story. It's God's story. And that's mightily reassuring. Because God's story is like any good Disney movie: whatever happens in the rest of the movie, you know how it will end. The prince and princess end up together, happily ever after. God's story is like that. In the end, for all the ups and downs, appointments, relationships, successes, failures, pains, struggles, joys and just plain old regular days, God wins. And that's pretty awesome. In fact, that's pretty much the definition of awesome.
Quilting. Yep, that's right. See, I'm a multi-tasker, and as I was getting started this morning, I was looking up guides for learning crochet. I picked up a teach-yourself-how-to kit a while ago when I was heading on a trip and would be sitting on a plane for a while, and recently decided to actually try it. I'm still trying. But that got me thinking about my other crafty hobby, quilting. And since working on sermons makes me generally hyper-reflective, I started thinking about how life, my time at Jefferson, relationships, etc. are indeed like looking just at the underside of a quilt. You are indeed seeing the quilt, but you're not seeing the beauty of it, only the labor of it. And let's admit it, even a quilt made at the hand of a skilled quilter looks a nit messy on the underside. Let alone one made by the rest of us who are just weekend quilters!
I thought of the relationships I've had that seemed so important at the time, but faded away making way (and preparing me) for others--whether friendships, mentor relationships, etc.
I thought of the difficult Ad Council meetings that were just downright uncomfortable. Or the decisions that seemed good at the time that looking back probably weren't the best idea.
I thought of the pain of other's arrogance and self-righteousness as they judge me and others. I thought of my own arrogance and self-righteousness.
I thought of the excitement of that first year, and the labor of the third.
I thought of the questions, the answers and the disagreements. And the wonderful moments of agreement.
I thought of the struggle to discern my answer to the clergy advisory form. And the peace of feeling it was, after all, the best.
I thought of the powerlessness of wondering what the cabinet was up to, and the surprise when the call finally did come.
I thought of all of this, and writing now, so much more comes to mind. The truth is, for all of us, much of life only really becomes clear later on. But that doesn't diminish our ability to enjoy each moment. Indeed, I think part of deep joy comes in know, for good or ill, that we can never really know what the whole story is.
What we can know, however, is whose story it is. It's not my story. Or your story. It's God's story. And that's mightily reassuring. Because God's story is like any good Disney movie: whatever happens in the rest of the movie, you know how it will end. The prince and princess end up together, happily ever after. God's story is like that. In the end, for all the ups and downs, appointments, relationships, successes, failures, pains, struggles, joys and just plain old regular days, God wins. And that's pretty awesome. In fact, that's pretty much the definition of awesome.
Thursday, June 11, 2009
June 11, 2009
I've taken, lately, to using the Upper Room's online devotional resource at http://www.upperroom.org/daily/. I like this resource, honestly, because it's brief and usually has just one verse of scripture. I'm less a fan of the regular Upper Room daily devotional, because though it often has a key verse, sometimes that verse is not from the larger assigned scripture section. What can I say? Stuff like that bothers me. I need sometime simple. I also like that the additional material comes from books, or is a nice prayer or poem...the personal reflections of the regular resource usually distract me more than they help me connect to the text.
That said, though I've often used my journal to reflect on the verse, I thought I'd try blogging...see how I like it...so we'll see...
Today's verse is:
[Jesus] presented his message to [the people], fitting the stories to their experience and maturity. He was never without a story when he spoke.
- Mark 4:33-34, THE MESSAGE
I'm not surprised anymore when the devotional I use hits upon a verse that really speaks to me that day. It's not coincidence. It's God.
So imagine my (non-existent) surprise to see this verse today--the day I decided to finally start reading the new New Interpreter's Handbook of Preaching.
One of the things that has been both incredibly rewarding and challenging about my first (and current) appointment has been preaching week in and week out. For the majority of pastors, this is what they face. It's the job. I must admit, though, that my best preaching disciplines (developed in seminary when preaching twice in a semester-long preaching class was really something) have faltered a bit. The life of a preacher is woven into the life of a pastor, and sometimes decisions (i.e. prioritizing) has to be done. I confess that in the light of others' expectations and my own fatigue, sometimes Sunday's sermon has been less than...er...well prepared.
That said, I'm looking forward to the opportunity of my new position to step back and think a bit more about how I develop my sermons. It's not that I've preached by the seat of my pants for the past 4 years--far from it. But I'm interested to see how a bit slower pacing of sermon prep allows me to fine tune things. I don't want to miss the opportunity, and just fall into the same patterns.
I think the best sermons, messages, speeches I've heard, as well as those I've given which have been best received, have been ones with strong stories. I don't mean cute jokes or stories meant just to tug at the heart strings. I mean well-used, and tied to scripture stories. Heck, often the scripture itself supplies sufficient story-ness.
I love stories. Perhaps that's why history is one of my favorite subjects. I love the connections in stories. The people and characters, personalities. Conflicts and failures; relationships and successes. And Jesus knew that for most people (dare I say ALL people) stories have power. I don't think any of us function well in the abstract. I mean we can do it, but at some point, abstract has to become tangible for us to grasp it.
Jesus used parables most often to describe the most complicated things. He talked again and again in parables about the kingdom of God. Notice that he doesn't give a straight description, but always uses metaphor. The kingdom of God is like...
Speaking in stories is, honestly, my favorite part of being a pastor. I love finding ways to express things to people in ways that help them better understand the world, God and themselves. I tell stories in preaching, pastoral care situations, and business meetings. I compare Christian discipleship and study to fairy tales (the story of the Emperor's New Clothes is my standard tool for explaining the need for more adult Christian education and why we have so little now).
I think it's pretty awesome, actually, that Jesus spoke in stories. I'm so glad that he did. Gives me permission to do the same. Even when it means using Dana Carvey's church lady sketch as a key illustration in talking about evangelism (or rather the opposite of it) or comparing a pastoral dilemma to a recent...or famous...TV episode. Stories are pretty powerful things...
That said, though I've often used my journal to reflect on the verse, I thought I'd try blogging...see how I like it...so we'll see...
Today's verse is:
[Jesus] presented his message to [the people], fitting the stories to their experience and maturity. He was never without a story when he spoke.
- Mark 4:33-34, THE MESSAGE
I'm not surprised anymore when the devotional I use hits upon a verse that really speaks to me that day. It's not coincidence. It's God.
So imagine my (non-existent) surprise to see this verse today--the day I decided to finally start reading the new New Interpreter's Handbook of Preaching.
One of the things that has been both incredibly rewarding and challenging about my first (and current) appointment has been preaching week in and week out. For the majority of pastors, this is what they face. It's the job. I must admit, though, that my best preaching disciplines (developed in seminary when preaching twice in a semester-long preaching class was really something) have faltered a bit. The life of a preacher is woven into the life of a pastor, and sometimes decisions (i.e. prioritizing) has to be done. I confess that in the light of others' expectations and my own fatigue, sometimes Sunday's sermon has been less than...er...well prepared.
That said, I'm looking forward to the opportunity of my new position to step back and think a bit more about how I develop my sermons. It's not that I've preached by the seat of my pants for the past 4 years--far from it. But I'm interested to see how a bit slower pacing of sermon prep allows me to fine tune things. I don't want to miss the opportunity, and just fall into the same patterns.
I think the best sermons, messages, speeches I've heard, as well as those I've given which have been best received, have been ones with strong stories. I don't mean cute jokes or stories meant just to tug at the heart strings. I mean well-used, and tied to scripture stories. Heck, often the scripture itself supplies sufficient story-ness.
I love stories. Perhaps that's why history is one of my favorite subjects. I love the connections in stories. The people and characters, personalities. Conflicts and failures; relationships and successes. And Jesus knew that for most people (dare I say ALL people) stories have power. I don't think any of us function well in the abstract. I mean we can do it, but at some point, abstract has to become tangible for us to grasp it.
Jesus used parables most often to describe the most complicated things. He talked again and again in parables about the kingdom of God. Notice that he doesn't give a straight description, but always uses metaphor. The kingdom of God is like...
Speaking in stories is, honestly, my favorite part of being a pastor. I love finding ways to express things to people in ways that help them better understand the world, God and themselves. I tell stories in preaching, pastoral care situations, and business meetings. I compare Christian discipleship and study to fairy tales (the story of the Emperor's New Clothes is my standard tool for explaining the need for more adult Christian education and why we have so little now).
I think it's pretty awesome, actually, that Jesus spoke in stories. I'm so glad that he did. Gives me permission to do the same. Even when it means using Dana Carvey's church lady sketch as a key illustration in talking about evangelism (or rather the opposite of it) or comparing a pastoral dilemma to a recent...or famous...TV episode. Stories are pretty powerful things...
Humor
So I was looking to inject a bit of humor into this Sunday's sermon, and thought I'd share some funny tidbits here...
Why Men Shouldn't be Ordained
http://www.gbgm-umc.org/rainierumc/rumc_humor.htm#Men
A Classic: The Joyful Noiseletter
http://www.joyfulnoiseletter.com/
Oldy But a Goody: Why God Never Received Tenture at Any University
http://www.gbgm-umc.org/rainierumc/rumc_humor2.htm#Tenure
Why Men Shouldn't be Ordained
http://www.gbgm-umc.org/rainierumc/rumc_humor.htm#Men
A Classic: The Joyful Noiseletter
http://www.joyfulnoiseletter.com/
Oldy But a Goody: Why God Never Received Tenture at Any University
http://www.gbgm-umc.org/rainierumc/rumc_humor2.htm#Tenure
Final Weeks
Okay, I admit it. I fell prey to the rumor. It thought they were right. But no, in fact, things don't slow down in your last weeks in an appointment. Well, let me footnote that by saying that things could certainly be busier, but I've had seldom a down moment. So slower, perhaps...lots of time on my hands? Definitely not.
This week, meetings, women's study and a funeral fill my time, and in between those is the bulletins (now done through my last Sunday and the following week's guest preacher), the pastoral care, the e-mails and the paperwork.
I've made it a point, though, to take time to do some reading, and just finished "Mad Church Disease" yesterday by Anne Jackson. It's a great book (and an easy read) about burnout in the church--whether paid ministry staff, volunteer leaders, or the people who care about them. I definitely recommend this. Whether or not you're currently feeling burned out, Jackson gives some great advice to get healthy and stay that way.
I wanted to share the best story to come out of Annual Conference--well, from those of us buried in the worship room at least. Jenny Smith had brought along a lay woman from her church to help, someone who could work on things even if the rest of us needed to be in session. Deidre was a great person to have--always looking to help, incredibly upbeat, just a great presence. And Deidre had never been to conference before, so as far as she knew, all the fun was in the worship room! Well, most of it is...
So early on, as we're setting up, and there's people coming and going, Deidre was taping down some of the piece on the altar decorations. We'd done bits and pieces as we set up, since we realized the stage was so bouncy that even walking across the stage things shook. As she was focused on this, she noticed a man on stage getting his bearing of where things was. As she continued what she was doing, the man came up and asked her what she was doing, and why. She said she was taping things down so that bishop wouldn't knock things over. The man replied, "I hear he does things like that." And he went on about his business then wandered off. Snap to a bit later, as the procession for opening worship was entering. Who does she happen to see? That same man. Wearing a robe and stole, and carrying the bishop's staff.
Yes, indeed, the man she had spoke with earlier was Bishop Schol.
:-) I just think that's a great story! Always makes me smile.
It does remind me though, of what a shock it will be to go from a place where people know me (today I was in a doctor's office with my cousin who needed stitches and a woman from the UCC church in my town recognized me and we started talking) to a place where many do not. There's both a humility and an isolation in being somewhere people don't know me. For example, spending a college semester in Athens, Greece was one of the best things I think I could ever have done. It forced me to appreciate other cultures more, to be moe humble about my own cultural assumptions, and helped expose me to many new things. New places are like that. But I also remember who terrifying it was to arrive in a town where I didn't speak the native language, and was quite obviously not one of "them". (Freckled skin and reddish hair is not native to Greece...)
I remember too how much I prayed then. I knew I couldn't change the place (even if I wanted too, which would have made it pretty boring) but I prayed and prayed for God to help me adjust. And in accepting the differences, finding ways to be myself there (like finding that cute little Anglican church I attended), I began to feel at home.
I know the same will be true at Calvary. Settling in is more about adjusting to their culture (while staying true to myself and God's call on my life) than it is about changing them to suit me. And anyone whose made that adjustment knows how scary and exhausting it is.
For me, though, I know God has been with me in so many new things, and even out of fear and anxiety, has brought forth great growth and amazing experiences. I'm counting on God to do the same now, as I make this transition.
And really, anywhere that doesn't require a passport to reach (and even many that do) won't be all that foreign. Different. Perhaps greatly so. But all will be well.
This week, meetings, women's study and a funeral fill my time, and in between those is the bulletins (now done through my last Sunday and the following week's guest preacher), the pastoral care, the e-mails and the paperwork.
I've made it a point, though, to take time to do some reading, and just finished "Mad Church Disease" yesterday by Anne Jackson. It's a great book (and an easy read) about burnout in the church--whether paid ministry staff, volunteer leaders, or the people who care about them. I definitely recommend this. Whether or not you're currently feeling burned out, Jackson gives some great advice to get healthy and stay that way.
I wanted to share the best story to come out of Annual Conference--well, from those of us buried in the worship room at least. Jenny Smith had brought along a lay woman from her church to help, someone who could work on things even if the rest of us needed to be in session. Deidre was a great person to have--always looking to help, incredibly upbeat, just a great presence. And Deidre had never been to conference before, so as far as she knew, all the fun was in the worship room! Well, most of it is...
So early on, as we're setting up, and there's people coming and going, Deidre was taping down some of the piece on the altar decorations. We'd done bits and pieces as we set up, since we realized the stage was so bouncy that even walking across the stage things shook. As she was focused on this, she noticed a man on stage getting his bearing of where things was. As she continued what she was doing, the man came up and asked her what she was doing, and why. She said she was taping things down so that bishop wouldn't knock things over. The man replied, "I hear he does things like that." And he went on about his business then wandered off. Snap to a bit later, as the procession for opening worship was entering. Who does she happen to see? That same man. Wearing a robe and stole, and carrying the bishop's staff.
Yes, indeed, the man she had spoke with earlier was Bishop Schol.
:-) I just think that's a great story! Always makes me smile.
It does remind me though, of what a shock it will be to go from a place where people know me (today I was in a doctor's office with my cousin who needed stitches and a woman from the UCC church in my town recognized me and we started talking) to a place where many do not. There's both a humility and an isolation in being somewhere people don't know me. For example, spending a college semester in Athens, Greece was one of the best things I think I could ever have done. It forced me to appreciate other cultures more, to be moe humble about my own cultural assumptions, and helped expose me to many new things. New places are like that. But I also remember who terrifying it was to arrive in a town where I didn't speak the native language, and was quite obviously not one of "them". (Freckled skin and reddish hair is not native to Greece...)
I remember too how much I prayed then. I knew I couldn't change the place (even if I wanted too, which would have made it pretty boring) but I prayed and prayed for God to help me adjust. And in accepting the differences, finding ways to be myself there (like finding that cute little Anglican church I attended), I began to feel at home.
I know the same will be true at Calvary. Settling in is more about adjusting to their culture (while staying true to myself and God's call on my life) than it is about changing them to suit me. And anyone whose made that adjustment knows how scary and exhausting it is.
For me, though, I know God has been with me in so many new things, and even out of fear and anxiety, has brought forth great growth and amazing experiences. I'm counting on God to do the same now, as I make this transition.
And really, anywhere that doesn't require a passport to reach (and even many that do) won't be all that foreign. Different. Perhaps greatly so. But all will be well.
Tuesday, June 2, 2009
In a Daze
So this week is going at a breakneck pace! After dropping off our Korean guests on Sunday, it was back to camp to welcome the staff arriving for the lifeguard training. My husband, then, has been leading the lifeguard training since early Monday, and had a late night (11:30 p.m. before he got home). He'll have long days today and tomorrow, and Iv'e been busy getting bulletins done for church, and tackling the seemingly endless stack of tasks to be accomplished before Annual Conference. I'll head out tomorrow morning, hit church for our morning women's study, do a pastoral visit, then head to Baltimore, to the hotel where Annual Conf. will be, for an arrangements committee meeting, then the rest of the afternoon and evening will be busy with worship set up. It really is pretty insane what remains to be done. I'm taking the "slow and steady wins the race"...except without the "slow" part. Just keep going, and it will get done...or it won't...but at least I'd have given it my best shot!
That said, off to tackle seat labels...you wouldn't think these would be such a task would you? If you'd ever had to figure out where to seat people at Conference your would!
That said, off to tackle seat labels...you wouldn't think these would be such a task would you? If you'd ever had to figure out where to seat people at Conference your would!
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