Monday, August 19, 2013

Summertime...

Starting to slowly shift gears today as I prepare for another 2 weeks of vacation.  In each church I have served over the years a unique rhythm has emerged that is both soul-satisfying for me and unique unto the congregation.  In Michigan, when my daughters were small, we took three weeks in a row and travelled back to Massachusetts and the family cottage in Webster.  It was an inexpensive and mostly relaxing way to stay connected with family and rest by our sweet Lake Chargoggagoggmanchauggagoggchaubunagungamaugg (I'm not kidding - check it out: http:// www.nytimes. com/2004/11/20/ national/ 20lake.html?_r=0)

(Note:  he butchers the name but  after all it is Fox New so...)

In Cleveland, where the girls were still small, we made some trips to the lake but also visited our respective families from time to time - including a regular week away at my parents' home in Bowie, MD after Easter.  By the time we hit Tucson (sounds like a Jimmie Webb song) life had changed and the demands of ministry were different; both daughters had moved into their adult lives and we were older so we most often took a full month away at the end of the summer to camp in the quiet of Ghost Ranch in Abiquiu, NM. 

Ghost Ranch, a massive Presbyterian retreat center that was once the home of artist Georgia O'Keeffe, is serene, private and beautiful.  What's more, their small but sophisticated library was open 24 hours a day so what more could two church geeks want - especially if it rained!  Once each trip we would head into Santa Fe for a look at the museums and then make one more sortie to Taos. For most of the month, however, we were mostly hiking, reading or loving the whole groove from the safety of our little our tent.  We also always made a brief pilgrimage one afternoon to Holy Chimayo - the Lourdes of North America - a place of history and prayer where some of the best chilie peppers are grown and sold, too. (Check it out @http://www. elsantuariodechimayo.us/Santuario/ index.html)
When we arrived in quiet New England, however, not only were we older still - and not so ready to sleep on the ground - but let's face it:  this place is MUCH colder than New Mexico.  So, a whole other rhythm has emerged that works well for us as introverts who love to travel.  Every six to eight weeks we get away to a small arts town in greater New England for 1-2 nights - it is a retreat and renewal time for us both from the busyness - then each summer I take two weeks at the start and two weeks at the end of the season.  The front end always takes us to my home away from home:  Montreal and one of their music festivals.  And for the last week of August and the first of September we do some further exploration of the beautiful part of the US.  This year we're going to the North Shore of Boston and Ipswich (where Dianne's people settled when they first came to his continent from jolly old England.)

I will also have some time to visit with my daughters, do a LOT of practicing my upright bass and take in some of the local clubs while reading a combination of mysteries, lives of the saints and jazz history.  After Labor Day, we hit the ground running with a variety of commitments to church and community that includes strengthening our congregation based justice network, working with local artists on a project to open the Sanctuary as a gallery-workshop, hosting a youth dance for our LGBT allies, introducing the congregation to the new liturgical season of CREATION (we've been working with artists to "dress" the Sanctuary in a new way; for some good background, please go to: http://seasonofcreation.com/about/) and pull together our annual Thanksgiving Eve Festival of American Music (a concert with local musicians designed to raise emergency fuel assistance funds.)  And then, of course, it will be Advent.

And sometime in the next 30 days, our first grandchild will be born!  So, today is a gentle unplugging from the rhythm of work:  I have a few meetings but we'll also meet a couple tonight for a glass of red wine and some jazz funk, too. As once was said, "Summertime..."

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