These are my last days of my last week as pastor of Highland Hills Baptist Church. For the last couple of weeks, the hours have been filled with hugs and ‘well wishes’ and cups of coffee and lunches and laughter and tears. This week, I’m packing…

Everything has been boxed except the books. Procrastination has ruled the day in this realm. I have fifty-six shelves, each shelf measuring forty-eight inches and each holding anywhere from twenty to fifty books – depending on the length of the book. (These are the kinds of things we calculate when procrastinating.) My procrastination has multiple sources:  the sheer number of books, the grief of leaving a space I’ve inhabited for almost fifteen years and, well, laziness. The primary problem, however, is…the books are beckoning me – hundreds of burning bushes inviting me to take off my shoes…peruse a page or two…look for sacred sentences…underlined long ago…

As I slip each book from its resting place, I can’t resist the urge to open and read; passages leap out at me. I remember God’s voice in days past and God seems to speak again…

“I’m beginning to trust that the gods are not going to snatch my firstborn if I happen to enjoy my life.” Frances Mayes, Under the Tuscan Sun

“…music is vibration, a disturbance in the air.” Glenn Krutz, Practicing: A Musician’s Return to Music

“I used to think, ‘Life is great, but people suck,’ but now I’ve had to learn the opposite, ‘Life sucks, but people are great.” Neil Peart, Ghost Rider: Travels on the Healing Road

“One day you finally knew what you had to do and began…” Mary Oliver, ‘The Journey,’ Dream Work

I’ve got three boxes filled. Approximately fifty boxes more to go. Two days to finish. I think I’ll make it…

I like it when God wants to chat…

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