Rhythm
I have five preaching opportunities coming up in the next seven weeks, three of them paying jobs, two of them for the parish whose rectory I'm living in. That's more preaching than I have done since last August. Ten months of living without the weekly rhythm that has marked my life for 10 years. Last night I took my dogs outside for the last time before bed as we do every night. I stood under this huge oak tree, under a half moon, in the humid but cooling night temperature and took a deep breath. I do love it in Chicago. I do hope I find a job in this area and can stay here. I love the green most of all. The varied hues of green grass and trees are lush, they saturate my eye, with a soothing peace. My eyes, grown accustomed in just a few years to the harsh brown of sand, pale greens of cacti, and the intense vibrant splashes of desert flowers and short scrubby trees, relax in the shades of Midwest green. I stood outside with my dogs under a huge oak tree and grieved the los...