tidings of comfort and joy

Some background music for you:



Church is so important and so personal for me. It's been a really fun and interesting few years of exploring many different churches, but the truth is: I came into this season with a heavy heart.

This year has been marked with a deep sense of loss after finding that I needed to move on from both the church I grew up in and my other church home, my camp. I'm grateful for many years of many good things from both beautiful places, but find myself heartbroken and feeling homeless.

That's not to say I don't love Bayou Blue-- I love my little rural church very much, for many reasons. I also love Louisiana and New Orleans and bayou land and wetlands and trees and grasses and mucky soils, but that doesn't quite make it home. You know?

So, speaking of home. I landed in Newark last Wednesday. I am so, so, so happy to be in New Jersey (you don't know how beautiful Newark Airport and Elizabeth Seaport look until you're feeling so far away from home on so many levels, although the fresh blanket of snow and the glorious view of the Manhattan skyline complete with Freedom Tower didn't hurt, either). This may come as a shock, but I've kept pretty busy. I had a long-overdue nerve block, and after a few hours of rest, a 245ish mile roadtrip on Friday, time with Mike's family on Saturday, and another trip up north Sunday into Monday to accomplish holiday baking and soil expedition.

Not going to church right now isn't really an option in my book. Not only are we strongly encouraged to attend worship regularly as employees of the church through YAV, but I'm at a place on my own journey that requires constant attention. My solution this past Sunday was to attend worship at the church I was baptized in up in Montclair. It worked out very well-- I was welcomed very warmly as soon as it was mentioned that I'm a Spain, and my great aunt was there. It was especially good to be with her, as it was the first anniversary of Uncle Fred's passing. We went to a Christmas hymn sing before church together, where the carol "God Rest Ye Merry Gentlemen" stuck out at me because of the tidings of comfort and joy part.

What am I taking comfort in right now? I am blessed beyond measure. I have an awesome family and am marrying into one equally as great. I have incredible friends. I have work that I enjoy. I have amazing adventures to places I never imagined I'd see. I have good health, now greatly improved by that nerve block and getting off the high dose of pain medicine that has fogged my brain for the past seven months.

My brain might be clear of tramadol but is definitely bogged down by something else. Being a sort of gypsy is exciting and fun in many ways, but I do miss having a home. There are no easy answers with this stuff, and I didn't have a good solution for tonight, so I went to the church I grew up in. I was thankful that a few of my friends were attending the late service, which made it a little less painful to sit out of choir for the first time in at least 20 years. I stopped by the choir room to visit and say hello to old friends, who voted by cheering that I get a robe and join them, but I couldn't do it. I needed a little distance. Funny, how I'm feeling sad because I feel so far away, and yet I need some separation too.



I love the themes of Advent. Hope, Peace, Joy, Love. While I'm not feeling especially peaceful this Christmas, I am definitely grateful for the many ways that the others manifest themselves in my life. Reuniting with loved ones. Remembering my way all over NJ. Walking without limping. Soil expeditions. Planning another epic Christmas dinner (creole deep fried turkey being the centerpiece). Gearing up for more adventures-- Utah and Arizona in the next week, New Jersey again in February, and of course all over South Louisiana.

I have great hopes that all of these things will settle out in time. It's just a heavy weight to carry meanwhile.

Wishing you a very happy, hopeful, peaceful, joyful and loving Christmas.