Retreat

It was a pretty gray few days...

I ended up coming home eighteen hours early. I felt surrounded by blankness. Maybe that could be a powerful spiritual experience, but I got kind of bored. I mean, it was beautiful in some ways -- I got some good pictures (borrowing Adam's fancy schmancy Canon EOS 300D). But I was restless and all the white skies, mist, colorless landscape, long nights, and empty hours got tough.

It's funny, because I love sitting around reading, thinking, writing, knitting, and taking walks. I have no trouble sitting still. But this time, I think my eagerness to begin a new thing didn't mix well with solitude and lack of sensory stimulation.

Here's the cabin where I stayed, through some trees. Again, note the colorlessness:


On this one, Adam helped me sauce up the color a bit. I do love big empty, grassy fields. This is why I can never leave the Midwest. I'm addicted to open, flat spaces and anything that looks like prairie.

And now, after some time in Iowa meeting Adam's family (which was great fun -- plus, it snowed three inches out there, so it was gorgeous), I've been reconnecting with my apartment, doing some prayer and reflection at home, and otherwise preparing myself for my first day of work, back in the realm of parish ministry.

Red light, green light

My new home is part of a large apartment complex, which has its own stoplight from our "street" onto the main road. It's a busy road, so we have a long red light. Every time I try to drive away from home, I have to wait 1-2 minutes before I can actually leave, waiting for the light to change. At first it was annoying, but then I thought to myself: there's nothing I can do about it, so I might as well just get used to it. And now (mostly) it feels like a moment to meditate, pray, or just sit still for a little while. Every time I leave home!

I'm leaving tomorrow to go on retreat at a place in the middle of northwestern Illinois woods and farmland. So, another kind of stoplight. It'll be grey, rainy, and cold -- and the last day of hunting season, so I won't be able to go walking the first 24 hours or so. But I'll be grateful to take a few days just to sit still, read the Bible, pray about St. Benedict's and my ministry, and begin to bring this transition time to a close. (Trader Joe's seems pretty far away now.)

When I first tried my hand at parish ministry, I was twenty-four years old. There was a lot I loved about it, but I got caught in a lot of knots, too. I'm eager to jump in again, after seven years of studying, at: a law firm, three Episcopal parishes, one retirement center, one campus ministry, five diocesan conventions, and two theological schools.

I'm ready to get started again. 

New Home

I shot these without flash, so I realize they're a little blurry. That's the cost of authenticity, right?

There are still lots of boxes to be unpacked, mostly books at this point. I actually don't have enough furniture to fill up the place, which is FINE with me... I like a little empty space.

But the views are lovely. I'll get some more shots of those soon.

I love the apartment... but I keep saying to myself, "Gee, I live in Bolingbrook." There's a lot of New to get used to. New apartment, new town, new job, new neighbors, Whole New Life. It's a little overwhelming sometimes.

You'll be interested to know that not only is there a Pakistani/Indian grocery across the way, but there's a (Mexican?) bakery and eatery down the street that Adam and I have sworn devotion to -- Panaderia Coral. Their concha sweetrolls are amazing. This is not your 1950s suburb, here. Not even your 1990s suburb.

Some things I'll miss

Living in a place that feels so medieval (well, except for the cinder blocks in my apartment...).

The fireplace

The BookShelf.

Our super-duper retro clock (note the cautionary sign on top: "Electronically controlled time," ostensibly to warn that it may not be as reliable as say, your hand-wound pocket watch, back in the day.

The cloister.

I'll even miss Seabury's water damage.

I won't miss Trader Joe's. (My locker, there -- I quit three weeks ago.)

Ah, how medieval.

Sitting in the chapel stalls.

Our El stop -- Noyes.

The Central Street beach (that's my backpack).

And of course, the scary cupboard. (And what's inside.)

Ah... don't you just feel like you're in a fairy tale castle?

Lilith and I will miss the purple couch.

And the people:

We're so medieval. We just can't keep up with the 21st century. Crazy Christians.

Just like living in a castle... knights in armor and all.
Well, almost.

Packing

This the view from my windows at Seabury.

It's hard to know how to leave a place. Should I have had a big party? How do I say goodbye to everyone? I think I'm realizing I just can't -- there are too many people, too many feelings, and no way to acknowledge them all well. People leave, it's part of life, and I'm just too overwhelmed with all the logistical stuff I need to do to even know how to begin to approach it.

Guilt

One of my Seabury neighbors told me my "Generosity" post got him thinking... and feeling GUILTY!!! We laughed. But I got to thinking: guilt isn't from God (that's right, my Lutheran and Roman Catholic brothers and sisters...).

I think guilt might be from the devil, if you believe in that sort of thing.

Guilt makes us feel like we're "bad" people, that we've messed up, that we don't deserve love. I think God wants us to know that we have power, that we're loved, and that even though we've messed up something, we can start over, again and again.

We have power!!! Let's use it. To free up our own lives so we can feel God's love for us, and to to help other people have better lives and realize that God loves them, too. Guilt just mires us in uckiness.

(Hopefully I haven't made anyone feel guilty for feeling guilty, here.)

10 Random Things About Me

I haven't been tagged for a meme in a long time. (I don't even really know what "meme" means or how's it's pronounced -- meem?) I did a similar one to this last April: 6 weird things about me. But heck, there's plenty of weird, random stuff in my life to go around!

1. I used to be able to milk 42 goats in three hours (with an electronic milker!). This was a part-time job while I was the part-time pastor of the Monterey United Church of Christ in western Mass. Rawson Brook Farm still makes the best chevre I've ever had.

2. I don't like sweets very much. I'd rather eat lemon pepper fries, olives, or goat cheese than cookies, cake, or candy bars. I like a little fruit pie, maybe a brownie or tiramisu, sometimes.

3. I'm not very good at finishing books, especially nonfiction. I have like ten books I'm reading all over my apartment, mostly congregational development and new pastor sorts of books recently. I like stories better than information -- but I'm also picky about the kind of novels I read.

4. I should be packing right now, but instead I'm procrastinating with this stupid list. At least I've packed six boxes of books. And I have like fifty collapsed boxes outside my front door that various people have given me (see photo). Including one from my parents that says "Jon's clothes and diapers" from their last move, in 1982. Jon is now twenty-eight.

5. When I was in high school, I saved my babysitting money to buy art at the Hyde Park Art Fair two summers in a row. "Nerd Alert!" as my brother's girlfriend would say. I still have two pieces I bought.

6. I'd rather drink water at room temperature than cold or with ice in it.

7. My favorite season is winter, because everything is so quiet and still. And I like wearing sweaters and hats. Cozy.

8. I don't have an iPod. I can't decide if I would use it if I did -- I'm stuck in the 90s with my CDs.

9. I can't stay awake much past 10pm ... I just start to fall asleep. But I can wake up at 6am no problem. Although waking up when's it dark outside these days is hard.

10. I think Swiss Chard is pretty good.

Generosity

I've been thinking about generosity lately.

I don't have a lot of money right now. I haven't had much money for the past four+ years, while I've been a student. Now, I've stopped working, for my move and transition, and so I need to be even more careful. Probably many of you are in a similar position: we watch what we spend, we are afraid that there won't be enough, we worry about the future, we hold on to what we have.

"And can any of you by worrying add a single hour to your span of life?"

That's how my parents raised me: "we might not have enough!" One year, they gave each other new tires for Christmas. And sure, maybe there's nothing wrong with that. But what happens to the level of fear in our lives when we always worry we might "run out," of money or time or whatever? WE of all people, in the richest country in the world, with all our appliances, articles of clothing, choices of foods, and yes, we even have decent homeless shelters.

In this time where I feel especially pinched, I've been trying not to be anxious. I've been trying to believe that I have enough. Maybe even that I have more than enough. Even though I still only own one collar shirt. (Crazy, I know.)

"Is not life more than food, and the body more than clothing?"

As I anticipate having a salary again, I've been thinking more about generosity. I've been thinking about how to give away what I have -- money, talents, love, kindness, joy -- and not be scared about it. I've been thinking about tithing. I've been thinking about believing that there is enough for me to enjoy my life and for me to give away a chunk to help other people enjoy theirs, or even just survive.

But it's hard, because this belief that "There isn't enough" is so deep inside my head.

"Ask, and it will be given to you; search, and you will find; knock, and the door will be opened for you."

I'll let you know how it goes this year...

Anyone else tried tithing?

How to choose a professional portrait

Hmm... there's something so honest about this shot. The trials and confusions of the ministry are so evident in my face... but somehow I thought it wouldn't be quite the right one to use professionally. Although here I am, posting it on my blog for all the world to see.

So my boyfriend (that word always makes me feel like I'm in high school... oh well), Adam, is a great photographer and he's taken some good professional photos of me, but this actually isn't one of them. It was taken by a wonderful man at the parish where I've been deaconing; he was taking portraits of the whole parish for a photo directory. So, we were trying different poses until he finally said, "Just make a series of different expressions every three seconds, and I'll just keep shooting!" I was sort of paralyzed... expressions? What KIND of expressions??? I didn't know what to do, and this was one of the faces that came out.

But it's my favorite, obviously. Although this is the only place you're going to see it.

Bishop candidates

My week has been taken over by bishop candidates. A laywoman and I are taking turns "shepherding" Robert Koomson, or helping him navigate all the small group rooms and ins and outs of the "presentations" this week. These are forums at churches ALL over Chicago and northern Illinois that gives our eight (8!) candidates a chance to share their vision and answer lots of questions. Although I'm sure there is some element of a popularity contest here - who's wearing the sharpest outfit? who has the nicest haircut? who feels like my friend? who tells the funniest jokes? who is the priest I wish I could be or who I wish could be my parish priest? who makes the statement I want to make about our diocese and the church?

The question we should be asking is, of course: Who would be the best bishop for Chicago right now? Regardless of all those other factors, some of which actually are worth considering along the way, that is the question the Spirit wants to help us discern right now. Although I'm certainly not above getting lost in all those seventh-grade class-president type questions. I've been noticing haircuts and thinking about political statements more than I care to admit.

But how can we KNOW who would be the best bishop for Chicago? Well, we can read the diocesan profile. I was on the subcommittee that developed and wrote this evaluation of our diocese, its needs, its history, and its possibilities. I confess: it's kind of long (sorry about that!). But we tried to be honest and thorough.

In my own discernment, I'm thinking about how many churches we've closed in the past ten years, about the need for spreading the word about Jesus, getting publicity as the Episcopal Church, doing anti-racism work in our city, and spreading God's love as far around our churches as we can.

But I also like what the search committee offers on discernment (from the website):
"Prayerfully consider the ways in which each nominee might be called to be the bishop of Chicago." It's a good discipline to think about how EACH person might be called to be our bishop, even the candidates I'm not so sure about.

So, on Tuesday I drove across the city to Glen Ellyn. Tonight I'm driving across the city again to Palos Park. I'm crashing at my parents' house, and getting up early to cross the neighborhood to 63rd Street in Chicago. Then I'm deaconing at a friends' wedding! THEN I need to finish my sermon because I'm preaching Sunday morning. (My last Sunday at St. John's, where I've been serving as a deacon during my search process.) Then, after preaching at two services, I'm driving across the STATE to Dixon. Then I'm driving Robert home to Evanston. Then I am going to eat a mint-chocolate Haagan Dazs ice cream bar and fall asleep reading Kennon Callahan and/or Jane Austen.

Welcome

(Well, I think they like me.)

And welcome to all my new parishioners who may be reading my blog, now! More on "Heidi becoming a vicar" soon...

Foxes have holes, birds of the air have nests...

Here's the layout of my new apartment. I'm going to be paying too much for it, really. But I fell for the view of the forest preserve - out of the living and dining room windows, you see nothing but trees (and power lines, truthfully). It's right on a bike trail, even. So, I'm taking on a "luxury" apartment with a rent that *doesn't* include utilities, for a view of the forest preserve??? Is this really smart, Heidi?

But there's also an outdoor pool, washer/dryer, dishwasher, a balcony, and a kitchen that's BIG and open to the front room. (But alas, no fireplace, contrary to the floorplan). It's also close enough that I could bike to church if I wanted. I could probably even bike from the church to the local hospital, although it's still under construction.

So, I think I'm paying for an image, here. Bad bad bad. Very impractical. But I'm a sucker for metaphors - that's why I'm becoming a priest. Maybe paying for things that are beautiful can be worth it? I just hope I'm not going to be surprised by my heat bill! Then maybe the trees won't be quite so pretty.

Next problem: when am I going to move in? I have to balance all the things I need to bring to end here at Seabury - my freelance work, my packing, my goodbyes... and I need to say goodbye to two churches: St. John's, where I'm deaconing, and St. Paul and the Redeemer, that "done brung me up." And I really need to go back to Christ in the Wilderness (watch out for that cricket soundclip) and go sit in a hermitage for a while (see my last visit, in March), talk to God and the trees, and prepare myself.

I find myself obsessing about furniture quite a bit. I keep thinking about where I'm going to put things, how I'm going to fit everything in 884 sq. feet... This is actually bigger than my Seabury apartment but the new place has more windows and less wall space for things like bookcases, of which I have four:
I will probably keep a bunch of books in my office. But I also have this Norwegian cupboard/bookshelf, that was my grandmother's:
And I actually imagined that I might get a place big enough that I could finally have my childhood piano with me. Maybe next time.

Besides, small places are cozier, more energy-efficient, and keep you from buying furniture and other stuff that you probably don't need anyway. And a view of the forest preserve and the sky? Worth it. (I hope so, anyway!)

Whoops

Hmm. My parish doesn't know that I've been called to be their vicar yet. Whoops!

So, just in case, don't say too much quite yet. We're talking about the contract this week.

I can't believe I'm going to be moving. And becoming a pastor... it's been such a long time coming. Seven years since I started at the Monterey Church.

My internet has been down, so I haven't been able to blog much lately! More soon.

The Vicar of Bolingbrook

That's me!!! I HAVE A JOB!!!

I had a wonderful interview last night... spent about half an hour in the IKEA parking lot (I stopped there first, to pick up a lampshade), going over my sermon and the interview questions, and then it was just a comfortable evening with the search committee. I was exhausted by the end though - three and half hours is a long time to keep talking.

And they called me a couple of hours ago to offer me the call! And they want me to start "tomorrow"! But, of course, it will probably be more like a month or so.

Here it is: St. Benedict's. (I can't even believe it's called St. Benedict's. I LOVE Benedict and monasteries and...!)

Thanks for waiting through all these stressful months with me. I can't believe it. I'm both excited and so content and peaceful.

In the meanwhile, some lasagna, red wine, and a few more weeks at Trader Joe's.

Second interview

I have a second interview with Small Church in the Southwest Suburbs on Wednesday night. I'm pretty smitten with them. They're about 40 people on a Sunday, they just built a new building a few years ago with a circular sanctuary (their first church building was two geodesic domes!), and they have a lot of energy.

They've asked me to prepare an evening prayer service with a homily and a "freestyle" component where I can do a bible study, a presentation, or a workshop of some sort (I'm going to do my "How to Love Paul" workshop from two years ago), and they have twelve questions for me to prepare to discuss with them. Phew! I feel like I could write a 12 page paper on each of these questions... but I think I'm going to try three sentences as a start.

1. What restored your interest and confidence in returning to a pastoral setting?

2. Describe the general outline of how you would put together a community outreach program centered on parental training for the community. There is no right or wrong answer here; we are more interested in the process.

3. As vicar, how will you determine your priorities as you schedule your time?

4. What are your thoughts about moving to this area?

5. Give us an example of how you’ve approached teaching a new idea or skill to a group or to an individual.

6. What is your approach to liturgical planning?

7. In our first visit, you said that you had a great interest in communities and how groups of people work together and were curious as to why they come together. How do you plan to put that interest and curiosity into action as a parish priest?

8. Describe how you see your role as a liturgical leader.

9. How will you facilitate planning, doing, and reviewing in the culture of our church?

10. What kinds of pastoral care can a parishioner expect from you?
    

11. What spiritual practices are you eager to model and teach at (Small Church)?

12. We are eager to build our Christian education program for the children of (Small Church). What are your ideas for doing that while making worship relevant to children?

It's a long drive down that way, and I have to work at 6am the next day at Trader Joe's, but God is good and I'm sure I'll make it through. I just hope the digital projector hook-up to my laptop works - it seems like there's always some drama in getting those things to work.

Lilith in the Hall

My cat has been curious about my apartment's hallway and stairwell for months, and I've started letting her go out to explore now and then.

She meows and runs around - maybe looking for other cats? "I'm here, I'm harmless, please don't hurt me!" Then she lies down and rolls on her back... savoring her freedom? Although it's one of her favorite things to do inside the apartment, too.


It must seem like a whole other world to her. The Hallway. And who even knows what's Down the Stairs???

Trader Joe's

These are three of my Trader Joe's shirts! And my name tag.

I'm completely exhausted. The first two days, I was so tired I just dissolved into tears at the end of the day. This kind of physical work just brings all the other hard things in my life so much closer to the surface! It's a lot of lifting and standing, but then it's also getting to know a bunch of new people, a new place. a new set of rules, and of course, where the chili lime chicken burgers are.

I think I like it. Although each of these past four days there've been moments where I've thought suddenly to myself both, "I hate it here" and "you know, I really like it here."

I love working the register: I love chatting with people, I love scanning items through the machine, and I love bagging things. One woman says, "Bagging is like playing Tetris!"

But I sprained (I think) my hand my first day. There's this hard lump on the back of my hand, and when I grasp or grab things, it hurts like hell. The management and I are going to keep an eye on it, and if it doesn't clear up by the end of next week, I think I get some kind of worker's comp thing. I've been wearing a wrist guard, which helps me use my hand more carefully, although it's really more for your WRIST and it's the back of my hand - those fine bones and muscles - that are killing me.


I've now worked two 5am-1pm shifts, which are actually good for me. It's sort of spooky and mysterious to get up at 4am and drive to work by the light of the moon (there's a big star underneath the moon right now - Venus? - which looks like the Muslim moon and star symbol - is that because it's Ramadan right now? Does anyone know? Or am I just nuts?). We stock the shelves with the perishable items and wash the floors before customers arrive at 9am. Then I'm off at 1pm. Works for me.

More on TJ's later... there's a lot I could say.

10 Ways to Pass a Hot Potato

This is from an Episcopal GenX clergy listserv I'm on (you should join!), and since I'm looking at the very real possibility of working as a leader in a church (read: someone who gets all kind of mud and triangulation slung at them), I thought this was a great idea.

A friend of mine recently had a problem with #8, which I think is an especially helpful rule. She finally tore up that silly anonymous note while we were on the phone together, and I was SO proud of her!

The new, Gen X bishop of Olympia, Gregory Rickel sent these "10 Rules for Respect" out to the congregations of that diocese. They're great rules for any community, but especially churches and church organizations, since we tend to assume that everyone is going to be nice all the time, which just isn't possible. Especially to bishops. Or to Executive Presbyters, for that matter. Or to whoever the leader of your particular organization might be. People tend to pass anxiety around like a hot potato, in ways that often have nothing to do with where the real anxiety is coming from. Some of my favorite books on this:

The Anxious Organization, Jeffrey A. Miller
Generation to Generation, Edwin Friedman (or anything by Friedman)
and books by the famous Kennon Callahan, of which I should read more. ANYWAY...

Here's Bishop Greg:

"In every Letter of Agreement I have had with congregations, and now with the Diocese of Olympia I have asked that the "Rules for Respect" spelled out below be made part of the agreement. I first saw these in an article by Church of the Nazarene pastor Charles Christian. I think they are quite helpful in framing our communication and life together. I vow to do my best to follow them and invite you to do the same. We will all fail, but through gentle challenge and loving encouragement these can become a foundation for healthy communication for us all. Blessings to you! Greg"

10 Rules for Respect

1. If you have a problem with me, come to me (privately).

2. If I have a problem with you, I will come to you (privately).

3. If someone has a problem with me and comes to you, send them to me. (I'll do the same for you)

4. If someone consistently will not come to me, say, "Let's go to Greg together. I am sure he will see us about this." (I will do the same for you.)

5. Be careful how you interpret me-I'd rather do that. On matters that are unclear, do not feel pressured to interpret my feelings or thoughts. It is easy to misinterpret intentions.

6. I will be careful how I interpret you.

7. If it's confidential, don't tell. If you or anyone comes to me in confidence, I won't tell unless a) the person is going to harm himself/herself, b) the person is going to physically harm someone else, c) a child has been physically or sexually abused. I expect the same from you.

8. I do not read unsigned letters or notes.

9. I do not manipulate; I will not be manipulated; do not let others manipulate you. Do not let others manipulate me through you. I will not preach "at you." I will leave conviction to the Holy Spirit (she does it better anyway!)

10. When in doubt, just say it. The only dumb questions are those that don't get asked. Our relationships with one another, at the end of the day, are the most important things so if you have a concern, pray, and then (if led) speak up. If I can answer it without misrepresenting something, someone, or breaking a confidence, I will.

I'm not worried about the Anglican Communion

This is the best response to the recent House of Bishop's statement on gay bishops and same-sex blessings I've seen so far...

from the rector's husband at St. John's, Mt. Pleasant, Michigan

Behold, I am doing a new thing

I got the job at Trader Joe's! It was pretty easy - they're looking for chatty, sociable people to make for an upbeat shopping "adventure." I guess I qualify. I start Tuesday, with three hours of reading to learn about the history and philosophy of the chain. That's cool by me. I'm just so glad to have steady dependable work... which, if I stay 90 days, turns into PPO health insurance with dental!

The funny thing is, just on Tuesday I had a fantastic interview with a small church in the far southwest suburbs. I LOVED these people. They're looking to grow, they have a new building with a circular sanctuary, and they have a lot of energy. It's even a diverse area - I saw African American, Latino, and white students in nearly equal numbers pouring out of the elementary school down the street. It's all malls down there, but you know what, the suburbs aren't all that bad... I could see myself living there. We'll see.

The new keys

Since I've lost my big ring of keys - complete with grocery store "discount" tags, my beach pass, and a Wooster keychain - I've decided to decrease my future key-loss risk. Now, my house and school keys are on one ring (with the whistle, for some reason), my car key stands alone (with a cross to watch over me or something), and the laundry room key has joined my storeroom padlock key and my (nonfunctional) mailbox key on the ugly old blue plastic Seabury tag. I only had one bike lock key, and so now my (somewhat crappy) bike is stuck with its U-lock until I find a bolt cutter or just donate it somewhere and let someone else deal with the problem.

I like this new key system, though: my keys are so much lighter! They don't clunk into everything. I feel freer, and less like a jailer. Of course, this means if I decide I need to get into my car and I've left my car key upstairs, I have to walk up and get it. And it may also mean that I have more sets of keys to misplace. Hmm. Oh well, I'm going to enjoy the illusion of a problem solved for now

By the way, I went ahead and applied with Trader Joe's! I thought it might be best to leave the "Reverend" off the application. And I have an interview on Thursday morning, so we'll see how that goes. I'm a little unnerved about the idea of getting up in the morning for a 5am shift 20 minutes away... but I do always tell people that I'm a morning person.

The gate is narrow

My accreditation hours have been cut. I knew this was coming, but it's still sort of rough. I already felt like I was scraping by! So I have to scramble for more work.

My new plan is to apply for a job at Trader Joe's - my close friend's husband works there, and I'm just w a i t i n g for him to call me back. Steady work, health insurance, 10% discount - could it get much better? Maybe this will be a blessing in disguise. But I shouldn't count my chickens... even if they're free-range and 10% off.

I'm also talking to another professor about helping her with her research... only a couple hours a week, but every little bit helps. And I would get to learn a little about Julian of Norwich.

Geez, this is stressful, though. I know it will be fine, but my rent has gone up, I have no idea when I might get hired, and I really need a new keychain. (Life is hard.) Anyone got any keychains they've been meaning to get rid of? (Hopefully I won't get inundated, here.)

Ok, I'm going to go to Eucharist. Probably some part of it will make me cry, but you know what, that's what God is for, right?

Oh no, not the liturgy switch!!!

So, most of the time I've lived at Seabury I've thought this was a pretty funny sight (sorry it's so blurry!). Right next to our professor of liturgics' office is this SWITCH! With a RED LIGHT! When I first got here, I had no clue what it was for. Did Ruth's office used to be a darkroom? Did the switch activate some emergency liturgical process? What on earth...?

Then one day I had to get something out of the attic, right up the stairs from Ruth's office. And the Adminstrative Person with keys flipped this switch before we walked up there. It turns the lights on in the attic.

I must say, I was pretty disappointed. Still am.

He will come like a thief in the night

I still haven't found either the keys or the checkbook (with debit card). I've pretty much made peace with the likelihood that both are gone. No one turned the keys in to our receptionist yesterday, and I retraced our walk to the gelato place, asked in the stores along the way, and looked again around my friends' apartment and their backyard. I posted something on Craig's List, and I'm thinking about calling Northwestern's lost and found.

I have a new set of Seabury keys now. When Wolf, our maintenance guy, gave them to me, he was kind enough to remind me: "These cost $10 a piece!" Thanks.

I've also combed my apartment and car, looking for my checkbook. Nothing. So, I froze my checking account, which I'm going to have to wait until Saturday to "unfreeze," because I'm going to have to go to Hyde Park Bank and meet with the customer service officer in person. So, this week, I simply have no access to money! Sort of strange. See, I was out of cash on Sunday; all I have are my laundry quarters and $2.52 in change in my wallet. I have my credit card for emergencies and maybe for gas, but otherwise, I'm not going to spend any money until Saturday... that might be sort of interesting.

But this really WEIRD thing happened last night. I've been mildly paranoid about someone letting themselves into my apartment, because our keys have the apartment number stamped on them. So, last night, I slept with my laptop and cell phone in my bedroom; f0r some reason, I thought this was a good safety measure. Then I woke up at 3am after a bad dream: I was sleeping in a mini-trailer in the middle of downtown somewhere, when some mean little kid started looking in through the windows at me. He made his way around the trailer to its little door, and he opened it... and I tried to wake up, tried to yell, to make him go away - and I finally woke myself up.

And I noticed a light on in my hallway. I thought, "Oh, I must've left the living room light on. Oh well." And I fell back asleep, a little shaky.

I woke up this morning and on my way to the bathroom, I noticed the front door of my apartment was open. Just WIDE open. The lights in my living room weren't on, that was the light from the hallway outside! Eek. But nothing had been taken, at least so far as I can tell. And there were no signs of a mean little kid anywhere.

I do remember that I didn't lock the front door last night, so probably the wind had blown it open or something. It's happened before, during the day. But it's just a little freaky.

Maybe the Holy Spirit pushed the door open, just to prove to me that I was safe, even sleeping all night with my front door wide open. I hope so.

Lost Things

This morning in church, we read the lectionary story about the shepherd who leave his 99 sheep to go looking for the 1 lost sheep. And the woman who cleans out her whole house, looking for 1 lost coin.

Today, I realized I've lost both my checkbook, which has my ATM card tucked in it, and my house keys. Horrid. I regret to say that I have not left everything to search high and low for them. I realized the checkbook was gone on my way to get gelato with my neighbors Brad and Katie and their kids, and I guess spending time with them was more important than finding the checkbook and ATM card right at that moment. They're not in any of my purses or backpack, not on any tables, not in coat pockets, not in the car... And then I discovered my keys were gone, when I left their apartment, later tonight. Brad and I looked in the backyard with a flashlight, where I'd been waiting for them earlier, but there was nothing. ARGH. Our security point-person, Laurel, was home, and kindly walked home with me and let me in all the doors.

Ironically, I'd unlocked my car on the way over, to see if my checkbook was in there somewhere. So I know I used my keys then.

I'm just devastated - and worred. Bleh. I hate losing things, especially things I urgently NEED. I can't get into the accreditation office to start work in the morning without a key. I really hope my checkbook isn't floating out there and some random person is writing checks for pizza and a stereo system or something.

Maybe I should drop everything and look though the yard again. But then I couldn't get back inside my apartment without knocking on Laurel's door again. Maybe I should turn my house upside down looking for the checkbook. But I'm just so exhausted. Forgive me, Good Shepherd. I'm glad you're better at looking for lost people than I am for lost items.

Paper work

Ellen's father says, "If you want something done right, forget it." (She's the professor I'm working with on Seabury's accreditation process.) This pretty much sums up our accreditation work lately. What a morass. But it's coming together somehow.

Our world seems to exist mostly on paper, I've noticed. Or online. That's where we look to sort of prove that things exist, anyway.

I feel a little bit like I'm working at the law firm again, as I've mentioned before. I'm developing a friendship of circumstance with the copy machines. I have paper cuts. I have strong feelings about the kind of paper clips, binder clips, and file folders I want to use. I notice the aesthetics of reports, tables, headers and footers.

Maybe I'll post some photos of the copy machines.

Two more job possibilities

Hooray!

While I was downtown yesterday for "Fresh Start," a new clergy gathering and workshop, I found out about two more possible jobs. One is another assistant position and the other is a full-time solo position. Both are in the western suburbs.

Very exciting. I'm relieved to have more places to put my anticipatory energy than just St. X, (a neighbor of mine, who is also applying there, just received an email from the rector, who reported that they are still reviewing applications and listening for the Spirit). I probably should've worked harder to expand my search a few weeks ago, but better late than never.

I'm very intrigued by the possibility of working on my own again. Maybe this time for more than twelve people (although I really loved those twelve people). I just think there's something powerful in churches with less than 100 members, a "something" than can grow into something more. I've heard too many clergy disparage small churches, say they're "dying" and blame them for all their problems, rather than look for ways to help them become something more. Seems like a kind of "sizism" to me. Jesus didn't have a problem with his twelve people. As one priest pointed out at the new clergy day, Jesus berated the crowds that followed him rather than encourage them to fill out new member cards.

I could rant some more, but I will stop.

I hate, I despise your chapels?

Amos 5:21, "I hate, I despise your festivals, and I take no delight in your solemn assemblies."

So, a swath of chapel plaster fell off the wall over the weekend. We're now worshipping in Seabury Lounge - our common room, just in case more starts to fall down. Perhaps God was commenting on our liturgical sensibilities? On our Episcopal devotion to common worship? Hard to say.

The funny thing is that workers just finished tuckpointing and sealing the steeple, and it was AFTER that that a chunk of wall tumbled down. Right onto the pew where the evening or morning prayer officiant usually sits.

Sorry! It was dark in there, and my flash wasn't doing the trick, so these are kind of blurry. But we've definitely had some excitement with the start of the year with this infrastructure collapse!

Just call me tuna casserole, with potato chips

My friend Court yesterday said to me, "Heidi, you're not a leftover casserole, but if you were, you'd be tuna noodle, because it's the best." That was so nice! And LittleMary reminded me that sometimes leftovers taste the best, especially with cheese and tortilla chips. So, ok - maybe I just need to tell the story a little differently, here.

More than a few people here stopped me yesterday to tell me how glad they were to see me still around. They said they hoped I would find a job, but it was nice to have me here. No one said, "What are YOU still doing here???"

And you know, I still haven't heard from St. X. And maybe they'll call, and maybe they won't. Maybe they'll hire someone else. Or maybe another job will open up. Maybe not. But maybe I can make a ministry and a worthwhile year for myself with what's around me here. Honestly, I'd rather do that than force myself into a parish job, just for the sake of having one.

My friend Jim wondered if, deep down, I wasn't feeling drawn to parish ministry, period. That's an interesting question - I'm not sure. It may be a matter of finding the right parish. Or maybe he's right, and I've been looking at the wrong jobs for the last nine months. Sometimes I'm not good at sorting out what I OUGHT to do and what I WANT to do. But I'm not ready to say that I don't really want to do parish ministry, yet. There's still something about it that draws me - but I'm not sure what it is. Something to pray about.

The view from here?

The steeple has been under construction. They've been tuckpointing, so the whole thing doesn't come tumbling down. Bits of stone dust have been sprinkling down into the chapel for years, now - some bits are more like pebbles than dust, actually. We weren't ringing the chapel bells last week, because they would probably knock that little guy up there right down into the garth. I would listen to the workers from my cubicle window: lots of annoying drill noises and every now and then some Polish.


Here's a view of one of the boxes of accreditation materials I've been helping to put together.

So, I'm bored.

Classes start at Seabury today. And I'm feeling a bit like a leftover casserole, here. I'm trying to pray about it, but mostly I would like my life to move on. I'd like to have work that uses more of these skills I've been honing for the last four years. But it's just not going to be that way for a while yet, so I have to find a way to get used to it. But it's kind of boring. I can't go to classes (I could ask, but I'm pretty sure the answer would be "no."), I can't participate in school leadership, and I can't even go to lunch without paying $8. You know, my daily life hasn't changed much in the past three months - I'm living in my own version of Endless Summer. Endless Summer until Halloween? Thanksgiving? Christmas? Beyond...? (Eek.)

Hmm. I just remembered that I had a dream last night that it was snowing. Weird. Hard - blowing big thick flakes. I hope that's a good sign.

I'll try to think of other things to cheer myself up.

Overheard

This from a blog I happened upon called "Overheard Lines." Made family-friendly.


Guy 1: "That's a big f*ing church."

Guy 2: "God's a big f*ing guy."