Snow

The first snow fall is coming down in Toronto as I write this. I'm not sure if it will stick on the ground or roads, but I already see, glinting in the moonlight, a little accumulation on roofs and car hoods. A number of people are going to be surprised in the morning. I hope it doesn't stick around, I haven't built a wood cradle nor gotten a delivery of firewood to fill it! Mixed hardwood--save $50 stacking it yourself. I need to remember my leather gloves to avoid splinters--the stuff you learn as you inevitably transform into Middle-Aged-Man.

Still, the snow is comforting. It's quiet in the house--Betsy is asleep in the next room with a kitten curled up near her feet. I'm thinking about when I'm going to have time to get the wood delivered and the last of the apples canned. When did I become so domestic? An old friend (Kim from NJ) sent me pictures of her newborn. I don't know how long Betsy and I will last without one ourselves. We wait because money and time are scarce, but that isn't going to change. A mother I respect, one of my parishioners, told me a year ago, "Tay, there is never a right time." Sigh. The first snow and I get all mushy....

On my mind--a dozen different church programs that I need to get rolling. I need to raise a bunch more money before year end for the church. At the very least we need to finish paying for the Piano and the Mural. Ideas have arisen for various concerts and events, and they are good ideas. But they still require me to make phone calls and expend energy and good will to make happen. And I worry because there there are at least four pastoral visits I should make this week--it seems hard to imagine I'll do it all.

The good news is that I'm not alone. Just today I received promises of help from two very dear and competent people willing to volunteer their professional skills to COTM. Both are well known to me and love me dearly even though I hardly feel that I've earned it from either. One such gift came at the very end of the day. I had just finished meeting with the Daycare Board at around 8:30 PM when I ran into a friend who volunteered, cheerfully, to help with some big events coming up. I was so tired that I could only give a quiet and solemn "thank you." Nothing peppy or exuberant. I recalled words from my detailed pre-ordination psychological profile: "Projects affable and agreeable social facade." Well--I didn't have that to give just then, so I was understated in my relief, promising to myself that I would make it up to her later in a public way. Moments like that remind me that there is something bigger at work in the life of the church than anything I could ever accomplish by wit or charm or even skill. Humbling to do all that you can and realize it's insufficient and find others making up the difference.

And the snow falls silently tonight. Just enough of a dusting to remind people that it's time to stack firewood and finish canning apples.

-t