Relaxation? What's that?
It's your friendly neighborhood Gypsy seminarian invading Wednesday evening this week.
As I had eluded a couple of posts prior, the semester has wound down and some were ecstatic that their siesta would last several weeks whether they were off on a J-Term excursion or digging a comfortable hole within their family's abode, vegetating on Netflix and endless home cooked meals.
Many of my fellow seminarians and friends know of the respite and contentment that I am blessed to have here within the hustle and chaos of the city. My Treehouse, is the wonderful, classic and rustic charming Hyde Park apartment surrounded literally by several huge trees and as Advent gracefully swept down the crystal catwalk, draped in shards of blue taking center stage, I was looking forward to wrapping my own self around the hearth; watching the beauty of Winter slowly cascade by my windows.
And yet, this vocational journey is not a sightseeing one; there is a rhythm reverberating from the bareness of my feet. My soul is forever bonded to the heartbeat of heaven, and every turn that is revealed to my gaze no matter how small the accomplishment or exciting the miracle or wondrous the blessing I am not weary, and I am driven further on.
Today I had the humble privilege of preaching during morning and evening prayer services at my MIC site. Although nervous because this was my inaugural time in the pulpit, My Creator's hands were upon the entire day, holding me close, telling me that it was alright not to be perfect because He promises to never leave us, nor forsake us. It was reflected back into my eyes through the smiles of the congregation, the presence of my family and the surprise visitors of my camp director's sister and of my dearest friend from college whose mother is a member of my MIC church. Today in between times we took my camp director's sister on a whirlwind tour of downtown Chicago.
Which means I did not get a nap in.
Dawn has risen once more, and the hush still settles as fog drifting over my bare feet. Tomorrow I will allow my steps to dig into the earth once more, racing towards that elusive creature that many a pastor has quoted saying "After you preach, you will be tired and will want a nap."
Blessed Advent, Merry Christmas and God's Peace.