monday after mountaintop

Last week I went on my first-ever mission trip. I don't know what I expected, and even now I'm not sure what happened. But there was movement, and I am sure of one thing; it was good. It was good to get away with kids, it was good to live in community for a week again, it was good to serve.

As I sit at my keyboard on this Monday, everything seems dingy somehow, and yet it is good to be back to the day to day.

This trip was a transition point in my life. Pastor Greg quipped, "Somehow, you'll get on the bus as the leader, and you'll get off the bus she will be the leader." Amy is the new youth director who is just here from Indiana. I have been praying for her since January, not always knowing who she is, but simply knowing that she was needed. I don't know if I thought the transition would be hard or easy, especially since a large part of me didn't really want to leave, but at this point it just is, and God is in the feeling I have when I see her responding to kids' posts on Facebook, or laughing with kids. God is in the comfort I feel in her strong leadership and desire to engage these kids. This is just what I wanted, and yet somehow it feels empty right now. I knew this would come, and God is in that emptiness, and I am glad for the year, glad at the changes in me, glad at the changes in my marriage.

My joy seems somehow more concrete. I can't help thinking that I'm ready for something, but I'm not quite sure what. I just presented at a spirituality conference this Saturday, and I learned things there that I haven't really thought about. Perhaps this is my new frontier in spirituality, one that goes outside the bricks and mortar church to a different kind of temple. Perhaps this will be my walking stick that helps me stand through the throws of going back to "secular" work. Scared and excited all at once, I am in a time of waiting and wondering--a good time for writing dissertation and breathing a little more slowly.

God has provided friends this year, friends that I didn't have before, but who are shaping my identity in new ways. Ashleigh Lang-Peterson, Amy Wagner, Kelly Kingsley, Sara Spohr--all probably don't know the impact they have had on my tiny life.

I am thankful for seasons, and thankful for the small tears that form whenever change comes and we sit around watching slide shows with sappy music. When we look back just briefly before taking that next step. There were multiple times on this trip where I seemed to be sitting in a pool of grace, when answers to prayers were so obvious that I couldn't do anything but dwell in the movement of the spirit. I sat at a concert with two young women and laughed. These two have been a struggle for me all year, and there we were giggling. In our final prayer circle Thursday night, we "dapped," which is a form of prayer (I think made up in our own youth group) where you place one fist on top of the person's fist next to you in a circle. When the prayer gets to you, you can pray aloud or dap by tapping the fist on your right to move it on to the next person. Typically, my out-loud prayers are prolific, and I never pass up a chance to contribute. For the first time I can remember, I dapped after hearing the harmony of prayers from my kids and their new youth director. It was good to be there and good to not be needed somehow.

Following our prayer, I didn't stay up for late night conversations, I skirted back to my room. Light from the round full moon streamed over me as I lay back on my almost empty air mattress. Usually Psalm 23 is the stuff of funerals, but as my fingers turned the gold-edged pages to this comforting "home" in the Bible, I couldn't help knowing that I was not alone, and that change is good, and that some things never change.

Psalm 23

A psalm of David.

¹ The Lord is my shepherd;
I have all that I need.
² He lets me rest in green meadows;
he leads me beside peaceful streams.
³ He renews my strength.
He guides me along right paths,
bringing honor to his name.
⁴ Even when I walk
through the darkest valley,^[a]
I will not be afraid,
for you are close beside me.
Your rod and your staff
protect and comfort me.
⁵ You prepare a feast for me
in the presence of my enemies.
You honor me by anointing my head with oil.
My cup overflows with blessings.
⁶ Surely your goodness and unfailing love will pursue me
all the days of my life,
and I will live in the house of the Lord
forever.