Exactly one year ago my life was in complete chaos. I was preparing what I thought would be my last sermon ever for my last worship service at a church in the east end of Toronto, where I had arrived in 2018 for a five month supply position.
I ended up staying for five years. The picture at the top is what I brought with me in September, 2018, when I arrived to live with a friend for what I thought would be a short stint in Toronto.
Four suitcases and a knapsack.
The lower picture is of the 14 boxes that I left at my daughter’s place on October 31, 2023, to be shipped to Halifax a month later. I flew to Halifax that day with my daughter …. and another 7 suitcases.
I didn’t take a picture of the suitcases. I was probably too embarrassed. I was also very discombobulated at the time because when I checked in I had only counted 6 suitcases (Alana, when we were in line to put the suitcases on the belt said … “mom … you have SEVEN suitcases …”) and we then had to get into a much longer lineup to get a tag for the seventh suitcase.
7 suitcases and 14 boxes (sounds like a country song) … and that’s not even counting the things I had brought to Toronto over those five years (in those extra suitcases), and the half truck full of extra furniture and household stuff that Pat drove up in the spring of 2019 after I had decided to stay and I got the first apartment.
Not to mention the rest of the odds and ends I had acquired in Toronto to furnish that one bedroom apartment. All of that went to friends, family, various church refugee support groups, or the curb that last weekend in Toronto a year ago.
One year ago I was exhausted and burnt out, a little sad, and, if I am totally honest with myself, I wasn’t sure I ever wanted to step foot in church again.
I was leaving a job I had grown to love, and was good at, for that dreaded word … “retirement.” I guess many of us get there, if we are privileged and lucky enough.
I was also leaving new and old friends, family members, and a sense of identity.
I was overwhelmed, tired, and feeling pretty wobbly about the future.
But I also knew that it was time to come home. I had some health issues that I needed to make a priority, and the idea of trying to live in two places at once was no longer sustainable, financially or psychologically. Getting through Covid and other unexpected bumps during that five years had taken a toll.
My first few months back in Halifax were filled with many joys and challenges. Reconnecting with family, companionship in the evenings, old friends, a womens’ choir I was part of before I left, sleep, mystery novels, BBC series, knitting, and staying in my pajamas much of the day brought me joy and helped me heal.
Endless physio and medical appointments, navigating the UCC pension benefits plan, going through those 14 boxes and a wall of books and files in the basement from 35 years of ministry, and the voices in my head that said I would probably never “work” again were the challenges. I still have piles of stuff in strategic places to get to “one of these days”.
Gradually the fog lifted and I began to think maybe there was something left in my ministry “bag” … and I began to ask myself … did I have the confidence to even dip a toe in the water (and fill out the forms on ChurchHub … gah!)?
“How will I know if I’m supposed to put myself out there? I’ve been away for 5 years … no one remembers me” … all the “whatifs” … and they got louder and louder.
However, I’ve always been pretty good (not that I ever knew it at the time) at jumping off a metaphorical cliff without really knowing where I would land. When I moved from Toronto to Nova Scotia in my mid-twenties … when I entered theology school in my late thirties … when I left a full time secure job to take a contract half time position as a university chaplain in the 1990s … going up to Toronto in 2018.
I could fill volumes writing about times in my life when I have taken a leap into the unknown, somehow trusting in God/intuition/mystery that “all will be well.”
Mostly, it served me well.
This was my Facebook post on July 29, 2024 …
“Well ... with the wise words ‘never say never’ ringing in my ears ... and the reassurance that the Spirit continues to surprise ... and after 9 months of retirement/R&R ... I start today on a one year appointment as the lead minister at Bethany United Church in Halifax. Prayers welcome!”
I had many well wishes, as well as one particularly memorable comment from a former colleague on the UCC Committee on Theology and Inter-church and Inter-faith Relations:
“There are far worse things than failing at retirement! Blessings on your journey.”
Indeed, I am always reminded of something I read many years ago …
“If you want to make God laugh … tell her your plans.”
This week marks three months since I started at Bethany. I have been welcomed, and affirmed, and have been inspired by your ministry in the community and amongst each other. I have been humbled and awed by my extremely gifted and forgiving colleagues who have answered my many questions patiently and are always ready to hear my own ideas.
I have been blessed with many conversations, with individuals and in group settings. I continue to learn and ponder how my gifts and experience can be best served in this community during my time here. I welcome your comments and suggestions.
I hope many of you can join us this Sunday at 10:30, when we celebrate Bethany’s anniversary, and Tim Crooks, Executive Director of Phoenix House is the guest preacher.
At 3 pm, there will be a Covenanting Service between myself, Bethany United Church and Bermuda-Nova Scotia Regional Council to officially mark my appointment as the supply minister until next July.
Next week, Pat and are are driving to Ontario to visit our daughter and her spouse who have just bought a house in St. Thomas. I may post a few pictures, but won’t promise much more until after my return on November 7.
