Moments of discovery

Since Christmas I have been picking up the pieces of my life in an attempt to move on. Sometimes this involved literally sorting through my stuff, the bits of life that have moved around with me from place to place over the last seven years and the bits that were left in piles and boxes that I didn't want to throw out, but couldn't move with me for a short period of time. Sometimes this involved sifting through emotions and wondering "now what?" Almost always the one involved the other. What an exhausting process! I was so excited once those pieces were, for the most part, picked up, boxed and moved. I thought I was nearing the end of that process, but I have discovered instead that now comes the task of unpacking and deciding where things belong. Of course, some things are easy: kitchen things go in the kitchen, books go on shelves, etc. Other things are a bit more difficult: knickknacks, art, posters, pictures, and more generally figuring out HOW to set up each room. It seems to me that this is almost more exhausting that picking up, packing and moving.

I'm reminded of a scene in the film Under the Tuscan Sun where Francis, the lead character from San Francisco buys a house in Tuscany and moves in. She says: "The trick to overcoming buyers remorse is to have a plan. Pick one room and make it yours. Go slowly through the house. Be polite. Introduce yourself. So it can introduce itself to you." While buyers remorse isn't necessarily a problem for me, I'm feeling some of the same emotions as that character as I attempt to settle in. As I try to make this house my home, it certainly is introducing itself to me! I'm discovering the items left behind by the previous minister. Today this meant finding a bunch of garden tools under the stairs in my cold and cobwebby basement. Some things are more random: a bunch of teapots without lids, a hi-fi turntable, an old table sewing machine without a bobbin holder, amongst other goodies that I've not yet explored. So along with the task of unpacking comes the task of deciding what to do with all this old stuff, what belongs to the church, what I can send to the dump, what could find a place in a museum or perhaps sold at a church garage sale.

Of course this inheritance of items left behind extends into the pastoral charge as well, where they are not so much items as they are memories, expectations and habits based on what the previous minister(s) did, or did not do. This is true of any new pastoral charge, or perhaps of any new job. It's an interesting process of discovery as some things are a little more obvious than others. So I'm currently in the process of building relationships and trust with both congregation and community members. Right now I'm finding this a long, slow process, and so I'm drawing on my experience working with youth in Northern Alberta, and am trying to redefine ideas of success. Success for me right now comes in meeting new people, remembering peoples names, and of course those "thin moments" or grace-filled moments of sharing stories, and by virtue of my job title, sharing in life changing moments. Such are the true moments of discovery for me.