As Bishop Whayne Hougland might say, “What’s up, y’all?”
I don’t know about you, but for me it’s been a long, cold, difficult winter, and combined with a variety of bothersome ailments, things breaking around the house, and my unreliable internet connection, it has made me even more depressed and frazzled than usual.
I remember reading, when I was a child, that all it would take for another Ice Age to happen is for the snow to last through the summer for three years in a row. This winter has made that improbable threat seem all too likely. You see, I’m one of those who, if I found myself surrounded by stampeding elephants, would slowly shake my head and think, “I knew it. This was bound to happen someday.”
So you can imagine my thrill when I was asked to run for vestry again. It’s true that my first term on vestry was unexpectedly rich and rewarding. But this would be a whole new group of people, many of whom I had barely even had a conversation with before—a daunting prospect for an introvert loner like me. I could almost feel marauders circling.
But it hasn’t been that way at all. I’m proud to have been a part of the decisions we’ve made in our first three meetings. I’ve been a Food Pantry volunteer for over ten years, so I’m especially pleased by the vestry’s support of the Pantry’s upcoming move and expansion. We also sent aid to those who lost their homes to the typhoon in the Philippines. On our retreat in February we prayed, studied, and discerned together. My fellow vestry members aren’t marauders after all, and I look forward to getting to know them better as we serve this congregation over the next three years. Of course, a boulder will probably fall on the church by then. So let’s do as much good as we can as fast as we can.
It’s the first day of spring, the pile of snow at the end of my driveway is down from about seven feet to five or so, and there’s visible blue sky at least once or twice a week. Maybe spring weather will come; surely Easter will come. Thanks be to God.
Your vestry representative for the curmudgeon contingent,
(Thanks to my daughter, Elizabeth, for help in preparing this article.)