So, This is Where I Am

I've been miserable sick for most of the last month. I had a few days to start a huge pile of projects at the Red Cross and then drop them, because I was too sick to roll over. And while I was gone, my team there did all sorts of things without me, and it is the very best feeling. (It's weird, because I am just noticing this, but it's the very thing that happened at St. David's and the very thing that Sara couldn't understand.) Maybe I am weird, but the best feeling is the knowing that I am replaceable - knowing that life was happening before I stumbled along, and will go along after I'm gone, but if in my passing, that life became brighter, smoother, more compassionate and maybe even a little more understood. Well, then I have done what I was sent to do.

While I was sick, I went off my meds. It was unintentional, although I had always planned to do so this January. One year was enough, especially since I have been feeling dissatisfied and looking around for myself lately. It has been interesting - the light headed dizziness aside - to find my tears again. I just feel more even though I hadn't really noticed. I suppose if I fall into depression again, I will be ok if I have to take the medication my whole life, but it is good to know the difference if that is the case.

I supposed the best way to describe it is being present. I'm really good, and have put a lot of work into being good, at being present to whomever and whatever is in front of me. Not trying to change it, just paying attention to what is really there, and being really honest about what I think and feel in the moment. It is what makes it possible for me to have such tiny profound experiences. And those experiences are what make me feel alive - how I know I'm doing that thing I am supposed to be doing in this life.

So, I have a few things to finish up, things I started while I was having my breakdown, and that I owe at least a little bit of cleaning up my own mess. But things that were good to keep me busy even if they are not things that make me alive. Yes, the PTSA and the Red Cross have been good to me, but they have not fed me. They have not kept me whole, they have only kept me from spinning out of control. And I know, with absolute certainty that those things are not my calling. Still, I will give them a couple of months to clean up.

I went through all my books from seminary. I picked out all the books that pulled at my heart, and filled two bags (about a third of the total) of books that didn't move me. This is the second purge, the first was the congregational development stuff, which was perhaps a knee jerk reaction, but this time, it was a lot of old dead white theologians. I kept the things that teach, theology that is a bit quirky, my strange collection of books by and about other denominations, my Benedictine Rules, and collections of prayers. And from there, I am thinking about what I am going to do next.

That strange collection of things tells me that I am going to be a chaplain. So, I am going to do my CPE (clinical pastoral education); that thing that I couldn't/wouldn't make time for during seminary. I'm going to see about doing the year long residency, but I might have to do the summer internship first. I'll just have to see.

What I am looking for in my corporate spiritual life

I've been thinking about what I actually want out of a corporate spiritual life. Besides not beeing taken for the priest or at least a priest everywhere I go. (Don't think the Catholics don't have this in their favor.)

I've a deep call to preaching. And pastoring. And I have a horrible sneaking suspicion that this makes me a writer - although I've killed all my writing skills with the preaching, because talking and writing actually should look different. My writing is a mess and it will take a very long time to get it back after the last several years, but that may be what I need to do.

Here is the thing about the Eucharist - I am deeply called to liturgical worship, and I love the coming together on Sunday morning, but my ministry was never to be a Eucharistic Minister. I care that it is done right, well, meaningfully, but the forgiveness of sins part has always been more important to me than the offering of sacrifice. We love the ritual, I think because it satisfys that very part of us that Jesus said we didn't really need to be satisfying. I don't know. Actual meals are more important to me. Actually eating together, whether you give the meal the ritual flare or not, actually talking about what Scripture says and how to turn that into livable action, today, in my affluent life, is what matters more.

I suppose I never did actually fit into what a typical Episcopalian is trying to become. I just don't have the patience to be a "social justice fill-in-the-blank." I care about the metanoia, the changed heart. You can, in your affluent life, do all sorts of good things without ever changing. Yesterday, I had the opportunity to sponsor a child in Vietnam for 28 dollars a month. I can sponsor a dozen children on just the cost of my own childrens music and swimming lessons. If I had a coffee habit, I could sponsor three. It's easy to give up nothing tangible and feel good.

But I am interested in how my heart turns towards people. How do we turn our hearts towards people, not just throw our spare change at them. When our hearts turn, then we start to have compassion for the system that we all struggle in, the affluent and the poor, and we can start to find ways to change that system.

Anyway, I am wondering where I am going to find my next group of study partners for my spiritual life. Jonathan suggests I start my own cult, but where to find the people?

I don't miss the Eucharist, but I miss the rhythm, and I miss the Wednesdays nights something fierce. I don't know if I need to search for that again, and figure out how to recreate it, or if I need to treat it like much of the rest of my life in Portland, as something to grieve if necessary, but to recognize as a particular time in my life and then move forward.

I've been seeing a lot of internet billboards to the effect that as long as I am looking backwards, I won't be able to see where I am going, or better yet, aim for a desired direction.