Confused
My lilac bush is pushing Spring as the days get shorter and darker and colder. Bet that is a metaphor somehow for how I OUGHT to be living as a person of the Resurrection instead of merely yearning to hibernate. . .
In the intervening time since my last post, I have been diligently pushing out a weekly column, From the Treehouse, for our church family. That felt important during the Pandemic at its isolating height, but now we have returned to a crazier life, fraught with all of the anxiety Covid has brought, but missing the slower pace of the previous months. I have been advised that people are now too busy to read those sorts of things,—and if my own inbox is any witness, I absolutely get it. I have been pondering this culture of ‘both/and’ that has pervaded keeping a church going in these challenging times. Many things have two sides. Streaming our services means those immunocompromised folks in our parish family can still stay connected, which is something we absolutely desire. But it also means that those who might choose to return to church in person instead select an easier route. I imagine them staying home in their jammies, with coffee and a croissant or panne de chocolat
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