New Church Boot Camp

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