"It must be really hard being in Owensboro every week?" "How do you manage the commute?" "How much longer will you have to do this?" "You must really miss your family." These are the questions (and statements) I often get asked now that I'm temporarily serving Trinity Episcopal, and I'm never quite sure how to answer, and I always feel a little guilty... So here it is--yes I definitely miss my family more than you can possibly know. I miss worshiping with them; I miss their commentary on my sermons (good and bad); I miss serving them at the altar. But I am so grateful for this summer and how the community of Trinity Episcopal Church welcomed them in and made them a part of the community; I love that every Sunday many many people ask how they each are--by name; and I love technology that lets me record my sermons and send them to the family so I still get commentary. And I know they will be back here when they can because they too have grown to love and feel a part of this wonderful community. I love this community; I am a better person because I am part of this community. So yes, I miss my family but I am still surrounded by love.
Manage the commute, well that's hard--not the drive down on Sunday mornings--I'm an early bird, but Tuesday afternoons I'd rather be taking a nap, writing, ironing or polishing silver. But I have podcasts to listen to and it gives me quiet time to think about my sermon for the upcoming week. If I'm really bored (read need to be able to stay awake) I call a friend and despite the few dead zones have a chance to reconnect. It's the gift of time.
How much longer--right now the answer is through Nov. 1. That's a hard question to answer because if it's longer than that it's because Father Pat needs more recovery time. I know how much he wants to be back full on, and I know I will have to say good bye (or see you later) to this community. In the meantime, I am soaking up his leadership and giving thanks for this gift of ministry I am sharing with the people of Trinity.
And now the hardest to answer--it must be really hard. In some ways (read the above answers) but in more ways--well let me explain...
When I was asked that question this past week, the first thought I had was, "actually it's a living sanctuary." I didn't know where that thought came from, so like the good english major I am, I googled the definition of sanctuary. Many sites had the definition, "A place of refuge or safety", and yes that was part of it, but yourdictionary.com said this, "The definition of a sanctuary is a place of refuge or rest, a place where you can feel at peace or the holiest part of a temple or church." Yep, I thought that's it.
Shortly after I arrived in Owensboro in June, I received a text from a parishioner offering me her parents home as a place to stay. They don't attend Trinity she told me but they know lots of people who do. She said they'd be out of town for a couple of weeks but then they still wanted me to stay. I hesitated--really? People I didn't even know were not only offering me a place to stay but were allowing me to use their home having never meet me? And their daughter who also didn't know me was extending the invitation, meeting me there, showing me around, changing sheets...I was overwhelmed and nervous. I accepted with the thought in the back of my mind, "Well I can stay there until they're back, and then we'll see."
They're back; I'm still there. These wonderful people have not only opened their home to me; they have opened their lives. I figured (that's Georgia speak not UVA english major speak) I would use their home as a place to sleep; I budgeted in eating meals out and hoped I'd be quiet enough for them. They'd have none of it. We eat together. In the evenings when I ask how I can help Carolyn says, "You can just sit right there and talk to me while I cook." and she means it. After dinner they shoo me off to bed while they clean up. I spend these two nights around their table often with others and experience table fellowship--it is fun; it is lively; it is sacramental; it is holy; it is sanctuary.
Every Monday morning they send me off to work with a "have a good day; see you tonight."
I arrive at work Starbucks in hand for the parish administrator and myself. I had no idea how we'd get along. I know her work is harder because I'm only in the office two days a week, and I know how much she loves Father Pat. I was afraid I'd feel like an interloper. How wrong I was.
Our offices are connected by a door which is usually left wide open. I guess in the beginning we forgot we could hear one another's calls--I'm grateful. I'll never forget the morning Sheri walked into my office and said, "I couldn't help but overhear. Do you want to talk about it?" Now every Monday morning we catch up on one another's lives. We share our fears and disappointments, our hopes and dreams. Sheri ministers to me and I hope I to her. It is sacred; it is holy; it is sanctuary.
So yes it's hard, but not as hard as you might think. It is a time of holiness, a time of peace, a time of sanctuary. I am cared for; I am listened to; I am refreshed; I am loved. And so I can go home and offer the same to my family (at least I can try).
It is the place; it is the people. They know what it means to be sanctuaries; I suspect they would just say, "we're just being who we are" but I say, "because of who you are I am experiencing sanctuary. Because of who you are, I am blessed."
I can't help but think about one of my favorite songs--I have always loved it, but I haven't always understood it--now I do. I pray I too am being prepared to be a sanctuary...
Lord, prepare me to be a Sanctuary
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