Thursday Morning Moment
“Hey!! Janey!!
. . .What is this thing?"
. . .The "thing" in question was some kind of delectable lemony cupcake. For the girl trying to limit gluten, it looked fine indeed, even partially consumed. The little one inquiring was one of our youngest men. I was flying around Memorial Hall as though on roller blades; some Wednesday nights the time between Evening Prayer and teaching is short. This night, some emotional pastoral concerns had shortened it even more.
I stopped to answer, frankly charmed because I had been flagged down with such urgent —but affectionate informality. We are neighbors, so he does not always see me as the priest. But we are all neighbors. And I am so grateful that our children do not see me as someone costumed and distant, pontificating in some sort of foreign language. It matters to me with all my heart that they want to talk to me. I shamelessly savor their hugs and loving glances when they come my way.
It heals my heart.
“Some kind of cupcake,” I acknowledged. It looks good!” He nodded in affirmation, more of the cupcake disappearing. The trail of crumbs down his shirt and the icing on his nose made me grin.
Even when I am not in Memorial Hall very long, I love seeing the intergenerational community we are building on our Wednesday evenings. Our children are learning that this is an extended family, and that sharing a meal on Wednesday night with that family is an important marker in the week. “Wonderful Wednesdays” used to be only for our youngest ones; now we all get to look forward to it.
I thought about that as I turned to leave. Evening Prayer had given me a sacred pause, shared with those who gathered. We had more than ‘two or three,’ and Jesus definitely showed up. The gluten free pizza was all the more delicious for the care and love behind providing it, and although I barely sat, I did get to catch up with some of the really fun people gathered for dinner.
Some days, it is really all about noticing and savoring the little things that bring us joy. . . like a calorie free cupcake shared with a friend.
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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