It's My 200th Post

It seems I should say something really profound. I was going to rant about winter. But it's 42. Oh. That's Minnesota for you. Just when you think you CANNOT stand one more day of it.... whatever IT is...the cold in winter, the hot humidity in summer, the endless gray, the wind over the prairie....it stops. That I think is why I stay. That and those two perfect days in October when the light is golden and the air is crisp and, oh well never mind....


But I don't really have anything profound to say on this 200th post. I am fighting my January blahs. I have a touch of that seasonal thing, appropriately called SAD that afflicts a good many of us northerners. It's been a little worse than usual this year. I have been more exhausted, more cranky, less able to bounce back than in earlier years. Teaching took a bigger toll than I even wanted to admit, I think. And it seems there is not much let up in the time demands. This MDG project we have chosen to be part of, exciting though it is, seems to be taking big gulps of time. My whole ministry life seems to have expanded somehow from this time last year. It's not that there are more "duties" exactly; in fact I'm doing less "things," as far as feeling like I am responsible (read over-responsible) for making sure nothing is left undone, but there seems to be "more" somehow in a qualitative sense. It's funny how that can happen. It feels more like I am a priest in a whole sense this year than last. That, I would say is a good thing. Mostly that is a happy thing. But right now, things are kind of frozen over on my spiritual landscape. So I'm feeling kind of quiet. Perhaps like the earth I'm just waiting for spring.

L has been on my mind a lot. He is struggling to find his way out here in the big world. He has gotten past the dog news a little bit, though he is still puzzled and grieving. We are still waiting to hear what's up with the possible $28 warrant. He firmly believes his mom is on his side and far be it from me to tell him anything different on that front. He did join us for worship this Sunday. Since I was in choir this week, I entrusted him to the care of one of my sweet and nurturing parishioners. She's a mom of a college-age daughter and a prof at the college. I knew I could count on her to shepherd him through the intricacies of prayer book and pew aerobics, and she did not let me down. After church L and I talked a bit about how much church experience he actually does have. "Some," he says, but he is not really sure what kind. "Kind of like this," he says. And I noticed he knew the sign of the cross and other fairly high church intricacies, so who knows? He says his mom stopped taking them after his brother died, and that would have been when he was about six or so. After that, his main contact with church was "skateboarding past one" he says with his disarming smile. Tomorrow he and I will pay a visit to my friend M over at the college and her coworker J. J is an artist who has an interest in young talent. He also has some other things in common with L and wants to meet him and see his work. So that might perk up both our weeks. L also has another job interview tomorrow. I'm praying that he doesn't call his mom about this one.