Lost and Found

The first Monday in April should not look this way. Throughout Southern New England snow has been falling steadily since early morning. It snowed a bit yesterday as well. Driving along School Street, it was hard to tell the early blossoming trees from their snow clad neighbors. Easter was very early this year, so my sense of temporal dislocation is acute. What next? Halloween? Valentine’s Day or Lilac Day at the Arboretum? I am ready for Spring.

In any case, this is my second entry. The plan is to write every day and gradually work up to the important stuff. Preaching every week I had the rhythm of text and study, writing and a deadline. But since retirement, journal keeping has been spotty and often poorly written and never edited. I tried a couple of chronicles which I shaped and wrote carefully and which no one saw. So, a path toward a new writing practice will be the first finding.

Much was lost when I left ministry. . .profession, role, identity, friends and colleagues. Moving into the role of caregiver was much more difficult than I ever anticipated. Leaving Connecticut for this new place in Massachusetts was immensely hard. After seven years it still feels like exile.

How do I sing the Holy Song in a strange land? 

Then, there is aging and the slow loss of good health. Early on, I put a sign on the fridge : Resist entrophy!  The sign disappeared a few years ago, one more thing lost. Maybe tomorrow I can begin to reflect on what has been found.

Someone may read these entries or maybe not. It will depend on how much courage I can summon.