Gallivanting

Some people in my family call me to ask where I am. "We were sitting here over dinner wondering where in the world you actually are now." This has certainly been a year of freedom to go and do whatever I wished, and I have enjoyed it. I have tried to use this time well, as I know that being a pastor somewhere will usurp my time and energy so completely that I will not have such unfettered time again. My trip to London in December was just such an indulgence. The price was right, a friend was ready to go; we went. As I prepared to leave Mississippi, I e-mailed a friend in Western New York state to see if I could visit before I went back to California.
She is a enjoying her first experience as a pastor by shepherding two small congregations on the shore of Lake Erie. Her parsonage is a four-bedroom, two-story house, with plenty of room for guests, so her answer was a delighted YES.

I drove away from Biloxi on a Friday afternoon, and spent the night in Houston. I wanted to see an exhibit at the Museum of Fine Arts, Houston of a 17th Century Dutch floral painter - Van Hylsum. What a wonderful gallery. I took a quick tour through their 20th Century gallery, stopped in the museum shop (my downfall, always), and then headed for the Rothko Chapel about a mile away. The chapel itself was wonderfully situated in a park with a Barnett Newman sculpture in a reflecting pool, especially lovely in the misty rain. But I was disappointed by the paintings. I had recently seen a room full of Rothkos glowing in the dimmed light in the Tate Modern in London. The paintings at the Tate were haunting and compelling. There was no comparison. Then late that Saturday night, I arrived at Richard and Dianne's in Dallas for a miniscule visit before flying off to Buffalo on Monday.

Western New York was even more beautiful than I expected. Small villages separated by stretches of hardwood forest, all blanketed with fresh snow. The lake was frozen and a few fishermen had shacks far from shore. We drove all over the countryside - Amish farms, the Chautauqua Institution, an Arts and Crafts village in East Aurora, and Niagara Falls from the Canadian side complete with a side trip to Niagara on the Lake, a tiny tourist town at the edge of Lake Ontario. It was wonderful to see K at work in her two churches -- they love her, and she is on the way to being a wonderful pastor. But it was hard to watch her at work in her parishes, I so long for my own. There are some openings for pastors in the Upstate New York Synod. Maybe one of them could be mine. We had such a good time together, laughing and comparing experiences since our seminary days two years ago. It was like balm after the intensity of my Biloxi time, and its hard farewells.

A few days more in Dallas and a farewell to Richard and Dianne on my return from Buffalo. I have been able to spend so much time with them in the last year. Their home feels like home to me. What a gift that has been. It was hard to leave, knowing that I will not be just heading back in a few weeks or months.

I wanted to see Taos again, and to visit my new favorite shopping venue - a jewelry store in which the owner makes most of the jewely herself. I also found wonderful wool to feed my knitting addiction. It is hand-spun and dyed with plants from the Taos area. And then to Sun City and my sister, after a drive through the Arizona mountains.

My sister, Pat, is recovering from serious abdominal surgery and some complications that followed shortly after. I was planning an overnight, but stayed for three days. It gave me a chance to visit Lord of Life Lutheran Church, which had sent a group to Biloxi with their pastor only a few weeks before I left. And then to Santa Barbara and Marti's wonderful home.

Two weeks later, I have still not unpacked all my suitcases. I have just enough in the closet to get dressed every day. This week I drove to Sacramento for a conference with the Bishops and their assistants who place pastors in congregations. It was an opportunity to network, interview, get feedback on my interview style and tips on better interveiw skills. It also gave me a chance to stay overnight with a fellow seminarian who has just received her first call, and some other seminary friends who were in town for the same conference. We had dinner and drank a lot of wine and caught up and laughed about old times. Our seminary class was very small - not good for the school, but a boon for us, as we become very attached to each other. I stopped in Berkeley on my way out of Sacramento, staying with another seminary friend who is completing an MA. It gave me a chance to visit with another whole group of friends and professors. I do not miss being a student, but I do miss the challenge of academic life, and the community that lives on the seminary hill. After a long ride down the California coast, I am once again at Marti's.

I promised a friend who is in Mexico City this year on internship that I would visit her in April. Wow, April is already here. I am divided in my thinking about another trip. Wouldn't it be fun to fly off to Mexico for a week? But the idea of packing and making flight arrangements is a little daunting. I am feeling a bit disconnected from my own feelings, I think. Having stopped back at Marti's feels like coming home. It has given all the feelings of longing and disappointment connected to my expectations of a call to a congregation a chance to catch up with me. My decision to become more assertive in my search for a first call has turned up a few possibilites, and I don't even know what to expect in that line from the conference this week. Anyway, this morning I awoke with new energy, ready to sign up for a Spanish class and maybe go back to the gym. Is it the affirmation of inteviewing well and getting good feedback that feels so good, or is it having a chance to spend time with people you are glad to see after a long absence? I wish I had an answer. One think I know: waiting sucks. But perhaps I am gaining the virtue of patience, whether I want it or not.

I bought a guide book on Mexico today. Maybe my gallivanting days are not over yet.