This morning was a celebration of my ministry at Richmond Beach Congregational Church and of my retirement.  It's a big step - and I felt honored and loved by the gracious acceptance of my retirement.  It will feel strange not to be at RBCC on Sunday mornings or heading to choir rehearsal on Thursday nights.  I will miss you.  Thank you to everyone at RBCC for being a part of my journey through life.  Thank you for your gifts today - and the many gifts of support through the years.

I've had some quotes by Rev. Cameron Trimble posted in my office, to help me towards this point.  One says "To chart a new path, you first have to get comfortable with feeling lost."  Another says "Not everyone will understand your journey.  That's okay.  You're here to live your life, not to make everyone understand."  I am beginning to feel comfortable with the idea that I might get lost.  I'm answering people's questions of "what will you be doing" with "I don't know."  And I'm ok with that response!

Tonight begins the holy day of Rosh Hashanah for our Jewish brothers and sisters.  Rosh Hashanah is the beginning of the new year.  Rosh Hashanah is a doorway to what is yet unknown, offering us opportunities available only when we risk stepping beyond the threshold of the ending of one year and into the birth of what is to be.  Such synchronicity!  Beth and I will be participating in Rosh Hashanah services with Rabbi Ted Falcon at Unity Church in Lynnwood.  I hope it will be a good combination with my retirement service.

Over the last few months, I have been honored to lead memorial services for two friends - Diane and Hanna.  They were both wonderful people and taught me a lot about how to live and how to die.  They pushed me spiritually, challenged me, and we grew together as we explored questions about faith together.  Walking with them, combined with singing with the Threshold Singers, has broadened my perspective on life and death.  Thank you Hanna and Diane, and thank you to those who loved them.  

retirement

"Sometimes you have to let go of the picture of what you thought life would be like and learn to find joy in the story you are living."  (Rev. Cameron Trimble, Piloting Faith).

This seems to be a lesson that I learn over and over.  And am learning it yet again.  Life throws us curve balls and we have to let go in order to continue to enjoy living.  This last month, I mailed a letter to the congregation where I have served as spiritual director for the last 17 years.  The letter said I am retiring, effective September 29th.  Retirement means leaving that congregation.  Not only have I been a spiritual director there for 17 years, but I was a lay member there for 32 years before that.  It's a big step.  A step in faith that I am answering the call of God.  In my letter, I concluded with the chorus lines of a hymn,  "You Have Come Down to the Lakeshore."  Those lines are

O Jesus, you have looked into my eyes,

kindly smiling, you've called out my name.

On the sand I have abandoned my small boat

Now with you, I will seek other seas.

I do not know what those other seas are.  I do know that within the next couple of years that my partner Beth and I will move to Panorama in Lacey.  I do not know where or if I'll go to church on Sunday mornings.  My letter said I'll wander in the wilderness.  Why?  Because wilderness wandering is required in order to let go of the picture of what I thought life would be like.  It is required to find joy in my new story.  Another quote from Rev. Trimble is "To chart a new path, you first have to get comfortable with feeling lost."

Are you comfortable with feeling lost?  I know I'm really not.  I want to know what's happening when.  That's impossible and I know that but I still have this tendency to hang on to the belief that somehow I'm in control. You'd think by this time, I'd have given up this attempt!!!

Mary Oliver asks in her poem, Summer Day,  "What will you do with your one wild & precious life?"  Retirement is a new way if answering that question.   In an earlier blog post, I said that walking with a friend as she died led me to ask that question again.  I hope that I can walk into retirement with both curiosity & intentionality.   I want to be curious & explore options but not just drift.  I need purpose in my life.  It seems like an important balance at this point as I seek other seas.