On The Evil of Passwords

As it turns out, in my infinite wisdom, I have misplaced my password for my daily blog - so, I'll transfer over for the 2 of you who are reading this (and for my own records for the year).

I'm over at Marla's tonight, hanging out and decompressing.  I've been more angsty and sad today than I have been in awhile; I'm sure it's a combination of three things: 1) The lack of beautiful, shining rays of sun; 2) Sleeping too long (and too late) today and 3) Yet another rerun of House.  I woke up and didn't want to do anything, and went to work (which I love) reluctantly.  I had a nice heart-to-heart chat with the associate pastor (no sarcasm here - it was a helpful conversation) about visioning and what it would feel like to look back on "my" first program year. I'm excited to do it, but struck lately by how fast the time really does go.  What are the kids learning?  How do we know they're learning it?

I can begin to see projects unfolding in my mind; things I've wanted (and needed) to write are taking shape in my mind.  I applied for a leadership position with MOSAIC (Methodist Students for an All-Inclusive Church).  I feel like I need a strong sense of purpose outside of my position at Northminster - I miss my denomination.  I need to be involved.

Aside from general winter angst, I had a moment in the car today as I was driving back from work - the song "Somebody's Knocking at the Door" by Paul McCartney came on, and I had this video come into my mind of all my gay and lesbian friends in ministries, taking care of people, living their lives - a video made for the church in a matter-of-fact way to ask why we're not being let in.   It's still the same song, Paul - I wonder for how long though.

Along those lines, something happened during Sunday school that was beautifully innocent and powerful.  We were playing the "web" game in which the kids were sharing about the gifts they saw in their friends, and one little boy (in 2nd or 3rd grade) turned to the boy standing by him and said, "I like you because you're cute!"  Maybe that can be what I can appreciate for today.  That and Marla, for letting me lounge around with her and be myself.