I have not written on my blog for quite some time; over a year in fact. In the past I have often had starts and stops when it comes to writing, times of inspiration and dry spells, times when the words flow and the inspiration is easy, and other seasons where it seems dry and I have to dig deep. But this past year has been – significant. Different. Longer. Shorter. Harder. Better.
I had a child. Moved our family of four across the country. Said good-bye to a church family and some of my deepest friends in the world. Left the city that shaped my call to ministry and justice and academia. Started a full-time pastoral position. Saw my eldest start kindergarten. Presided over a memorial service for several homeless people in my new city. Baptized my niece. Started to fall in love with a new city. Taught a seminary class. Enjoyed summer on the north west coast. Celebrated new births and mourned lives passing. Met 750-or-so people in my new church where I hit the ground running by listening, leading, organizing, following, teaching, learning, pastoring, preaching, and loving these new people who I am now knit together with. I am starting my seventh month of ministry in this new season and I think, finally, the dust is settling and I am feeling ready. Ready to write. Ready to build more deeply. To reflect more deeply. Ready for more.
Not writing this past year has been a metaphor for the truth that I have not had enough space to process, to reflect, to write, to think, to engage, to integrate. Only a few times did the need to write interrupt the fullness of everyday life. I wrote to my baby boy just days before he came into this world. I wrote for his baptism. I wrote