Seeking Authentic Voice

Recently I started watching Grey's Anatomy. This comes after a long time of refusing to watch it based on commercials that emphasize the sexual exploits of these "medical professionals." I am just tired of watching violence and sexual infidelity on TV, not to mention the reality shows ( OK , I've never actually watched a reality TV show, except the dancing ones...). So, most of the summer I watched "Whose line is it anyway?" But somehow one night I found myself watching Grey's Anatomy, and for a while I was hooked. Now, I don't know??? One night last week the episode ended with the main character, Meredith Grey, literally standing between the two men she is involved with, one a married doctor and her passion, the other a widowed veterinarian for whom she is his passion. Both were asking her to take her home from this pseudo-prom (you had see the show), and she stood there unable to decide. The next night continues the story, who knows how she got ho

One of my favorite things to do is walk my dogs in the dog park. We have two dogs, a lab-mix about 70lbs and a vizsla, about 50 lbs. At first we had only the lab-mix, whom I dutifully walked everyday, until I became a full time priest at this little church. Then her best form of exercise became sitting in the back yard watching the birds and bunnies. About four years later we decided it was time to add to our household (as if two parents and two kids, two cats, 5 birds, and a frog, were not enough). So, we went looking for a puppy and came home one day with a 16 week old Vizsla. She, this new pup, now a dog, is a bundle of joy. If a dog can express "HAPPY" she oozes joyfulness. Walking her, because she is bred to hunt birds (which we do not do), she is prone to springing straight up in the air and spinning in circles. Now, this is a great skill when she is in the tall grasses of an open field, I can see her and she can see me, but it is a bit disconcerting walking down the si

Last night I learned that a friend of mine, who has been active in a job search, was not the one called. She, a young woman in her mid thirties with two kids, was so excited about this church. I understand, having been in her shoes a few times myself. First you invest so much of yourself into the process, learning all about the people and their ministries. Working hard to make sure you express yourself and your gifts; revealing the depth of your integrity, skill, and compassion. You fall in love. Discerning a call to a church is like entering into a long term relationship, and oh, the heart ache when it doesn't turn out the way you hope.... Those of us in the Episcopal tradition consider a job search to be a call of the Holy Spirit...maybe others think this way as well? So, what is the Holy Spirit conveying when one person is called and another is not? I think that God, given the impact of free-will (oh, what a precious gift!), I think God invests God's self in these searches

Ok, I won't actually be 50 until February. But I am already thinking about it. My husband, who is younger than I by10 months, will turn 49 in Dec., and then wammo, I turn 50. At this moment, the aspect about turning 50 that most consumes me: those hairs, the coarse stubble growing on my chin. Eleven years ago, when I started seminary, I first noticed these hairs. One here or there, usually under my chin, an area approaching my neck - almost impossible to pluck those hairs out....Now they grow in clusters on one side of my chin. Coarse and sharp and a bunch of them all at once. I could wax them off, but first I'd have to tolerate their growth until they were long enough to wax....And when I pluck them out more are just waiting to grow in...plucking these determined little hairs is harder than one would imagine. They cling to their little follicles, or what ever it is they "grow" in, and refuse to give up that space. Tenancious little hairs mocking the fact that the res

Another rainy, foggy, morning. In some ways I am grateful for the rain, it gives me permission to lay low. After two intense weeks of work, burying a beloved parishioner, and living through our first major parish fundraiser, (what FUN there is in fundraisers, especially when the proceeds are going to help others), life has taken on a slower pace. Time to think. I really enjoyed the fast pace of pulling together the church and parish for these two events. I thrive on having lots of good work to take care of. It can be challenging to me, serving a small parish, where not a lot happens on normal basis. I know I tend to get things going and make myself busy, I could get away with doing a lot less for the church. Maybe then I would clean my house more (yes, that's good work too, most days it just doesn't really interest me)... Back before all this busyness began, in early August, I was in a job search, a finalist for a BIG place, "The Bigger Pulpit" as the NY Times article

So, here I begin, at least this aspect of seeking authentic voice. Today my 9th grade son and three of his friends came home for lunch, all were discussing the fact that today is Sept. 11. I asked them if they remember this day 5 years ago - wow, they say, we were in 4th grade. That's how they remember it, by their grade. I remember it; we had just lived here a month, I was a new rector at the parish I serve, my first official position in charge. What to do? How to care for frightened people, children, self? We held a spontaneous prayer service that night. We called everyone in the parish, left messages, invited everyone to come and pray. We gathered as community. We cried. We offered hope and faith in the God who loves us. We mourned for innocence and for the loss of innocent lives.