was, is, will be

It is a liminal time for this human pastor woman.

Having said goodbye to a beloved congregation I await a first Sunday with a new people.

I know what was.

I do not know what will be.

The photo above was taken while on pilgrimage. The ancient walls of a much-prayed-in church in Glendalough Ireland stand as witness to enduring truth.

There is planted deep within a need to put stone upon stone to create spaces where soul is nurtured.

There is planted deep within a need to name gratitude and wonder for all that is Holy in the fulsome power of community.

There is a pandemic-enhanced awareness that loneliness and fear are not inconsequential challenges and finding a place to be called by name and claimed by kin is holy, holy, holy.

I know what was. I don’t know what will be.

I do know what is: Breath. Hope. Grief. Anticipation. Gratitude.

Stone upon stone.

The sun rises.

A new day dawns.