Temporary Shepherds

I went from ice storm to spring sunshine as I flew to Atlanta, Georgia where I took the interim pastor training. In our denomination, those interim pastors fill the gap between two installed pastors, allowing a congregation to heal after a conflict, or go through a mourning process when a long-time beloved pastor leaves or retires. The next installed pastor then will start his or her work on healed ground.

The Calvin Center, where the training took place is located at 25 miles from Atlanta, under the trees and next to a small lake. The food was scrumptious, with gourmet entrées at every meals – prepared by a Chef, a talented man from New Zealand who used to work in a local restaurant. Brian was his name and he received praises daily from the 36 trainees.

We had rain on the first day (they said I had brought Seattle weather!) then sunshine came back. Walking around the lake was wonderful between two workshops.

The Atlanta Airport is also a scenic place and a place to stretch your legs after a 5 hours flight. A little train is available to go from and to the gate but I preferred walking. This allowed me to admire an exhibition of sculptures from Zimbabwe artists.

There was a 3-hours difference between Atlanta and Seattle. No big deal for this traveler used to deal with 9 hours jet lag. Yet the next day, a Saturday, I woke with the typical exhaustion: everything, including walking around, was exhausting. My arms felt too heavy for my shoulders. I was supposed to get ready for preaching on Sunday…. Fortunately, I had written most of the sermon during the flight back the day before. Smart move…

The Day the Icicles Ruled

Each storm has its own way to transform the daily lives of whoever meets its path. We were used to face guts of winds and abundant showers. This time, the real disruption arrived silently, discreetly after the snow.

For 12 hours, a relentless freezing rain fell. Every surface got coated with ice. Ice is heavy… The branches of the trees started to lean then broke, taking with them cables and phone lines along the roads.

On the morning of the 19th, we lost power for the second time. We were not the only ones: the radio (powered by batteries) let us know that over 250 000 homes were in the dark too. Teams from California and Oregon were called to assist the exhausted repair teams. The icy roads were treacherous. And our home was getting fresh.  

The puppies were interested by the turn of event: after they experienced their paws sinking deep in the snow, they now were able to walk on the white smooth shell.

The next day, the temperature rose. We were still in the dark but the icy roads were turning into slush. So we went looking for food – and a warm drink. It was 57 in our living room.  Our whole neighborhood was cut off power. Even Walmart or Target were closed. What happened to their generators? After a few miles of traffic jam on Meridian, we reached an opened (and very full) Starbuck. Ah, the joy of a Tall Hot Chocolate with No Whip!

Later that afternoon, the light came back. Our phone line stayed mute for two more days but with our cell phones and our computers back on track, we were ok. Poor Irvin… He spent his birthday in the semi-darkness of the icicles shadows.

Impromptu Wedding

The phone rang early that morning - a woman’s worried voice. I feared the worse (I always do) but fortunately, the perceptible fretfulness did not mean a tragedy had happened. Quite the opposite. “I need to get married today! Would the pastor marry us?”

On this snowy day, the combination of a soon-to-expire license, the gathering of parents, friends and witnesses, as well as the absence of the judge of the Puyallup tribe (due to the weather?) led to this call. But black ice was preventing anyone to go up to the church. This is how the whole party ended two hours later in our living room, surrounding the bride – a tall and strong tattooed Native woman, full of life and humor.

The liturgy was simple and moving. I passed around boxes of Kleenex. “That was really good, said one of the witnesses to Irvin. I am sorry I did not know you before I got married”. I appreciated the command to be a united couple while remaining fully oneself. “Be together and yet respect the sacred places between you.  You are not alike.  Celebrate your individuality.  Be one in purpose, yet two persons”. 

The closing blessing is poetic and inspiring.             

Now for you the North wind does not blow;

You are shelter to one another.

Now for you there is no hunger;

Each brings what the other needs.

Now for you there is no darkness;

You have learned to see with the heart.

Now for you there is no loneliness;

Two have become one.

It was still snowing when the newlyweds and their loved ones left.

This Alien Has American Roots

My baby cousin Younis is going on 4 and since Christmas Eve, he has a baby brother, Adam. Last Saturday, we were invited by his parents, my first cousin Danielle and her husband Imad, to celebrate Adam’s arrival.

Shawn

Every time I have the opportunity to spend time with my American family in Seattle, several side effects occur: long-lasting joyfulness, intellectual stimulation and gleeful taste buds. Danielle and Imad made up delightful children and every time I see them, the happiness surrounding them is infectious.

My cousin Shawn, Danielle’s sister, speaks 3 languages and she travels around the world, part of the micro financing movement that grants loans and study grants to people, allowing them to realize their dreams and change their lives. On Saturday night, I also chatted with their own first cousin Marisol, who is a MD becoming a psychiatrist in Portland.

Marisol

There was an impressive cake welcoming Adam to the world. Is there is a better way to welcome anyone to the world than scrumptious chocolate ganache?

Last September, a small crowd of family and friends gathered to celebrate the 75^th birthday of my uncle Jean-Loup in a French restaurant of Seattle. We all had a great time.

That was a great opportunity to catch up with my cousin Marc, his wife Hannah and their beautiful children Sebastian and Olivia who are growing up so fast. They live in Los Angeles. Danielle and Shawn had prepared a trivia game about their dad, his tastes and pet peeves, his trips and his life. There were fun French prizes for those who had most good answers. I discovered a few things about my uncle – and on the world around us. I never knew foie gras flavored chewing-gum existed for instance… (I did not try it)

This alien is very lucky… 

Younis and Adam

A Murder of Crows Has a Secret Life

Native traditions, from tribes to tribes, often gave a proeminent role to the crow – they use to call it the Trickster. They had spotted its amazing intelligence.

Irvin and I watched a documentary showing two researches teams, one here in the Northwest, the other one in Japan. They found out amazing data. Crows have a rich family life.

The young adults help their parents with the new baby birds. They all communicate by series of clacking sounds. The loud “kraa” we hear are only a cry they use to warn each other of a potential danger. A group of crows living together is called a ‘murder’ of crows.

Their level of intelligence allows them, for instance, to use a small stick to catch a longer one that will be their instrument to reach a piece of food. It can be compared to simians. Rev. Henry Ward Beecher said about them “If men had wings and bore black feathers, few of them would be clever enough to be crows”.

The link below leads to the documentary that can be watched online.       

http://video.pbs.org/video/1621910826/

Waking Up with Mount Rainier

This picture was taken last Wednesday by Christie Galan. Apart from taking gorgeous pictures with her cell phone, Christie is the office manager at First Pres where I did my internship last year and we are “facebook friends”. I know that I will always compare who ever I work with in a church with her smiling Zen efficiency.

When not hidden by an overcast weather, Mount Rainier is so scenic – even after 10 years living in its neighborhood, I am still fascinated…

(Feel free to click on the picture to see it better)

Three Chaplains, One Coyote

An interview with a chaplain is an odd place. Of course, it looks like a job interview – after all, this is about being hired for a paid internship, the very desirable residency starting in September I applied for. But the conversation also comes close to the dialogue one would have with a therapist. The chaplain tries to find out what self-knowledge you have and if you are willing to explore and discern more. When you get into a patient’s room, you should be aware of your own baggage and deep motivation.

On Monday afternoon, I had long conversations with three chaplains of Saint Joseph hospital. Three consecutive interviews later, I was feeling good as I was walking back to my car on the hilltop of Tacoma – almost euphoric. It went well, in a warm, relax atmosphere, I felt appreciated… I was experiencing a prudent sense of optimism. Then I found out that there were only 3 or 4 spots and that St Jo’s students from previous internships would be picked first.

In other words, this is not a done deal. But let’s not get discouraged. Early on the next morning, as I was going to work, a coyote crossed right in front of the car. I did not have time to take a picture but that was a young beautiful animal, with a fluffy tail, just like the picture below. It turned around several times before vanishing in the wood – puzzled maybe (“what, a human around here?”) Irvin smiled when I told him about it. He was taught to respect coyotes. “It’s a good omen” he said. We will see… I will know about the internship sometime in February.

N400

It is time. N400 and I have been considering each other for some years already. Year after year, I make promises… It is time to face the challenge.

N400 is the application for American citizenship. Since 1999, I have been an alien – I just love how sci-fi / galactic that sounds!

First I was an alien student, then I became a legal alien, complete with a green card – this white and fascinating plastic card. If you put it under a lamp, you discern holograms on it. It is valid until 2016 but it is time to do this. 2012 will be my American year.

There are good sensible reasons: I intend to keep living in this country and I may lose my residency status if I stay for a long time in France. The laws about aliens may become more restrictive. But my true motive comes from the presidential elections later in the year. I want to vote.

So I dowloaded N400 and started filling it. Some questions are complex: how many days have I spent abroad since I became a resident? I have to write down the precise date for each trip since 2003.

Have I ever been part of, or associated with any associations, foundations, clubs, society? Well, I am a member of Toastmaster International. Should I mention the Presbyterian church? Neither are that subversive, and at the next line, I deny ever belonging to the Communist Party, any totalitarian party or a terrorist organization.

I also deny being a prostitute, a “habitual drunkard” or having worked or associated with any Nazi groups, military or paramilitary unit, extermination or concentration camp. I never had more than one husband at a time. I never committed any crime – even crimes for which I would not have been arrested. I can without hesitation say “no” to all those questions – and I am not making anyone up. I should have the moral character to be American.

I should also demonstrate through an exam that I have a sufficient knowledge of the constitution of the United States. And if everything goes well, I will take the full oath of allegiance to the United States. I will not lose my French nationality thanks to a convention between the two countries.

2012 is going to be a great year…

2012 – Resolution Day!

My first resolution, in this brand new 2012 year, is to… reconnect with my blog. I was thinking I posted my last message a couple of weeks ago. What, it was three months ago??? Where did Fall 2011 go?

In any case, 2012 is indeed here, and here I am, facing the immense perplexity of a future that can take so many different shapes. On November 2, the committee in preparation for ministry certified me “ready to receive a call”. That means that I went through all the steps to be a pastor, from the theological degree (both from the Institut Protestant de Theologie of Paris, France and Dubuque seminary – an eclectic pairing) to the internships in a church,  (Puyallup First Pres last year) then in a hospital chaplaincy this summer. There was also the psychological evaluation – where I found out I was an extravert – me, an emblematic introvert! And of course I had to pass those ordination exams.

So I am “certified ready”. But the ordination can only take place when I receive a call, either from a church or from a hospital if I become a chaplain. I feel pulled in both directions, which is eventually a good thing: opportunities in the Tacoma area are not that many, so I should get ready for both.

On the pastor side, I will go through the interim pastor training, a weeklong education. In the Presbyterian denomination, an interim pastor always steps in between pastors. The churches in our area have all ministers right now, but they will need an interim pastor one day or another.

And on the chaplain side, I applied for a residency (a yearlong paid internship) that would allow me to complete my training. This residency would start next September. An interview is scheduled in a week.

So here it is. I can’t help wondering if the doors in both directions might actually close before me, while our church situation stays precarious, and our denomination tears itself apart. More than ever, this is the time to keep in mind that we are in God’s hand. God will make the calls and lead in new directions…

To be followed… Meanwile, Happy New Year!