Enough is enough.

Visitation at the funeral home on Thursday.
Funeral on Friday.
Internment Saturday.

Then, Chaplain On Call Saturday evening, and yes, I get paged. Unexpected death during surgery.

While I'm on the way to the hospital, I get paged again. Code brought in through the ER, this time. I explain that there was a prior call, and that I will be delayed.

While I'm praying with Grieving Family #1, the overhead page sounds off. The patient in the ER has expired.

Move as gracefully as I can from Grieving Family #1 (waiting for out of town relatives) to Grieving Family #2.

While in the ER, the overhead echoes again. A new one, this time-- a Code up in Oncology.

Finish with Grieving Family #2. Stop up to check on Grieving Family #1, whose relatives have arrived and who are now ready to fill out necessary paperwork and go home.

Oncology patient has been stabilized, and is moved to ICU. I meet the family there, who want nothing to do with me (the chaplain being the spectre of death, you know). At this point, I am not entirely regretful. I notify the nurses where to find the family, once the patient is settled in her room. They will be asked to consider a DNR order.

I trot off to finish the Pastoral Care paperwork. Go home. Try to sleep.

I am holding fast to the Sunday promise of resurrection, because I've had just about all the death I can stomach for now.

The Good, the bad, and the ugly.

That's a fair description of the last couple days, friends. I don't know how to blog the doings here in one tidy bundle, like I usually do, so you're going to find two distinctive postings below. If it seems schizophrenic to you, sorry ... and welcome to my world.

Hello...

As it turns out, and after all this time, it didn't take St. Hither very long to make their final deliberations. On Monday we received a call-- make that A Call - inviting us to take up ministry with the good people there.

We said yes.

So come this summer, I will be priest-in-charge for the congregations of Yellowstone Episcopal Ministries-- a regional ministry of churches just outside Billings, Montana. Four small mission churches, each with different gifts and challenges, working together for the Gospel. Yes, there is an assisting priest, thank God-- and one who seems both focused and flexible. We're going to get along well, I think.

We're moving to Montana!!

... and Goodbye.

When my mother died so suddenly, nearly eight years ago, my father was (as you might imagine) left adrift. After all, they had been together since high school, and married for over 38 years. However, over and above his devotion to Mom, and the ache he felt with losing her, he is not the sort of person to be happy all by himself. So we were not surprised when he started occasionally going out with one "ladyfriend" or another.

A longtime friend of his died that same summer. Dad and Dick had worked at the mill together for nearly 30 years, and the four of them (Mom & Dad, Dick and Pat) had been friends for almost that long. Dinners out, and hunting trips, and various events with the Jacksons had punctuated our lives for as long as any of us kids could remember. So it seemed very natural when the two of them who remained started spending time together, each enjoying the company of an old friend who understood.

A couple years later, the two old friends got married. And we were thrilled for them. Pat was a cheerful, kind, sensitive woman, and a joy to be around.

This week, Pat lost a battle with cancer. She died on Monday, peacefully, in her sleep. We are grateful for her life, and for the gifts that she so generously shared with my father, and with everyone who knew her.

I know it's Lent, and the "A word" is normally not part of our vocabulary at this time of penitential introspection; but hers was a faithful life, well-lived, and so all I can think of is this line from our burial rites:

Even as we go to the grave, we make our song, Alleluia, alleluia, alleluia.

Why stay?

Recently, Christianity Today published an editorial suggesting that some denominational splits -- schisms, if you will -- are justified. The writer held up the current controversy in the Episcopal Church as an example.

My bishop has written a response. It's worth reading. We do not see eye to eye on everything, he and I; my theological views tend to be more moderate than his. In this case, however, I am in wholehearted agreement. I do not believe the importance of working together through division and brokenness can be overstated.

Home again-- again

We got back early last evening, and collapsed. We spent whirlwind days out in St. Hitherland-- visiting churches, chatting with their bishop, interviewing and being interviewed. The towns involved are small and hardworking; our worship together was solid, a relaxed and yet holy time. It would be a challenging ministry-- there's a lot of possibility there, and a lot of hope; but also a fair number of "issues" to be addressed, some of them significant. Our last conversation, on Friday evening, contained some unexpected notes, perhaps. I was straightforward in telling them that, if they called me to do the sort of faithful work together they said they wanted to do, some changes would need to happen. The idea of change can be scary, of course; but no one ran screaming from the room. Whether they are really willing to try moving in a direction of more intentional discipleship remains to be seen.

In any case, I spoke "as the Lord gave me utterance," and as gently as I could and still be honest with them. The next decision is now in their hands, and in God's.

Catching up, and heading out again!

Okay, deep breath.

I have finally caught up with all the blogging I didn't take time to do while we were on vacation (Hey, can you blame me? Face it, sometimes corporeal reality takes precedence!). I've backdated them a bit, so as to correspond (more or less) with the days we were doing or seeing what's in the post.

We got back about midday last Saturday (Good news: the planes were all on schedule. Even if it meant we stayed in the cheap seats for 11 hours, that was fine with me) and spent the rest of the day napping and doing laundry and generally reaclimating.

This week we were all a little groggy for the first couple days, but otherwise we were home-- all the homework has been caught up, and we're back into the regular routine of school and church, friends and errands. Well, almost...

The day before we came back, I got an email from the head of the search committee at St. Hither. It seems that my background passed the necessary scrutiny, and we (this includes my resident clergy spouse) have been asked out for a formal visit and interview. Interviews, rather-- I will be chatting with (at the very least) the bishop, the cluster board, the current local priest, and goodness knows how many others.

As it turns out, between my work schedule and Bruce's, and fitting into the bishop's very demanding calendar, the best time for all of us is this week.

Ack!

With a little scurrying around to make arrangements (now you know where I've been all this time!), the trip has come together. We're going tomorrow! In addition to the interviews, we will get to visit the churches there, look around the towns a bit, and generally absorb fodder for discernment over whether we are called to come together as priest and parish. We'll also get to spend a little time visiting with the Rev. Ref. and his family. They live a few hours away from where we'll be, but we can't get that close and not make it over!

We leave in the morning at o-dark-hundred, and we'll get back in a few days. Please pray for us, that God's will in all of this will be made very clear, to us as well as to the good people of St. Hither's. It feels a bit chancy to ask for the Holy 2x4-- I've found God tends to take such requests seriously-- but this time it's a risk I'm willing to take.