A Real Town

Today, the best thing in the whole world happened. We got a bookstore. Books A Million opened today in all of its splendor and glory. It seems too good to be true. All of this time I've been taking deep meditative breaths to calm myself so that I can stay in this little town connected to the world of books by a tiny cable linking me to the glorious Amazon.com (please link from my site!), but now I can officially browse in person. I went in today, opening day, and felt that all was well with my soul. The little coffee bar sat off to the side and the rows and rows of new, non-dusty books brought color to my cheeks. The entire right hand side of the store (or at least 3/4 of it) was covered in children's books and an additional 4 aisles of children's books presented me with wonderful historical autobiographies like Who Was Johnny Appleseed? and other such books that every child needs to have. My youngest sat down and began reading immediately, carefully turning the pages of books we won't buy. My oldest browsed as intensely as her parents had taught her, reading story summaries and series openers, studying content and asking questions about classics like Black Beauty, The Hobbit, & The Adventures of Tom Sawyer. Oh, life is good in the swamplands of Florida! Our new shopping center also has a crafts store, a shoe store, a discount clothing store (without many discounts), and a Panera Bread Company. I indulged in a Portobella and Mozzarella Panini that was to die for and how happy I was when my daughter was able to order an organic chocolate milk. Of course, now that we have "arrived" I can still order for less online and I probaby will. (I so enjoy being "surprised" by packages arriving at my doorstep!) I'll also frequent our local used bookstore where I typically find all kinds of sappy love stories begging me to read them. After all, I believe in giving mom & pop stores a lot of business. But occasionally it's nice to know that I can splurge and pretend that I am not living on the end of the earth, far removed from chain stores (or stores of any kind for that matter.) The other good thing that is happening around here is that our northerners are beginning to come back, meaning our roads will soon be crowded with people who shouldn't be on the road but are because they crave their own independence over any one else's safety. Whoops! I think I said the other "good" thing that is happening . . . well, SINCE the northerners are returning, our produce stand officially reopened today. As I drove down the road, my eldest daughter let out a "whoop!" for fresh produce. Ahh, my dear sweet darlin'!

So this is the news from Arbuckle Creek, where the population doubles when October rolls around, the community gathers for Bookstore openings, and children still watch for alligators in their backyards. (the local community paper -- 8 pages/month! -- told us that a 12 footer had been removed from our canals! Yikes!)

Ramblings

I had no idea it had been a week since I've posted. Geesh, I've become a slacker! It HAS been a busy week - lots of church members in the hospital and even more people walking into my office needing to talk. To tell you the truth, I can't remember the last time my office time was so full. One day I was meeting with someone who wanted to plan his own funeral (and I really respect those who want to have everything together ahead of time. He is nowhere near death as far as I can see, but it's still a very heavy subject!) While he was there, another person who had visited the church wanted to talk. She's living with her son because she had become homeless as a FL real estate agent. The market is that stale right now. But she also talked a lot about her own faith and what she believed was a call into ministry. I appreciated her openness with me and her trust. Later in the week I spoke with a parent of a very sick child and calmed her fears and worries. Our children's program started and was pure chaos. Then a church member threatened to leave the church if something couldn't be worked out. By the time she and I met the next day, she had calmed down and just wanted to sit and listen for God in her life. Our conversation was peaceful after what had been a really intense anger from her. Problem after problem after problem. But you know what really troubled me was that this woman said to me that she couldn't read me -- that I was closed in some way. And I've been thinking about what it could be . . . why she would feel that. I feel I'm pretty transparent most of the time, but maybe I'm not with my own congregation. There's a part of me that tries to keep my own life separate from the needs and concerns of my congregation. It's one of those 'boundary' things -- as muct as I'm immersed in their lives, I need people outside the church to be my confidants, to be my friends. I'm wondering if perhaps I need to be more transparent with them. Most people open up to me easily (as seen by this week's fullness) but I'm starting to wonder where the line is or where it should be drawn.

I'd appreciate your responses for this Arbuckle Creek dweller. I think I'm going to head into town where the Books A Million is scheduled to open any day now! Peace.

Joy and Its Opposites

I didn't have to preach today and it was WONDERFUL! I still had the opportunity to lead worship via the liturgy and to surround my congregation in prayer, but I didn't have to preach. In the Presbyterian Church (USA), churches without pastors are to observe their candidates for their pastorate from a neutral pulpit. My church was the neutral pulpit and it was so refreshing to hear the scriptural story told from a different point of view. I got to do this a few weeks ago with my friends in California, but it was really nice to experience this in my own congregation. While I "robed up" and sat in the chancel, I got to share worship leadership with someone else. It felt really good. The other part that felt good was that he was right out of seminary and I was the "elder" -- at least in terms of experience (I couldn't tell how old he was.)

But, with the joy of my Sabbath from preaching, I also learned that three of my parishioners had been hospitalized Friday and Saturday. Some people just don't call their pastor or anyone else because they don't want to ruin our weekends. But, as I was bursting with joy, the weight of their sorrow lay heavy on me. I went to visit them right after church and was struck by their fear. One was the man with the pacemaker I had mentioned in a previous post. He had finally gotten a better pacemaker and it kicked him this weekend. Within six weeks he's gone from an active participant in our church and a great genealogist to a man who lays still in bed, afraid he will die. And with the number of heart attacks he's had in the last 6 weeks, it really is a miracle he is still alive. But I don't want him to go. As I stood by his bed in the ICU, I was able to utter "God be with you 'til we meet again" but couldn't bring myself to ask him if he needed to talk about death. It was the elephant in the room with us, hovering. We didn't want to speak it into existence yet both of us knew that it was close, even if it was held at bay. I just want him well! And I've come to love my parishioners so much over these years. I don't want to see another die. The other two were not as critical, but both were afraid and both had wives who were exhausted from spending the night in the ER. I was struck by the many opposites of the Joy I had felt earlier in the day: fear, pain, suffering, exhaustion, sorrow, and the list continues. And so I pray.

Rainbows

I was driving back today from town when I caught sight of one of the largest rainbows I've ever seen. It stretched from one lake to another and filled the whole sky with beauty. It was full of bright pastels and, as I pulled back into my own little village, I noticed that it was a double rainbow. Whenever I see a rainbow I try to remember God's promises to us, the blessing of life, the fortune of being able to live a life where I can take time to notice rainbows. But I also found myself, as the AM station in my car was tuned to the Tennessee/Florida game, pretending that God's promises were only for me and my beloved Tennessee team as they were getting eaten alive by those hungry Florida Gators. As that thought passed through my mind I began to laugh. For while I do believe God cares about the intricately important details of each of our lives while also responding to the large scale concerns of the earth and the universe, I don't expect God to intervene in a playoff between two teams. I don't envision God choosing the team that will win based upon the number of believers in either of the cheering stands. Nor do I envision God choosing the team that will win based upon the authenticity of the pre-game prayer. Nor, despite what I heard a couple of nuns saying about their NBA favorites to the NPR anchor, do I believe that screaming prayers at the TV screen will make a heck of a lot of difference. But I do believe in God's promises -- like "I will be with you until the end of the age." I do believe that God cares about our emotions whether they are well-founded or not. And I believe God walks beside us whether our team wins or loses the game, whether our minds win or lose their struggle with sanity, whether our country wins or loses a war, whether our earth wins or loses its fight to sustain life. And I guess I have to believe that . . . because Tennessee lost.

Compassion

I have a child in my community who is just so precious. She's 4 with an attitude and on many occasions I've sworn she's one of my own -- even looks like one of my kids. Her great-grandmother is raising her (she's in her late 60s, it's been a full life) as her mother is addicted to drugs and her father sexually abused her. However, the great-grandmother doesn't have custody of her because the little girl, thinking it would be a fun experiment, lied to the judge. I know she lied because she came out and announced at would have been the final custody hearing, "Grandma, I lied and everyone believed me!" She was so proud of herself, but now grandma continues to seek custody. The thing is, mother is coming back for her in the next few weeks and there's nothing grandma can do about it. The little girl has been sick for awhile and today went to the doctor. They believe she has syphillis which can be gotten only through sex or in the mother's birth canal. I love this little girl and her grandmother and I have so much compassion on her for the life she has already led. As you can guess, believing in a loving God is awfully hard for this 4 year old but she's trying. She wants to believe. But she's asking questions most of us don't even attempt to ask until we're in our teens or 20s -- questions like: where is God when bad things happen? and believing that there is no God because she has suffered so many atrocities. To her and her grandmother all I can reply is that God is holding them and loving them and crying great big tears for them. Because I ask the same questions in the face of such sadness. But believing that I am God's hands and feet, I also extend God's love to this little one and pray for her mother and father, that this sickness can end. And I cry for her too. That is, after all, what compassion is -- with passion.

Autumnal Ugliness

I love the fall, don't get me wrong, but here in Arbuckle Creek, FL it amounts to some breezes to offset the intense August heat that remains. I welcome the breezes, but I do NOT (yes, I realize I screamed "not") welcome plastic orange and yellow leaves used in decorating lawns. I drove by a house yesterday to see a mailbox covered in those ugly things. Sure they brighten up the block, but have they realized that they are living in FL, the home of the "green" autumn? Can't they see that plastic leaves are truly a mixed metaphor in this setting? I was fine with the scarecrow in their front yard. After all we do have hay around here and even some crow-like birds. Pumpkins also are fine. But please, excuse me if I avert my eyes when coming face to face with false-y leaves. I am so embarrassed!

In my "spare" time

I know, I know, pastors just don't have spare time. And when the pastor also homeschools her kids, "spare" time is even harder to come by. But here's the thing . . . I feel very strong about taking care of myself and one way I do that is through my hobbie, bow making. It's quick and easy and fun and I have something to show for my time within minutes (unlike sermons which take a bit more preparation). I get instant gratification, so to speak, when I can twist a bow that I KNOW will make a little girl happy. This year is my second year of being asked to make the cheerleading competition bows for my girls' gym. I've been asked to make 150 of these babies and I just finished my first one. I'm really proud of it because it's a new technique and I think it looks AWESOME.
These buggers are BIG! The greatest thing going in cheerleading competitions are Texas-sized bows and that's what I'm making. The crazy thing is that these guys retail for $20 each. You do the math for 150 of these. It's NOT cheap! Which is why it's so fun for me to do. Sure, I have regular pastor things to do like visiting, attending meetings (a bunch this week including one out of town), guiding leaders, Bible study, preparing and presenting each Sunday's service, and then I have the typical homeschool crazy schedule which includes 4 hours/day teaching my kids, but when it's finally "me" time, this is what I enjoy. (I also weave headbands now and that's really fun too!) I may have a lot more "me" time this week if I don't get well. That swollen gland beneath my jaw is really tender today and I also have a bit of a sore throat and a low grade fever. I'd appreciate your prayers.

This is the news from Arbuckle Creek where the pastor withholds hugs when she doesn't feel well, the hospitals don't call to tell you when a parishioner is in the hospital (that's HIPPA for you!) and there's a gator trap in the canal behind the pastor's house (that happens when there's a big one lurking)

Dental Work

About 2 days ago I noticed my gums on one side of my lower jaw were swelling a bit. Typically I find that the waterpik takes care of getting out whatever food has slipped below the gums and everything settles down, but today, Saturday, I woke up with a swollen gland as well. Not good. I went to WebMD to self-diagnose and discovered it was most likely a dental abscess or the mumps. Being that I've been vaccinated against the mumps, I decided to call my dentist on a Saturday. Fortunately for me my dentist is my dad and is only an hour and a half away. Given the tooth that had started it all, he was pretty sure I would need a root canal and since I've never had one of those, I wasn't too excited about the prospects . . . especially on a Saturday. So the girls and I loaded up to go visit nana and grindaddy and they were psyched and I was . . . well, . . . not so psyched. So dad took me apart -- numbing my entire lower jaw (imagine what he did when I was a teenager giving him grief!!! just kidding . . . ) and taking x-rays which showed nothing. Then he decides to look in the filled cavity to see if perhaps something there would be able to be drained. After drilling half of my tooth to remove my very large filling, he discovers nothing new stumping him (and that's hard to do since he's been in practice over 30 years). He consults with another dentist in his building (also working on Saturday) and he too is stumped. So now I'm on antibiotics, hoping to rid my body of this crazy swelling. A part of me is wishing it might be mumps so I don't have to preach tomorrow, but that's a pretty lame request, isn't it? I really don't feel like suffering and all. The good part is that I got to spend some time with my family and we even got a day of homeschooling done at Nana's (they've had some time off since I've been away so we're playing catch up.) Here's hoping I heal quickly. DH insists I look like I have a goiter with this swollen gland (he's so romantic!)

Oh, and while I'm talking about my hometown, let me tell you that they've torn down all of their old schools and built humongous schools -- the elementary school looks like a fine hotel; the middle school looks like a junior college; and the high school looks like a full service college. It's unbelievable. It's also a bit uncomfortable for me. I am sure these are wonderful monuments of learning for the children in that county, but I can't help but think that two counties over, we do not have the money to establish such landmarks. And maybe that's OK. After all, we just converted the old Food Lion supermarket into the kindergarten learning center. We're "recycling" rather than "rebuilding" and there is something to be said for that too. FL is notorious for tearing down and building things that are bigger and better, but sometimes I wonder if bigger and newer IS necessarily better. Just something going on in my Arbuckle Creek-ish mind.

For this is the news from Arbuckle Creek, where the schools are still standing, the golf carts have headlights at night, and the women gossip excessively while watching their children in sports.

I'm Back! and Books

Well, I had the time of my life (sing along if you'd like!) San Francisco and its neighboring counties was a dream. It was so "me." Sustainability of the earth was a "given" in all that was around us. The health of humanity was also important. Respecting religious differences was apparent. And, yes, I was surrounded by friends. We stayed at a retreat center near Occidental, CA that, when serving children, offered whole wheat hot dog buns (we here in Arbuckle Creek assume that children only enjoy white flour.) We had fresh garden salads and vegetables everyday, and although Arbuckle Creek is a strong agricultural locale, I've never tasted anything as fresh and flavorful as these vegetables. Nothing was "fried" in the traditional southern sense that sometimes makes its way into the FL non-south. "Fried" meant simply "crusted" and baked. Everything was organic, even the coffee (fair trade as well) and the baked goods at the bakery we stopped at on the way to the airport. Everyone recycled without giving it a second thought. We worshiped Episcopal style on Sunday at St. Gregory of Nyssa with the Dancing Saints. It was a Christian church with hints of hinduism, judaism, and buddhism mixed in. Very interesting and extremely welcoming. In San Francisco I got to visit a farmer's market and a craft fair while also riding the BART and visiting City Lights bookstore. The Golden Gate bridge was beautiful as was the countryside. We even visited the Pacific and about froze to death Labor Day evening. Best of all, of course, were those amazing friends I had mentioned. Together we worshiped and shared communion in our special community. Together we shared the depths of our lives and together we emerged more refreshed than we had started our week together. Mostly, we played together and I can't tell you how important that was to me. It's been hard these last couple of days to settle back into Arbuckle Creek where no one has changed and where many of the wonders I experienced were in sharp contrast to my daily reality (which is probably also why I appreciated them so much). But my family is here and I did miss them (and they me) so I guess it's also a good thing to come home.

On to other topics. While on the plane (and in airports -- my first plane had been cancelled so I literally spent ALL day in/around planes) I had the privilege to read Angry Housewives Eating Bon Bons . It too told the stories of friends through lifes' many changes and I couldn't help but resonate as I was headed off to visit my friends. It's difficult to make true friends as adults and I honestly believe that these people are blessings from God. The book spoke to the wonder of friendships while also addressing many levels of trust and personal growth. My friends and I are kind of "growing up" together as we embrace our vocational calling. Together we reflected on Parker Palmer's book Let Your Life Speak and all of us resonated at some level with the difficulty of discovering who we were called to be. Vocation is difficult at all stages in life and in all working realms of life. Not all of us are practicing pastors right now, yet all of us touched on the desire to be called to something that was purely "ours." On the way home I finished up the 3rd book in Angie Sage's children's series called Physik and enjoyed every minute of it. I LOVE books.


So this is the news from Arbuckle Creek where the library is way too small, "recycling" means giving things to the church flea market and the cost of fuel is not a penny less than San Francisco, CA.