Two Geese, a Roof Ridge, and Settling in for the Long Haul

"I wish there were shortcuts to wisdom and self-knowledge:  cuter abysses or three-day spa wilderness experiences.  Sadly, it doesn't work that way.  I so resent this."  Anne Lamott, "Stitches"

*****

I was once told that it wasn't technically an experience in the wilderness if it looked familiar and came with a roadmap...or a Starbucks drive-thru.  That simply experiencing discomfort, or putting half of a foot outside of the beloved comfort zone doth not a trek into the wilderness make.

Pity.  I could sure use some landmarks right now.  And that was my second clue that I had crossed into a thin space that holds the possibility for transformation.  The first clue was the inner desire to run screaming in the opposite direction toward what is familiar and known.

Definitely thin space.  Liminal space.  Misty.  Foggy.  Steeped in possibility.  All I have to do is breathe deeply and settle in for the journey and stop fighting it - stop focusing on the feeling of panic rising deep in my brain that connects immediately to my gut and pumps up the adrenaline and sends me running toward where I think the exit might be -  but it is misty - foggy - and I can't find the exit, so in a panic I start looking for signs of the familiar...signs to lead me back to what I know...

...and that is not helpful (stop).   I remember this from prior experiences in the wilderness - you can exhaust yourself trying to run back, and waste heaps of time in the process.  And going back is not really your heart's desire.  So you stop looking for signs that take you back, and instead (after a rest), start making peace with the wilderness.  I remember - you do not leave until after you have settled in for a stay.  Sadly, Annie is correct - there are no three-day spa wilderness experiences.

The journey is lonely, so I've asked John the Baptist to keep me company - whether he does so as a saint, story or root metaphor is up to him.  I want an experienced traveling companion as I get acclimated to this wilderness, and he seems to know his way around.  He is not afraid of the real - in real time - and has no need to pretty it up.  He lets it be - and takes it right back to the basics.  Repentance - change of direction - change of heart - metanoia.  He is not so interested in hearing me carry on about why I find this time in the wilderness to be distressing - after all, I signed on for this.  It is the desire of my heart to deepen my relationship with God - to live more fully in Spirit - to reflect more deeply that which is Christ.  That happens here.

I feel the fear - that is real.  And trust me, I hold no judgment against the people of Israel as they looked back over their shoulders and longed for Egypt - I get it.  But as I let those feeling pass - and they do - I start to settle in to the stark beauty of this place of passage.  And I know that all is well.

Time to look and listen from my heart - and to allow this to unfold, in its own time, and in its own way.  (Which means I am not in control - and I truly hate that).  But I do have control over some very important choices:

- I can choose to release the panic and stop racing towards the exit
- I can choose to settle in to this place of transformation, even though it is so - so - wild
- I can choose to put into practice all I have been learning about a balanced, contemplative life, and
     allow these lessons to sustain me on this journey
- I can trust the process, and stop searching for the map leading out of this wilderness - I will
     emerge when it is time
- I can open my heart to the many ways that God lovingly "gentles" me through this time of passage
- I can be.  Now.

The early morning drive to church was beautiful, with an amazing rosy sky before me, and my head full of thoughts.  "Will I know what to do, or where to go?  Will I know which way to go?  Will I see clearly?"  As these thoughts raced on their familiar circuit through my brain, that quiet voice in my heart told me to look to my left.  Off to my left was a hotel - and high on top of the roof ridge stood two Canada Geese, surveying all that was before them.  And the voice said, "when it is time, you will see clearly."  And I laughed -  these two webbed creatures on top of a hotel roof ridge taking it all in - picking the right next spot to land.  The voice said, "you've got this."  I took a deep breath and said, "I've got this."  Then I added, "we've got this" -

- this is not a journey to make alone.

Resting for the night,
Kim

Lenten Road Trip

One of the few characteristics I shared with my father was a love of long distance driving.  My mother hated riding in the car, and made sure that she could survive within a 10 block radius of home.    Dad, on the other hand, loved the open road, and very much wanted to be a long-haul trucker (mom said no).  In later life he settled for short-haul, and a tow truck.  He let me drive the tow truck once - I loved it.  I'm not sure if one can have a genetic predisposition for such things, but this is one of the only characteristics from dad that I can celebrate.

I felt dad keeping me company today on my long drive into the unknown, especially during the unexpected snowstorm ("Sissy, keep going - if you stop you'll just get stuck").  On the one cross-country trip I took with dad, he used the same approach to deal with a flash flood and tornado - he scared me half to death, and dined on that story for decades!  And we didn't get stuck - we just kept going.  Every time I hear the country song with the refrain "When you're going through hell, keep on going" I think of that trip, and dad - who never had the sense to stop (which was his undoing as often as it was his salvation).

Almost any day is a great day to be under the big Western sky.  I love the West!  I may have been born in Buffalo, New York, but my soul belongs to the Rockies.  Recently I have been wound "as tight as a coiled spring," and this drive was just what was needed to start the process of unwinding.  A plane flight doesn't provide the same soul medicine as hours of sagebrush and wide open spaces.  Even hitting that unexpected snowstorm did little to dampen my mood.  Although hours of country music would please dad, I remembered to bring cds and let Joni, Pema and Croz keep me company (Joni has written the soundtrack for most of my life, Pema is an incredible teacher, and Croz gives me hope that one's creativity can improve with age - and in his case, sobriety).  The first half of Pema Chodron's new teaching was wonderful, but I put it on towards the end of the trip, and had to turn it off when I found myself relaxing way too much - back on went the loud country station!  Dad was once again happy, and I became re-acquainted with the seven deadly sins as reinterpreted by Nashville.

A "discernment road trip" is a unique way to begin the Lenten journey, but you play the card's you're dealt (so says a country song).  Just yesterday on Ash Wednesday I meditated on Chaplain Scott Clark's reflection on the following Franciscan blessing:

"The Blessing of Discomfort - May God bless us with discomfort - at easy answers, half-truths, and superficial relationships, so that we may live deeply and from the heart."

I shared his words at our Ash Wednesday gathering, and found that they were still rumbling inside my heart today as I drove those "miles of endless highways."  Although a large part of the vocational discernment process involves sensing whether or not a congregation and I might be a good match,  that sensing is best done by the heart (assisted by the head).  Church profiles, statistical breakdowns, mission and vision statements, only tell part of the story.  The mind is gifted at seeing patterns and trends; the heart is attuned to essence and Spirit.  In past vocational decisions my mind has made the decisions (either/or); this time, mind is in service of heart (both/and - with heart encompassing mind).  Ouch - I feel a pinch even as I write those words - discomfort over departing from the familiar as I enter unknown territory.  Let the "Lenten Discomforting Process" begin!

My Lenten disciplines this year?  There are several that relate to being a good steward, but the most important one involves intentionally living deeply from my heart - listening through my heart - speaking through my heart - trusting my heart - sharing my heart - learning from my heart.  I can think of no better way to follow in the footsteps of Rabbi Jesus, who lived deeply from his heart, and thus was led deeply into the heart of God.

To be - to dwell - to rest - in the heart of God.  Could that be the ultimate destination of our Lenten Road Trip?  Of our human experience?

If you haven't set out on your Lenten journey, don't wait.  Set out now, in your own way, with your own wonderings.  Make use of the many great resources available to us.  Allow God to set the itinerary and to be both your travel companion, and your destination.  Notice those places of discomfort, let them be your teachers, and see how they might lead you through your own heart and into the heart of God.

Blessings for the journey,
Kim

PS - Most "memorable" stretch of paved road:  The right lane from past Burley, Idaho to Snowville, Utah - a marvel of multi-level/multi-texture pavement.  Best avoided in heavy rain.

The World's Quietest Robin Still Sings

The past week has been interesting.  I have watched hail and snow fall like it was a deep winter blizzard, sat outside in short sleeves and soaked up the sun, enjoyed the very early morning sky and its stars, and saw my first robin (Thursday).  I almost missed the robin - as is often the case when it comes to unexpected blessings.  I was walking from the church to my car when I heard the faintest of bird songs - almost too quiet to hear!  I looked up, and there was my first robin of spring, singing in a most tentative way.  Perhaps the earlier flurries made it question the wisdom of a full-throated ode to spring.  Maybe there were no competitors for territory near by.  Maybe the poor thing was too cold to sing!  Or maybe the full song has yet to emerge for this bird.  Maybe it still needs time.

It is said that when a robin comes into your life you can expect new growth to occur in a variety of areas - and it is also said that you have to sing your own song if you want this new growth to occur.  I confess that I, like the robin, am singing my song a bit tentatively right now.  Change, be it in the seasons or in other aspects of life, can leave one feeling quiet and a bit subdued.   I know this is true of humans, but perhaps robins have their own psychic version of adjustment and acceptance.

I have resigned as Senior Pastor at Boise First - a decision that was weighed out with buckets of tears and baskets of hope.  It was not an easy decision to make, yet when time came for a decision, it was the only one that made sense - for everyone.  The church and I are now free to grieve the pain of parting, celebrate the work we have done together, and look forward to what comes next as our ministries part.  The tears continue - I keep tissue in the pocket of my preaching robe, so I am ready for the moment after worship when I join someone in sorrow - leaving people you love (or being left) is painful - it hurts!  Even though I hope this will ultimately be for the best, it still hurts.  And I grieve...

...and I see the robin.  And the buds on the trees.  And the early morning light.  I see the signs of new life opening all around me.  And I hope.

I do not know yet where I will land, nor do I know the journey this church will take during its transition time.  I will stay with them until the end of April;  what happens after that is knowledge God has yet to share!

And that is surprisingly ok.  I note with interest that I am not feeling anxious about the future (although one of the very shrill voices in my head says I should be extremely anxious).  Instead, I feel quite calm about going through the search and call process, and trusting the Spirit to lead me to a church where we will have a good fit, and minister together for many years to come.

I have done several "search and call processes" since I was ordained many years ago, but this one is entirely different.  In the past, I have gone to wherever I sensed the greatest need, and felt a match between the church's need and my training/gifts.  This time, it is a different journey.  I sense that I need to go to a reasonably healthy church, and so instead of going where I sense the greatest need, I am doing the search through my heart, and listening for where my heart tells me to go.  And that brings me back to another quality of  "robin medicine" - robins, with their creativity, energy, and commitment to raising the next generation, are said to live from the heart.

May I learn the lesson of the robin, and allow my heart to lead me to my next home.

Singing my song quietly and tentatively,
Kim

The Mystery of Timing - or - Life's Vocation

As I ponder the salt and light of tomorrow's sermon, I watch the snow/sleet/rain falling outside and realize that if this had been last week's weather, I would never have made it back for Sunday worship.

How much different this week might have been!  Or would it...

But here we are - and I ponder just what it means to bring light and salt into all places of life - even those that feel dark and tasteless.

Light brings clear seeing - helps things to grow - allows us to see color - gives power - can bring healing when focused - and keeps us from tripping and falling in the dark.  Salt can preserve, was used in worship, and can enhance the flavor of food.

To enhance
To see clearly
To help bring forth growth
To see color (diversity)
To be empowered
To bring healing
To guide to safety
To preserve

To work with God to be salt and light in our blessed world - wherever we are - whatever our circumstances...sounds like a life's vocation to me.

Pondering life while listening to Russian Chant and watching the snow fall,
Kim

Winnemucca by Starlight

Tonight brings me to Winnemucca, where I am staying at the "Model T Casino, Hotel and RV - Home of the Fill'er Up Diner" (suffice it to say that when you book this place by phone or online, you book through Quality Inn.  The rest is a surprise upon arrival).

I drove here by starlight, having reached Reno just as dusk settled.  With clear skies and a favorable weather forecast, one last push made good sense - especially with a sky full of stars and one beautiful bright "traveling star" staying in my field of vision through the passenger side window. That being said, I want to give a shout out to the kind truckers who, during the unexpected snowstorm and white outs about 47 miles W of Winnemucca, let me slip my little car into the "rocking chair" until the road conditions improved.  The kindness of strangers is always a sweet gift.

The drive was otherwise uneventful.  I left a little after 1 pm, thanks to a 2nd year classmate who helped me load my car - what a blessing!  Traffic was moderate to Sacramento, and then heavy almost until Auburn.  It snowed over Donner, but nothing was sticking to the road.  The trees looked enchanted - it was beautiful.  And before I knew it, I was driving through Reno.  I think I stopped wiping my eyes around Auburn.  Until then, it was an intermittent flow of tears of joy and sadness.

I have seen some amazing things during this past three weeks - witnessed the movement of the Spirit in ways I never dreamed possible.  There were times when I wanted to remove my shoes, for it felt like I was standing on holy ground.   More often than not, I was indeed standing in a "thin place."

Three years ago, eight of us began this three year Intensive cohort.  By year two, two had resigned, and one had joined us.  We are an amazingly diverse group in every way possible, but through the intensity of the program coupled with our praying together, we formed a bond that is indescribable.  We experienced love in a new way - a powerful way - because this love helped each of us to more fully become our true selves.  We experienced church/community in such a clear and true form - both within our group, and within the larger community that held sacred space for us.  I am amazed and awed by the growth that has happened in all of us.

Saying goodbye was heartbreaking - it was like leaving members of my family.  Four of our group will remain in the Bay Area (for now), and three of us have further travel to get to our other homes and families.  I have no doubt that each of us cherishes what we have experienced and witnessed.

What God has done in our lives through the mystery and miracle of community is incredible!  How God has ministered to each one of us through another takes my breath away.  We were blessed with a Master Teacher and Preacher (and theologian, and Pastor, and Prophet) for our last course, and his words were manna from heaven - and strong medicine.  He embodied a lifetime of faithful witness and service - his level of integrity and credibility was second to none.  I never left a lecture without having heard the words I needed for life - God working through one person to minister to many.  I suspect his words will continue ringing in my heart for a long time to come (both the strong medicine and loving affirmation).

Thursday night at Chapel I met a sister UCC minister and retired professor from Emory; again, she embodied the grace and compassion of a life of loving service.  I will use her profound words on Sunday for the Communion Service that celebrates Black History Month.  I will never forget the depth and tenderness in her eyes.  She walks with a cane, and does so with grace and dignity (without any of the judgment that plagues me).  At one point during the evening, she wrapped her arms around me to give me a hug, and I instantly knew that it was God hugging me through her.  I felt the most amazing peace and loving tenderness envelop me - sacred space -  God working through the life and love of one person to minister to another.  I lost all sense of time - I only knew that I was loved, and that was enough!

Lives changed - hard truths spoken - challenges met - fears faced - love given and received - boxes of tissue emptied - laughter shared (our cohort is know for our quirky sense of humor - we make videos to bring a lighter side to the serious work we do, and these videos have taken on a life of their own)!  All of this within the container - the crucible - the safe space - the gift - of community.

I am transformed because of what I have seen and experienced.  I honor God's gift when I share this experience with others - helping to create community where transformation happens for all who accept its invitation.

Tomorrow, it is back to Boise, and goodbye to the good people of Winnemucca (who are, by far, the friendliest people I have ever met).  This visit's "friendliest minimum wage worker award" goes to the drive-through cashier at the Burger King - if her enthusiasm and kindness could be bottled and shared, the world would be unrecognizable!

And Sunday it is back to my duties at the church.  If I can bring a small part of what I have experienced these three years in Intensive into my ministry at Boise First, I will not only honor the keepers of the sacred space - people who have taught me so much - but I will give my congregation a precious gift.

Oh - what I have witnessed!   What I have seen, and heard - and known to be true!

Awed by God's grace,
Kim

Slow Books

January Intensive is almost over - how did that happen?!?  It seems like it was only yesterday that I was driving into the Bay Area in the dark and at rush hour on a Friday night, feeling the shock of no longer being in the vast unpopulated expanses of Idaho and Nevada.  And then before I could catch my breath, Course 1 of the Intensive was underway, and I was buried alive in books.  The first course was truly quantity over quality - a ridiculous amount of material had to be covered in an extremely short period of time, so we read (and read and read).  What was actually integrated remains to be seen!

I was relieved to see that the books for Course 2 were in paperback and looked much smaller.  And with a master teacher at the helm, the pace (although very intense), felt less manic.  Noticing that we only had two small books assigned for this weekend past, I thought for sure I would find time to go to the coast and enjoy this beautiful sunshine...

...but it was not to be.  And I am not complaining, because one book was written by Howard Thurman, and the other by Abraham Joshua Heschel.  With my plans effectively shelved, I curled up on the sofa and enjoyed a weekend of reading slow books - books that are meant to be savored and read word by word, line by line.  What a treat!

It is hard to believe that I will be leaving here on Friday to make the drive back to Boise.  There is much I will miss, and I already look forward to my first DMin summer course!  But although there is much to miss, there is more that I will carry with me into my life and ministry.  Without a doubt, these three Intensives have been the most valuable experiences since Seminary.  I cherish what they have taught me about ministry, and look forward to honoring this work by faithfully putting it into practice.  Slowly - intentionally - deliberately - tenderly -

- and joyfully!
Kim

Peace, Love & Community - A Healthy Church

Each weekday of Intensive begins and ends with Chapel, and at 5:15 pm Chapel we share in Communion.  Once the words of Institution and prayers are said and the bread broken and wine (juice) poured, we form a circle to receive communion.  After communion is received, we join hands and sing one closing song before greeting each other with the Peace of Christ.  Tonight we sang:  "Let us live in justice, love in mercy, dwell in God with a humble heart."  Each time the humble chorus is repeated, the intensity, power, and volume seems to build until I half expect the chapel roof to split open!  And I always (always) cry - tears of joy, tears for the beauty of community, tears of hope that what we experience here can somehow be nurtured in our parishes - that this incredible power can bring transformation to our world.

The beauty and power of community is unbelievable.  I watch, utterly amazed, at how in this crucible of worship, study and practice we quickly form community.  This community is shaped by a covenant of conduct, shared expectations and commitments - and shared experiences.  We pray and worship together, we share some meals together, we learn, struggle and are stretched (almost to the breaking point) together.  We laugh together (often), and support one another without trying to fix, enable, or manage one another.  Sometimes we disagree (strongly), but use our mutual respect and community covenant to help us express big feelings in a constructive way.  Although we come from extremely diverse backgrounds, cultures and theologies, we find a bond of unity that is strong and life-giving.

We become the Body of Christ.

The power of this experience sometimes takes my breath away.  I am awed by it - and wonder about what will happen as each of us try to bring some of this back to our churches and communities.

What does it take to facilitate the formation of deep community in our local congregations?  What type of crucible helps to form this kind of community within a local church?  I think this is the missing element in so many church experiences today - not a clash over technology in worship vs. no technology in worship, or contemporary vs traditional worship experiences, but a strong experience of community vs. a weak or no experience of community.  And with no sense of community, there is no desire for further involvement or investment.  Church becomes just another organization that does good things, and has pretty meetings on Sunday morning.

We come to Chapel each day during Intensive not only to worship God, but to be there for our sisters and brothers - to be community.  The same is true for shared meals, supporting one another in lecture or small group, or just being the best listener we can be - we bring this for one another, because we are the Body of Christ in this place, and try bring Christ to each other.

What does it take to invite the experience of community that transforms lives and churches?
I expect to ponder that question for the rest of my time here at SFTS.

*****
An quick aside - since moments of humor are absolutely necessary when attending an Intensive and living with big questions -      

Best Business Name in San Anselmo:  Peace, Love & Grilled Cheeses - A Hair Salon
       (gotta love California)!

Pondering all of this - while being held in community, and remembering to laugh,
Kim