It is possible.
A couple weeks ago our family was driving up to Bay Lake Camp for a weekend retreat with other folks from our home congregation/neighborhood. I was in terrible mood. Tired and angry and frustrated about a number of things. In fact at one point I actually pulled over and got out of the car to let Jodi drive ’cause I was in no place to be behind the wheel. I even asked Jodi, “Why are we even going this weekend?” (Other than the obvious: It’s the congregation she pastors) Her response? “It’s transformative.”
That woman. She’s always right.
We drove out to the island. Driving on ice will never be normal for me. We unloaded. I laid down. I even slept a little bit – a relatively new thing for me. I mean, sleeping during the day. I think it’s called napping.
When I finally dragged my bitter self into the community space and took on the taco bar I wasn’t quite ready for people. But it was that or not eat tacos. And I would sooner drive on ice than not eat tacos.
This would be a nice place to say, “And then everything changed.” And in fact I was hoping someone would flip the switch and I’d be a happy camper. But it wasn’t. All the same I stuck with the community. We turned in our cell phones. We played games. We froze. And we went to bed. And I was only slightly less cranky.
Mid morning day two I went for a walk with a few friends. We headed to the site of the Island Folk School. It may be my favorite place on earth. Which works out well because I plan on retiring there.
On the hike back I was asking my friend Chris how she manages to always be so giving and hospitable. (The sorts of things at the heart of my stress and bitterness.) She shared a number of insights but the big one for me was surrounding ones self with people who see possibility.
That’s when things changed for me. That’s when I realized I was hiking back to a lodge full of people that saw possibility. They were part of a scrappy podunk congregation because they saw possibility. They believe in a God of possibility not prosperity. Of hope not outcome. Possibility not perfection. You and I get to be a part of that possibility. We are possibility.
It’s possible that I’m bordering on motivational speaker here. In which case: Buy my book!
Or receive my thanks: I’m grateful for you, because you keep my vocation a possibility. I hope I can do the same for you. Thank you.