29 Parking Spaces

"May every word that I speak, to everyone that I meet, be filled with tenderness."

Stephen Iverson wrote the above sung prayer, which is how we concluded Morning Prayer  today.  Worship continues to be one of the high points of my time here; it frames my day in a way that is very healthy for me.  I invite you to listen to his music on the web - his prayer songs open the heart, which is always a good thing.

I have settled into a good daily rhythm here, with 8:45-noon and 2:30 - 5 as class time.  One day in class is equal to one week in a normal term, so I certainly feel the intensity of the class schedule.  Worship begins and ends the day, and during my lunch break I check in with Melissa and catch up on emails.  Evenings is for reading and this blog.  I am in bed at 9, lights out by 10, with the alarm set for 6 am.  It is a simple schedule, and works very well for me.  I feel my self slowly unwinding...it is a good feeling.

Today was "deconstruction day" - the day when we were gently told that the goal of this course is to teach us to listen and lead in a new way - a completely different way, and to do this we were asked to suspend our usual way of working.  I was quick to note that this new and different way meant not using all the tools I use automatically in my ministry.  Decades worth of training and (now) automatic responses - set to the side.  Gently.  It took but seconds to realize that this left me with an empty tool box, and panic insued!  I think maybe a full minute passed before the pastors in the room started breathing again, as we all contemplated the enormity of this change.  And so I am in the process of setting aside (ever so gently) the tools of my life's work in order to try some new pastoral tools that might fit better in my soul.  I confess to no small amount of fear at this prospect, and know that the tools I've spent a lifetime using are being set aside, not destroyed.  I can pick them up again, should I choose to.  But it will be a choice, and not because they are the only tools I know.

So what does that have to do with 29 Parking Spaces?  Everything.  To recap my mobility conundrum - I live at the bottom of the hill.  Chapel is at the bottom of the hill.  Food is part way up the hill (but there are lots of parking options nearby).  Class is at the top of the hill, and there is limited parking up there.  Very limited parking.  If I can't park at the top of the hill, I will struggle to get to class, as it is impossible for me to walk up the hill.   Each day I have to drive to the top of the hill twice and hope there is a parking space.  All told, that means I have to get lucky 29 times and find a parking space (as of yesterday).  The thought of finding 29 parking spaces in this economy of scarcity was making my heart race, and causing me no small amount of anxiety.

But during a time of silence this morning, that Still Small Voice quietly reminded me that I did not have to find 29 parking spaces today - I only needed two today, and only needed one this morning.  Just one parking space this morning - that is all I needed.  I was also reminded by the ever patient and gentle Still Small Voice that I could trust that the same Spirit that led me here would not abandon me now but would also sustain me on this journey - one parking space at a time. 

Perhaps that same sustaining Spirit will gently relax my hands as they release their death grip on "how I've always approached ministry" and allow me to try some new tools - different tools - and possibly amazing tools.  What a blessing it is that God journeys with us right where we are - in the midst of all our "stuff" - and tenderly "gentles" us onward.

We closed worship tonight with a beautiful prayer song from the Iona Community, which says it all: 

"Take O take me as I am, summon out what I shall be, set your seal upon my heart and live in me."

And so may it be for us all.

With love and blessings,
Kim