Moving Day

Got home from camp on Saturday. It was a great week, and I have no words for what a gift it was, to spend time with all those good folks. A couple of them are moving away as well-- so Godspeed and good wishes also to some dear and godly friends: Brian, Tamisyn and the clan as they head to Mississippi, and to Jason as he starts a new adventure in West Virginia.

More hard goodbyes on Sunday, as we celebrated Jesus and each other at St. A's on Sunday, with a potluck after church-- and then St. Paul's surprised us with a small going away party Monday night.

Then yesterday finally arrived; and it took a whole lot longer than we had planned. The moving truck got stuck trying to back into our driveway, and it took a few hours to extricate it before the guys could start loading our stuff onto it.

But at last all was loaded. The house is now very empty, and the truck is very full, and we are on the road. With the late start, and some extra time spent at my sister's house, we only drove for a couple of hours before we collapsed.

And now, it's time to start again. Goodbye, Indiana - and Westward, ho!

Camp

It's now 9 days before we move. The house is close to being packed up, but it's not done yet; there are a few more closets and piles to stuff into boxes. If I were smart, you'd think that'd be my sole agenda this week.

I'm not that smart.

This week is also our diocesan youth camp. This is a program, a ministry, which captured my heart decades ago. I got involved as a counselor when I was 15 (yes, I said counselor, not CIT. This was back when all the counselors were teens, and the only legal adults on staff were the director and the nurse!). I've been connected with it in one form or another ever since.

As I head out the door, knowing I'm coming back to a last minute packing marathon, the question is obvious: What the #@$%^ was I thinking, agreeing to be camp chaplain this week? Why am I doing this?

I guess it's because I believe.

I believe in the possibilities. I believe in the kids and the counselors and the staff. I believe in the way God meets people over sunrise swims and campfires and mosquito bites and mediocre mess hall food. I believe in the faithful music I hear in laughter and tears and whispered midnight conversations. I believe in the unreasonable, radical acceptance in Jesus' name that allows kids to be wholly themselves, in ways that happen nowhere else for some of them.

See you in a week.

Quiz logic

Your IQ Is 140

Your Logical Intelligence is Below Average Your Verbal Intelligence is Genius Your Mathematical Intelligence is Genius Your General Knowledge is Genius

A Quick and Dirty IQ Test

When I got the above result, I giggled-- and figured to show it to my family, next time they thought Mom was clueless. However, the contrast in evaluations made no sense to me. Quite honestly, I was irked. After all, I am (or was, once upon a time) an engineer by training; logic is what we do.

The quiz did not reveal the "right" answers at the end, so I messed around with it some, trying to figure it out. I found that every time I changed one of my answers, the overall score-- and rating in some other category-- dropped. Therefore, it would logically seem that the answers I had originally submitted were correct. However, the logic evaluation never changed: regardless of what answers I put in, it could not be improved.

So (at the risk of ruining my new, verbal genius image), I thought... what's that about??

And then it occurred to me: of course that is the evaluation-- and rightly so. Because it is inherently illogical to waste all this time on silly online IQ quizzes.

Monday morning prayers

Tomorrow begins the Episcopal Church's General Convention. I am told the Presbyterian Church (USA) is convening their national meeting this week as well. I know more about the ECUSA, of course, seeing as how I am a member of that part of the Body; but I am given to undserstand that our Presbyterian brothers and sisters may also be facing the prospect of a House Divided over issues similar to those on our agenda in the coming days.

It seems to me that, regardless of which side of which conflict (and there are several!) we are on, we can't accomplish anything-- indeed, we are flatly refusing to live the lives of discipleship to which we as Christians are all called-- if we are unwilling to pray together, for ourselves and for (rather than against!) one another. That's where we have to begin. This is as good a place to start as any.

A Prayer for God’s Wisdom in A Time of Disagreement*

Gracious God, who formed us all in your image,
male and female, liberal and conservative,
and who sent the Son to reconcile all of humanity through the power of the cross;

As your children gather in coming days to listen to each other and to you,
may your Spirit lead them toward the truth of the gospel,
towards justice, righteousness and peace.

Help each of them to lay aside whatever animosity or bitterness or stereotypes that they have brought with them, so that they can see both the issues which divide them and each other with new eyes.

Grant each of them an extra measure of patience and grace to sit with and welcome as brother and sister those with whom they disagree.

May what is accomplished this week be a sign, despite the differences, that your children love one another even as Jesus taught them, so that your church may be one.

In the name of Jesus Christ who gave his life for the world. Amen.

*Courtesy of the Rev. Timothy F. Simpson, moderator for the Christian Alliance for Progress.

New Kid on the Block

Does she look comfortable? well rested? At home, even?

She turned up yesterday afternoon. No tag, no collar, no ID, and following The Boy around the yard like a furry little shadow.

No, we can't keep her. We already have one pet to move-- the ferret-- along with a sizeable cage, and a bin full of accoutrements.

The Boy canvassed the neighbors, and no one claimed her.

We are moving thirteen hundred miles in less than three weeks. If we want to get a cat, I'm sure they have plenty of them in Montana.

She curled up in The Boy's lap and purred.

We will be driving for two days in the car, minimum. With way too much other stuff as it is. We do not need to add a cat and related belongings to the already overfull vehicle.

We took her to the vet-- no microchip ID. No way to identify previous owners at all.

Remember our old kitty? She loathed being in The Box. Cried herself hoarse when we moved here, and that was only an hour and a half on the road. Why would we want to put this cat-- and us-- through that torture for two days?

She walked into the open carrier and fell asleep.

So it looks as though we are driving to Montana-- thirteen hundred miles, one way-- with two adults, one child, and two furballs.

I am such a sucker.

Her name is Phoebe (see Romans 16).

Come, Holy Spirit!

Today is a new beginning in ministry for a lot of grand people.

In the Diocese of Chicago, the bishop will be laying hands on 9 people, several of whom are former classmates and friends. Mark, Laura, Debra, Robert and Micah (my favorite librarian and chapel preacher!) will be ordained to the transitional diaconate this morning.

Meanwhile, over on the Left Coast, Karen will be taking her vows as a transitional deacon in the Diocese of California.

Best wishes, my brothers and sisters, as you take this step in your journey of discipleship. How very fortunate is the Church to have such servant leadership raised up in its midst!