Finis

The tide rises, the tide falls...

Along the sea-sands damp and brown 

The traveler hastens toward the town, 

And the tide rises, the tide falls.

The little waves, with their soft, white hands
Efface the footprints in the sands,
And the tide rises, the tide falls...

The day returns, but nevermore
Returns the traveler to the shore.
And the tide rises, the tide falls...

These words of Henry Wadsworth Longfellow are echoing in my mind as I pen my final Family Matters article this morning. They remind me of the constant motion of life - the greater story of life - and our role...at least my role in it.  I have enjoyed walking the beach of life with you over the past several years. We've left footprints in a host of wonderful places - places where we have walked and talked and prayed and eaten and laughed and hoped and cried and celebrated together. All of these footprints have been significant...and will linger for various lengths of time in their influence.  But...the tide rises, the tide falls.

I am grateful to have walked with you. I envy those who will walk with you after me. I rest in the fact that we continue in a story larger than ourselves - what I've done or left undone is held in the hand of God. God must increase...I must decrease....the tide rises the tide falls...

A Healthy Goodbye

I LEFT THE AIRPORT…in Atlanta leaving twenty-one friends behind.  My departure might be better described as having ‘slunk away.’ We had spent a wonderful time of pilgrimage together in Israel.  We had enjoyed meals and prayers and conversations and worship.  I felt cloe to each of these persons – some more than others.  But when it came time to say goodbye, I found the edges of the crowd, shook a couple of hands, hugged a couple of necks and quietly made my way to the door…trying to be unnoticed…   

I LEFT THE LOBBY…of the hotel in Houston.  A friend escorted me to the taxi that would shuttle me to the airport.  I said a quick goodbye, hopped in the cab and rode away.  Later, my friend told me I never looked back…

I LEFT MARIETTA…and moved to Baxley, Georgia.  For months, I had no contact with the friends  I had left behind.  Finally, one friend called and said, “You didn’t just say goodbye, you amputated us!”  He then added, “I’m not going to let you drop our friendship by the wayside.”  We talked this past Friday…

I HAVE ALWAYS…hated goodbyes.  I’m assuming it is the result of parents and stepparents and foster parents and pseudo parents coming in and out of my life so often as a child.  I unintentionally learned to hold loosely to the people in my life.  I developed a habit of letting go too soon and too completely…

OUR GOODBYE…will be hard, but I’m convinced a bit more healthy.  Boundaries will be established to make room for another minister.  Contact will be less frequent as we tend life in new ways.  But we will not ignore the bonds that have been created through life shared in God’s kingdom.  There are too many memories and too many moments to ignore.  We are simply saying goodbye to a season…not to one another…and that feels right and good and healthy…

Finales

ONE OF...the most difficult aspects of ending an era is doing things for the last time; it's a sobering self-awareness. I felt it several times during the final weeks of 2011. Knowing that I was being tugged in the direction of change, our annual Children's Sunday, Thanksgiving Communion, Hanging of the Green, Sundays of Advent, Christmas Eve Service, and Christmas Morning Service all had a bittersweet bend. In recent days, I've participated in my last Deacons meeting, Seekers in Sneakers event, Taize Service, and ordination council as your pastor. They may be passing moments for some, but they have been poignant moments for me... 

SEVERAL MORE...of these moments will meander my way in the coming days. Some will be private. On Sunday morning, February 12, I will follow a familiar routine for the last time as your pastor. I'll pull out my laptop at 8:00 a.m., review and revise the sermon, send it to the printer at 8:20, read it one more time in hard copy, fold the sheets and tuck them in my Bible....at 8:30. It's been clockwork for years. Other pending moments are less private; they are moments I hope you will engage and enjoy with me. Sunday morning, February 4 is Men's Day and Super Bowl Sunday; I'll be here. On Wednesday evening, February 8, I'll lead our midweek prayer service for the last time as your pastor. Sunday, February 12, will be my last day in the pulpit. During the morning service, I will lead in the service of communion - as your pastor - for the last time. During the evening service, we will celebrate the ordinance of baptism. These are all beautiful, bittersweet moments. I hope you'll share them with me...

 

Answering Questions

YES... This Sunday, I will be sharing with our church my resignation as your pastor.  I want to thank you for allowing me to generously leak this information to the church and community in order to avoid the melodramatic bomb dropping of an announcement during a worship service.  With the dissemination of this information, lots of questions have emerged.  I've tried to answer all of them as they have been posed.  Some of them require public attention...
 
YES... Our monthly Taize Service will be held on Tuesday evening, January 17.  Those of us who are drawn to this style of worship have come to love this monthly gathering.  It is in no way dependent upon my gifts or my presence.  However, I plan to continue to be involved - as much as possible and allowed - in the provision of this quiet space.
 
NO... The "11th Step Retreat," sponsored by our Center for Spiritual Formation, will not be held on Saturday, January 21.  This has nothing to do with my departure, but is simply a result of too few participants signing up.  Our next retreat, however, will be held on Ash Wednesday, February 22.  This retreat will be led by Sisters Geraldyne and Rosina Bayliss.  Call the office now to sign up for this event.
 
YES...I'm experiencing a flood of emotions: excitement, grief, fear...  I'm guessing some of you are feeling the same.  Let's keep talking, keep praying, and keep asking questions.  The conversations with God and one another keep us in community, regardless of our changing roles...

This Year...

THIS YEAR...things will be different.  I'm sure that's what all the new members of the fitness center are thinking.  I hope they are right.  At the gym where I exercise, it's always crowded in January.  The pool lanes are filled, the weight machines are occupied, and the track is packed.  Resolutions have been made and being resolutely kept.  I know...you know...things will clear out by February.  I'm trusting a few of the newcomers will be old friends in the months ahead.  They will commit themselves to improving their physical health and stick with it.  This year, things will be different...
 
THIS YEAR...things will be different.  In the last couple of weeks, it's been wonderful to see the rooms of our church running over with people.  On Christmas Eve, the sanctuary was packed with family and friends celebrating the holy night of Christ's birth.  On Christmas Sunday, the Great Room was surprisingly packed with bright-eyed children and bleary-eyed parents - all excited to share gifts given and received in the wee hours of the morning.  On New Year's Sunday, the chapel was full - as was the baptistery - and we welcomed a new year and new members.  I'm trusting that the excitement and commitment spurred by the holiday season will not soon wane in our hearts.  I trust we will continue to celebrate Christ's presence throughout the twists and turns and challenges and changes of days yet to come in 2012.  This year...things will be different...