It has been nearly a year since I last posted to my blog.
Not out of a lack of interest: I do enjoy writing. But I would guess it is more
a matter of my difficulty in determining which hat or hats I am now wearing and
whether I can hold on to them long enough to post something before the winds of
change blow them away.
Over the past year in the picturesque mountains of rural Western Maryland, I have experienced the highs and lows of mountaintops and valleys. I have held hands with a dozen or so active parishioners as they decided that they no longer could continue to hold services as a viable independent parish. Exhausted of energy, time and a range of needed talents, the people needed to look elsewhere to develop new church community relationships. We grieved together, but we knew that we needed to say “goodbye” to that which no longer was viable to participate in something new and growing. It was a courageous faith-filled decision, and I was blessed to be one of their companions.
I mourned
that change as their parish priest, but I rejoiced in their strength of faith
and resilience as they moved on to other parish communities. They have since
discovered new interests and activities in their new church homes. Some have
explored other new interests now that they no longer have had to be the sole
(and soul) sustaining force in their previous community.
And now I
rejoice again as I wear my ministry developer and diocesan staff “hat” as I see
other church communities look at those same tired buildings and envision new
possibilities for those facilities. Imagination—God-centered imagination--is at
work as these church communities tour the buildings and suggest new life to be
born inside. Like a young butterfly emerging from a cocoon, the possibilities
are yet to unfurl.
Yet, I also
explore several of the other “hats” that I wear as well. I continue to visit
the sick, the dying, the grieving. I listen to their stories. I sit quietly
beside them. I coax them to see the possibilities. I invite them to acknowledge
God’s presence with them in the times of struggle and of rejoicing. And
sometimes—yes, sometimes—I hear them speak of new ways in which to direct their
energy as they emerge from loss, sickness or grief. Those are very special
moments. I witness new life, and I am invited to the most precious of
invitations: to companion them in their grief, fears and sadness.
Ministry
development requires many hats and many hat changes. I wonder which hat I will
wear next?! I guess I will know better tomorrow.
Theresa+
