Lent Day 9; Post #3

I worked with a pastor once who said there was someone who sat on God's shoulder whose job it was to record every time we say "I will never..." or "I will definitely...". The natural response often seemed to be, "Heh - watch this!" Hence the lack of my surprise when after proclaiming I'd be writing daily, I had to leave work early yesterday not feeling well. Bless it. Writing yesterday was thwarted. Today I've been in Decatur in a full-day meeting as part of a Lilly Foundation grant committee. I'm back on my seminary's campus - a year ago I was finishing capstone classes, projects and papers. Today I'm an alumnus. What a difference a year makes! Nonetheless, it's well after 9pm (thanks to a 6am wakeup and the 1.5-hour drive to get the 25 miles from my house to campus - Atlanta traffic, how I loathe thee). But words are happening.

Today was lovely - we explored how the invitation to dream of ways to better include children in worship has grown into reality within our team and among partner churches throughout the world. We dreamed about how we might facilitate more learning and exploration with even more churches! And we got to be creative in thinking about ways to make it happen. [I'd like to take this opportunity to thank the Eli Lilly Foundation for their generosity and support of this project (no speed-talking about potential side effects needed for this work)]. In a moment of unexpected grace, the very work we were called to do today gave birth to a sermon I will preach in 10 days for Children's & Youth Sunday.

There's so much I love about working with children, and I've gotten more comfortable working with youth. Teenagers used to scare me, but now that we've almost made it to our own two having gotten to their 20s, I feel a tad more confident. Suffice it to say, today reminded me of how much richer my life is when I pay attention to the people far younger than me in it. I remembered today that I need to do my best to resist the urge to develop thick skin and fall into the trap of cynicism. I remembered today that life is fuller when I cultivate the eyes and heart of a child who sees wonder in so much more than my 48-year-old self does. It seems this season of remembering we're dust and to dust we'll return can feel more trap than liberation if I focus on what I've outgrown instead of remembering how much more growth I have to do.

Here's to reclaiming wonder and here's to the bit of a spoiler alert for the sermon I'll preach next week. I'm still surprised when people call me reverend or pastor - some days I feel like an imposter and some days I'm just deeply grateful. Today's a grateful day and I celebrate it.