|
For most of my life I haven’t experienced writer’s block. I don’t write as well or fast as some, but as someone who writes a lot, it’s a nice condition to have avoided. That is until I started writing a book, or trying to. I can spend hours outlining, researching, playing with ideas until they’ve strayed so far they go into a separate note for “future book ideas”, as if a first will ever get done. Because when I stare at a blank page in Word to turn an idea into a paragraph, or an outline into a chapter, there is something so daunting about the immensity of what it requires, of my inability to do the work justice, that I find myself incapable of writing. It was a similar feeling Thursday and Friday as my calendar reminded me repeatedly about this week’s blog post. And, to be sure, I doubt any who have read them over the last year and then some would count them as immense (though perhaps too long at times) or particularly moving. Mostly it’s been a place for me to explore minor characters from Bob’s Burgers, rant about bad theology, or to reference They Might Be Giants songs from the 90s. But the transition to a new charge is filled with lots of lasts, and now I’m at another. So I wanted this blog entry to be special, to express gratitude, but I have no words. I finally turned to poetry for inspiration, and read again this expression of hope, “Morning”, by Yahia Lababidi: Every day, regardless
of the night’s previous
sulks or arguments, morning climbs into bed
breathless as a child
eager to play.
I was first drawn to this ironically; I am very much not a morning person. The idea of celebrating the morning, especially a morning that presents with that much energy, is far from inviting. But it was the initial line that eventually hooked me: “Every day, regardless”. There’s a tremendous amount of hope in that expression. Even before Lababidi recalls what was true about yesterday, he states as a matter of fact: “Every day, regardless”. Every day, new opportunity, hope, joy to be had, regardless. And today I recognize, and celebrate, that this hope is one we hold in faith for what lies ahead for us as well. While I grieve the departure, I trust the Holy Spirit to continue to be at work in me, in you, and in San Marco Church. I have hope those days will bring new life, new opportunity, new joy to be had. I am deeply grateful to each of you, for the journeys we have been on, and for the privilege I’ve had for the last few years as those journeys came together. I will be praying for you and for San Marco Church in the mornings ahead, with hope and trust that God will continue to be at work in and through you. With thanks, Rev. Ben Richards Ps. Don’t forget that tomorrow before and during worship - brunch at 10a, worship at 11a - will be a potluck brunch. Consider bringing something to share, but either way I hope to see all of you there.
|
