Mountain Climbing

The most dangerous part of mountain climbing is not the climbing up, but the descent. During the descent the ice is looser, the snow softer, and, most critcally, the climbers are tired. The last two days have been a reminder of that truth; the nearly 100-degree weather, of course, not helping :) I've had a buzz of chaos around me: the keys, the missing moving van (who will show up, they assure me, on the 29th), and various little things such as leaving my purchases behind at the hardware store. Then today, while on the phone with Steve Hines, the pickup in front of me lost control -- because he was reaching for his cell phone. He swerved across the highway, hit the concrete wall, bounced back across the highway and into the other wall. I pulled over in front of him and called 911. The truck was totaled, but inspite of that (and inspite of the 2x4s that went through the back of his cab window), he crawled out the passenger window and was just fine. I helped him to walk away from the car (something was dripping on the ground -- my B-movie instincts thought "Gasoline!", though it was probably windshield wiper fluid). An ambulance that was driving by pulled over within seconds of the accident, followed by the fire department and police. I drove off after talking with the police, but still shaken even now by the rembered images of the accident. Prayers tonight for Joe and for a swift recovery.

Given the heat and chaos, then, I am so thankful that some time was built in between my arrival to Massachusetts and when I begin serving at Messiah. I need to rediscover that center in me, so that I can be present to the prayers and stories and music and community. I'm impatient to start, but so glad to be unpacking and sleeping...

Jibran, our cat, has his own approach to avoiding the chaos and fatigue of transition: in a new environment, he hides under the bed for a few days! That is in fact what Jibran is doing right now, hiding under the futon. I went and picked him up last night. He had been living with Michael, a bass player who rented the upstairs floor in my cousin's house. Michael wasn't home when I came to pick Jibran up, but his girlfriend was there. He was whisked off into his cage, and as we got ready to leave, she began crying. Which says something about Jibran's ability to charm his way into people's hearts. Iza had been afraid that if Jibran stayed with someone while I was travelling, they wouldn't give him back. She was nearly right!

It's hardly all chaos and missing moving vans, though. Some wonderful highlights to the last two days, including meeting with Paul West and getting the keys to the church -- and seeing my name listed on the sign outside, The Rev. Devin McLachlan. It was even spelled right :) The church is as beautiful as I remember, a space built to help folks pray, without distractions or clutter. There are ideas and projects and brainstorms that rush to me when I walk through the grounds. I'm going to get a notebook and keep track of them on paper -- better to write them down and let them mature, than to blurt out every idea and sound as if I threaten to turn the parish upside-down! But I am excited, and I am looking forward to the work to come.