Historically, I’ve at least felt comfortable in my land. Even when arguing politics, usually handshakes would occur with the possibility of a hug. At least some type of closing honoring of each of us. I’ve been travelling through this land feeling not quite at home, arriving being strained. There’s a sweetness missing, replaced with anxiety and at times polarities not choosing to meet. I want sweetness back. You know, where there’s an ease between folks who long to play and care, yet feel tinges of fear unclear how to share.
I’m writing this blog from rural Virginia where I’m visiting friends of 51 years. Yesterday, we visited a small winery run by a couple, he’s an Endodontist and she with a doctorate in statistics. They fell in love with wine, opening a tasting room in a 19th century log cabin. Over their delicious wines, Bruce and I playfully bantered as the wife said we were like an old couple in love.
We play easily with opened hearts and minds, with a gentle mix of gentle quiet and banter. We’ve gone through divorces, health care crises, children’s joys and sorrows and society’s challenges. This morning Bruce, a recently retired Minister, was invited to lead a service not far from that Winery. I don’t as a rule care for Protestant services, yet I found myself smiling and at times tearing up from his inclusive invitation to worship.
He played with the children reading letters from the hearts of children to their Pastors and brought the congregation together through political differences to meeting of the hearts. And I was invited to move to the area, returning to the Methodist Church. I felt an arriving, not being a Christian, yet the sweetness was felt in the hearts of me and many of the congregation. Let’s give us this gift and share with one another.
