Forgive me, blogger, for I have slacked off. It's been a couple of weeks since my last post. So long, in fact, that I'm out of practice. My writing bones are creaking and my mushy brain is reeling from the strain. There's so much to write about, so much to process, that I don't know where to begin. And thus the silence. But it's now or never, I guess, and I enjoy this process too much to give it up. I suppose blogging is a calling itself.
Over the past two weeks, I've sent my baby boy off to kindergarten, and my baby girl off to full-day preschool. I've ended my 8 year position for a new job asinterim chaplain of Hollins University (after juggling the two concurrently for a crazy two weeks). I've said "goodbye" and "hello" over and over, and I've been welcome, affirmed, missed, and bid good riddance (okay, maybe not the latter...at least not outloud!). I've met numerous new people, learned countless new procedures and processes, and worried how I would remember it all. And yet, all has been touched by the spirit of God. There is a newness and energy even in my exhaustion. There is creativity and potential even as I have the arduous task of following a beloved chaplain of 24 years. There has been the grace and opportunity to serve alongside and learn from my predecessor over the past few weeks and I'm so grateful for her gentle, supportive, and honest guidance. I've fallen in love with this ministry and am dreaming far beyond the 10 months they've promised me, praying that I have years to explore and learn and teach. I've felt both younger and older than my 34 years. Sometimes I get swept up in the spirit of campus life and almost forget I'm not still a(n official) student, but, thank God, there are also times when the realization hits with relief.
I've felt guilt at the added hours away from my family and for the household tasks that I've had to surrender. And yet I'm so thankful and proud of my capable husband who is handling it all with grace and love. It is all such a gift, and I'm humbled by it.
There is still much to learn and many ways in which to go. I have to make my own boundaries, for this job could quickly suck up my entire life. I have to prioritize, or the minutiae could bury me. I have to learn to let go (of fears, of unreasonable expectations, of comparisons) and jump wholly into the unknown, trusting that I've been given all I need.
My children, entering their new worlds with wonder and bravery, give me a great example to follow.