Well, I'm in the Dallas-Ft. Worth airport, waiting for my flight back to Salt Lake City. I'm exhausted and numb. Tom is staying another day to attend a worship conference but I am ready to be back in Salt Lake.
The conference we've been at since first thing Tuesday morning was sponsored by the North Texas Methodist Conference (the entity that is similar to the Episcopal Diocese). I am learning new Methodist terminology every day. The conference leader is a guy named Jim Griffith, who is not Methodist, but who runs a network of church plant coaches across the spectrum of Christian "tribes" as he calls them. He's a stand-up comic and fabulous preacher and teacher all rolled into one. That was the best part of the past few days.
The worst part was realizing that this new church that Tom has been appointed to has already committed all ten and probably more of the worst mistakes new church start ups commit. Tom melted down yesterday afternoon and I thought he was going to pull the plug. The two lay people from his congregation begged him to not call it quits yet, and after a good night's sleep and breakfast with Jim Griffith this morning, Tom has a better feel for where to go now. Now that he's pulled himself together, I can fall apart.
I've been sitting in the airport for a few hours. I had hoped to catch an earlier flight but nothing was available. I treated myself to a day pass to the Crown Room (after all, it IS my birthday) and so I'm fairly comfortable. I'm sharing an outlet (I believe the Crown Room should have more electrical outlets for all these business travelers) with a gentleman that is headed to Pakistan to sell more bombs. I've heard about all five of his wives, including the one that is divorcing him now, his children ranging in age from 36 to 8, how he broke his ribs trying to play a pick up football game with his 16 year old, and what it's like to be Jewish. This is not the best part of the day.
Tom and I did experience some radical hospitality from a friend that lives in Plano, where the conference has been. Janey is the president of the board of the Episcopal Network for Stewardship, on which I also serve. When I mentioned last week that we were coming to Plano, she offered a guest room in her home. What a treat not to have to stay in the hotel. Janey has a large and wonderful golden retriever named MacKenzie, a guest room that has its own bathroom suite and sitting room, and a pool (we didn't swim but it was nice to know we could). Her home was a true refuge for us after these hard days. She had the wine opened by the time we got done each day, put out goodies to eat, chatted with us if we wanted to debrief, and otherwise let us do whatever we needed to do. Thank you, Janey! You are a true inspiration and model of hospitality and graciousness.
I will regain my humor and composure soon, I promise. In the meantime, pray for me.
An Accidental Clergy Spouse
Thursday, August 20, 2009
Sunday, August 16, 2009
Of chickens and goats
Many days without posting - I've been busy AND out here on the prairie in Colorado, wireless connections are iffy. I think the wind blows the little electrons off course.
Anyway, on Friday night James and I flew to Denver - I'll explain about James another time. Yesterday, Saturday, we spent the whole day driving all over Wellsville looking for a place to rent. Until we find something, Tom is bunking with a couple in his congregation that has a guest house. It's a really neat place - constructed of straw bales and faced with stucco. It's about seven miles out of town, on the prairie. The picture above is the view to the northeast from the front door. It is fun to wake up and watch the pronghorns and rabbits and hawks. The wind might kill me, though.
So, yesterday, one of the houses we looked at was also on the prairie, but only about two miles from town. It was in a small swale and protected from the wind by some old, large russion olive and cttonwood trees. It was an old farmhouse, but newly refinished on the inside. Quite cute. When I walked around to the back, I saw four chickens - free range chickens!! They ran off into the field and I followed them down an overgrown trail, which led to the neighbor's house - about a quarter mile away. There, I was greeted by three large goats, laying on the carport and looking at me with great interest. At first I thought they were big dogs. I talked to them as I walked by, and they got up and followed me down their driveway to the main road and back to the rental house. Very pleasant companions.
This whole new adventure started just before Memorial Day weekend this year. Tom and I were going to spend the holiday weekend building a chicken coop and some raised garden beds in Mickie's backyard. (Mick is my oldest and he and his girlfriend, Amanda, live in the house next door. That's another whole story for another time.) We had done the research, drawn up the plans, figured out the costs, chosen the type of chicks, and everything!
On the Friday of Memorial Day weekend, Tom got a call asking him to consider an appointment to this start-up church. We didn't build a chicken coop or raised beds that weekend. Instead we prayed and talked and made lists of pros and cons and slept on it. On Tuesday, Tom called the powers that be and said he was willing to meet the people in charge. Ten days later, he flew to Colorado, met with everyone, and decided it was something he had to do. I have not seen him so energized in the years I have known him, so how could this be wrong?
Amanda had been talking about getting goats, too. Does Salt Lake City allow goats in residential areas?
So, we won't be renting the house on the prairie with the free range chickens and friendly goats living nearby. The landlord won't allow pets. Go figure. We're still on a search.
Tomorrow Tom and I and two of the lay leaders of the congregation go to Plano Texas (Texas in August!) for a new church start boot camp. Don't know what to expect from that, but I'm keeping an open mind.
Pray for me.
An Accidental Clergy Spouse
Wednesday, August 12, 2009
Emptiness
Third day without Tom in the house. He left a trail of stuff, kinda like a tornado hit the inside of the house, as he was trying to pack what he needs right away in Colorado. I spent some time today trying to organize and clean, but I'm not the best housekeeper in the best of times.
Speaking of tornados, yesterday was the 10th anniversary of the F2 tornado that hit downtown Salt Lake City, causing one death and millions of dollars of damage. It happened at lunch time and I was at a business lunch in the hotel smack dab in the path of the tornado. It truly does sound like a train heading your way. Fortunately, we were in an inside room, away from any windows, so none of us were injured. Many of the injured were cut by flying glass and knocked about by flying objects. My old Girl Scout training kicked in and I started helping triage the injured. Our old friend, Uncle Dan the Fireman, was on the scene very quickly. We saw each other in passing and had a brief visit - very weird feeling to have a normal conversation in the middle of chaos. He gave me a pair of gloves and we headed off in our different directions. I ended up staying with a man that was shocky with a possible spine injury. The hotel staff brought blankets that they had warmed in the ovens so we could keep him warm and we took turns holding his head still until the medical personnel could get him on a stretcher.
All our cars were blocked in the underground parking lot and no one knew when we would be able to get them out. So, I walked to the Diocesan offices and got someone to give me a ride home. What a day.
So, I'll keep trying to tackle the tornado mess here at the house - at least there's no blood or injured people. I'd like to get the bathroom and kitchen cleaned up so that I won't return from New Church Boot Camp next week to something that should be condemned by the health department. Pray for me.
An Accidental Clergy Spouse
Speaking of tornados, yesterday was the 10th anniversary of the F2 tornado that hit downtown Salt Lake City, causing one death and millions of dollars of damage. It happened at lunch time and I was at a business lunch in the hotel smack dab in the path of the tornado. It truly does sound like a train heading your way. Fortunately, we were in an inside room, away from any windows, so none of us were injured. Many of the injured were cut by flying glass and knocked about by flying objects. My old Girl Scout training kicked in and I started helping triage the injured. Our old friend, Uncle Dan the Fireman, was on the scene very quickly. We saw each other in passing and had a brief visit - very weird feeling to have a normal conversation in the middle of chaos. He gave me a pair of gloves and we headed off in our different directions. I ended up staying with a man that was shocky with a possible spine injury. The hotel staff brought blankets that they had warmed in the ovens so we could keep him warm and we took turns holding his head still until the medical personnel could get him on a stretcher.
All our cars were blocked in the underground parking lot and no one knew when we would be able to get them out. So, I walked to the Diocesan offices and got someone to give me a ride home. What a day.
So, I'll keep trying to tackle the tornado mess here at the house - at least there's no blood or injured people. I'd like to get the bathroom and kitchen cleaned up so that I won't return from New Church Boot Camp next week to something that should be condemned by the health department. Pray for me.
An Accidental Clergy Spouse
Tuesday, August 11, 2009
Changes
August is going to be a very strange month. Tom and I both celebrate birthdays toward the end of the month, and we won't be together. Or, rather I should say, we'll sort of be together for my birthday but not his.
When Tom accepted the appointment to this church, he also committed to attending a new church start up boot camp in Plano Texas. Did I mention his new church is a start up? I didn't know Methodists were into that sort of thing. So, on August 17 he and I and two of his lay members will jet down to Plano Texas (Texas in August!?!)for three days of, what? Marching and kp duty and sleeping on cots? I really don't know what to expect of a church boot camp.
Tom was telling people that my attendance as the clergy spouse is free! I guess having the clergy spouse there for the induction is very important. I thought he told his new church they weren't hiring me!
However, it's not really free. I get to give up my birthday and the opportunity to take Richard, my youngest son, to Cedar City to start at Southern Utah University, and three of my very precious vacation days. Richard did his own college tours last spring and wouldn't let me go with him! So you can see that I am really giving up a lot not being able to drive him to school. I am determined to be gracious at boot camp, however.
Richard is funny. He's my academic child. When Mick, his older brother, was in first grade and trying to do math papers at home, 3-yr old Richard would hang over his shoulder and tell him the answers. He really had no academic trouble all the way through school. We should have paid more attention to his other characteristics, I guess. He "attended" SLCC (pronounced Slick and formally known as the Salt Lake Community College) for 3 semesters after high school, but was more excited about living on his own and partying than going to class. One evening he was wrestling with some buddies late at night and dove head first into a hard arm of a futon and busted out one front tooth and the one next to it. Well, he's paying for the numerous procedures to repair the damage himself, so perhaps he won't do that again.
I don't know, though. When Richard was about 10, he did a flip off the diving board and hit his teeth on the end of the board and broke off half of both front teeth. (I told him he could at least have broken the same teeth in this latest episode - but no.) How in the world do you hit the board and break teeth and not get another scratch on you? He must have been smiling really big. The reason he was doing flips into the pool is because he had previously done a flip off the jungle gym in our backyard into a pile of leaves - landing on his back and scaring everyone, including himself. I had suggested he try those stunts into something softer.
Then there was the incident when he was about five when he kept asking for items while I was trying to put dinner together - some string, an old sheet, a fingernail brush. Our friend Jenny finally asked him what he was planning to do with all these things, and he responded that he was building a parachute. When she suggested it wouldn't really work, he became offended and said he was only planning to jump from the roof.
And before that, there was the time when he was about 18 months old and was using a desk chair as a walking aid (he didn't think he could walk yet) and he pushed it over to the edge of the backyard deck, climbed onto the chair and onto the rail and made a flying leap into the backyard. This while six adults just sat there and watched agape (his mom included).
So anyway, Rich has decided he is well and truly ready for college and his dad will take him down there on Sunday. I plan to go down the following weekend, after my boot camp experience, to bring anything he may have forgotten to bring - after all it will be him and his father trying to get him packed up, and to have him show me around campus.
August is going to be very strange. Pray for me.
An Accidental Clergy Spouse
When Tom accepted the appointment to this church, he also committed to attending a new church start up boot camp in Plano Texas. Did I mention his new church is a start up? I didn't know Methodists were into that sort of thing. So, on August 17 he and I and two of his lay members will jet down to Plano Texas (Texas in August!?!)for three days of, what? Marching and kp duty and sleeping on cots? I really don't know what to expect of a church boot camp.
Tom was telling people that my attendance as the clergy spouse is free! I guess having the clergy spouse there for the induction is very important. I thought he told his new church they weren't hiring me!
However, it's not really free. I get to give up my birthday and the opportunity to take Richard, my youngest son, to Cedar City to start at Southern Utah University, and three of my very precious vacation days. Richard did his own college tours last spring and wouldn't let me go with him! So you can see that I am really giving up a lot not being able to drive him to school. I am determined to be gracious at boot camp, however.
Richard is funny. He's my academic child. When Mick, his older brother, was in first grade and trying to do math papers at home, 3-yr old Richard would hang over his shoulder and tell him the answers. He really had no academic trouble all the way through school. We should have paid more attention to his other characteristics, I guess. He "attended" SLCC (pronounced Slick and formally known as the Salt Lake Community College) for 3 semesters after high school, but was more excited about living on his own and partying than going to class. One evening he was wrestling with some buddies late at night and dove head first into a hard arm of a futon and busted out one front tooth and the one next to it. Well, he's paying for the numerous procedures to repair the damage himself, so perhaps he won't do that again.
I don't know, though. When Richard was about 10, he did a flip off the diving board and hit his teeth on the end of the board and broke off half of both front teeth. (I told him he could at least have broken the same teeth in this latest episode - but no.) How in the world do you hit the board and break teeth and not get another scratch on you? He must have been smiling really big. The reason he was doing flips into the pool is because he had previously done a flip off the jungle gym in our backyard into a pile of leaves - landing on his back and scaring everyone, including himself. I had suggested he try those stunts into something softer.
Then there was the incident when he was about five when he kept asking for items while I was trying to put dinner together - some string, an old sheet, a fingernail brush. Our friend Jenny finally asked him what he was planning to do with all these things, and he responded that he was building a parachute. When she suggested it wouldn't really work, he became offended and said he was only planning to jump from the roof.
And before that, there was the time when he was about 18 months old and was using a desk chair as a walking aid (he didn't think he could walk yet) and he pushed it over to the edge of the backyard deck, climbed onto the chair and onto the rail and made a flying leap into the backyard. This while six adults just sat there and watched agape (his mom included).
So anyway, Rich has decided he is well and truly ready for college and his dad will take him down there on Sunday. I plan to go down the following weekend, after my boot camp experience, to bring anything he may have forgotten to bring - after all it will be him and his father trying to get him packed up, and to have him show me around campus.
August is going to be very strange. Pray for me.
An Accidental Clergy Spouse
Monday, August 10, 2009
On the Road to Wellsville
Saturday morning, August 8, 2009, we headed out at 10am, pretty close to our preferred 6am start time. Reminds me of the time I visited my grandfather in Arizona to take him on a road trip. My grandmother Bess had died a few months earlier, and as the oldest grandchild I decided I wanted to get my grandfather, Buster, to show me the places he lived as a child, and later as a husband and father.
I flew into Phoenix, arriving at his house at about 2am. He was waiting up for me with a freshly baked blueberry pie. As we ate it, he decided we would leave on our odyssey at 8am the next morning.
But Grandpa, I said, it's very late and I'd rather sleep in a bit.
At 8am the next morning, the door to my room opened and he said in his loudest voice, Some people sure do sleep late!
I rolled over, groaned, and told him I'd be up in a minute. We had breakfast - bacon, eggs, Tang, and Sanka - and then loaded the car. Before we could start out, we had to go buy some feed to put out for Grandpa's quail. We visited for awhile with the nice young clerk at the feed store, made our purchase and drove home. Then we had to discuss where to put the seed blocks. Quail are ground feeders, as you know, but the pigeons that walk around on his roof are a real nuisance and he likes to throw pebbles at them. Grandma and Grandpa's yard is gravel, with cactus and palm trees, just like all his neighbors in Sun City.
After I watched Grandpa chase off several pigeons, he decided we should notify the Sheriff's Posse (volunteers that police the neighborhood) that he would be absent for a week. We drove over to the Posse post, but discovered Grandpa had left the postcard at home. We drove home, searched the dining room to find the postcard, and returned to the post. They weren't open until 10am, however, so we debated whether to slide it under the door or come back later.
I think we finally got underway at about 11am that day. But that's another story.
My name is Toni Marie and I am married to a Methodist pastor. Tom was retired from parish ministry when I met him - working as a hospital chaplain and pastoral counselor. I am a lifelong Episcopalian and we have a mixed marriage. He really likes attending the Episcopal Church and I joke that he is an Episcopal wannabe. His response is that the Methodists got it right.
After we had been together for a few years, Tom was called to be the part-time pastor at a local Methodist church close to where we live in Salt Lake City. His new congregation was wonderful - they didn't mind that I divided attendance between my own church and his. Not too hard to be a clergy spouse, I thought. After 4 short and wonderful years of that, however, earlier this summer Tom was asked to consider appointment to a start-up church in Colorado. What a wonderful opportunity! He was so energized even thinking about it. So the adventure begins. On Saturday we drove him to his new post, and I am now back in Salt Lake City for awhile until I can get myself organized to move to be with him. Fortunately, it's only a 6 hour drive. Pray for me.
The Accidental Clergy Spouse
I flew into Phoenix, arriving at his house at about 2am. He was waiting up for me with a freshly baked blueberry pie. As we ate it, he decided we would leave on our odyssey at 8am the next morning.
But Grandpa, I said, it's very late and I'd rather sleep in a bit.
At 8am the next morning, the door to my room opened and he said in his loudest voice, Some people sure do sleep late!
I rolled over, groaned, and told him I'd be up in a minute. We had breakfast - bacon, eggs, Tang, and Sanka - and then loaded the car. Before we could start out, we had to go buy some feed to put out for Grandpa's quail. We visited for awhile with the nice young clerk at the feed store, made our purchase and drove home. Then we had to discuss where to put the seed blocks. Quail are ground feeders, as you know, but the pigeons that walk around on his roof are a real nuisance and he likes to throw pebbles at them. Grandma and Grandpa's yard is gravel, with cactus and palm trees, just like all his neighbors in Sun City.
After I watched Grandpa chase off several pigeons, he decided we should notify the Sheriff's Posse (volunteers that police the neighborhood) that he would be absent for a week. We drove over to the Posse post, but discovered Grandpa had left the postcard at home. We drove home, searched the dining room to find the postcard, and returned to the post. They weren't open until 10am, however, so we debated whether to slide it under the door or come back later.
I think we finally got underway at about 11am that day. But that's another story.
My name is Toni Marie and I am married to a Methodist pastor. Tom was retired from parish ministry when I met him - working as a hospital chaplain and pastoral counselor. I am a lifelong Episcopalian and we have a mixed marriage. He really likes attending the Episcopal Church and I joke that he is an Episcopal wannabe. His response is that the Methodists got it right.
After we had been together for a few years, Tom was called to be the part-time pastor at a local Methodist church close to where we live in Salt Lake City. His new congregation was wonderful - they didn't mind that I divided attendance between my own church and his. Not too hard to be a clergy spouse, I thought. After 4 short and wonderful years of that, however, earlier this summer Tom was asked to consider appointment to a start-up church in Colorado. What a wonderful opportunity! He was so energized even thinking about it. So the adventure begins. On Saturday we drove him to his new post, and I am now back in Salt Lake City for awhile until I can get myself organized to move to be with him. Fortunately, it's only a 6 hour drive. Pray for me.
The Accidental Clergy Spouse
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