It Keeps Getting Worse
A little thing about faith
Five years ago today I was ordained to the priesthood. By almost any measure my life is worse now.
I don’t say this to inspire pity or worry. I’m okay, mostly. But when I look back to life in December 2013 things were a lot better. To start I was living in Miami, I had two beautiful daughters, and had just started a new position at a magificent cathedral on the shore of the Biscayne Bay. Our spunky but adorable dog Baxter was the cutest (and loudest) dog in the neighborhood. I was picking up my parents and both grandfathers at the airport for a tropical Christmas in Miami, punctuated by my Ordination on the Feast of St. Thomas the Apostle, long my favorite of Jesus’ followers.
Five years later my parents are dead. Both grandfathers are dead. My second daughter is dead as well. Even the dog is dead. I’m 30 or 40 lbs heavier than those halcyon days. I make less money. And now I serve an historic but aging church in Downtown Baltimore. This would not count as worldly success.
In truth, I’ve always had trouble with my ordination anniversary. Audrey Grace, our second daughter, was in the Cardiac Intensive Care Unit that day (she had been since her birth a few months before) and died less than two weeks after. In fact, if you ever see photos from my ordination the room is pretty empty because I never really had time to send out invitations.
We actually first learned about Audrey’s heart complications the day before my ordination to the diaconate (In the Episcopal Church all priests are first ordained deacons before they can be ordained to the priesthood) which means that most all of my ordained ministry has carried with it a measure of sadness and loss.
I reflect on this because five years is usually a time to reflect back and see how far one has come, how much one has accomplished, and to turn and look towards the future to ask ‘what comes next.’ And I admit a certain amount of trepidation looking to God and asking what comes next because it makes me also want to ask ‘WHO is next?’ There certainly have been sometimes when I wished I could turn back. Start over. Or maybe just give up this fools errand of service to the Church and go back to regular non-profit or government work.
But I don’t.
And five years seems like a good time to step back and think about why I don’t give up. Turn around. Start over. Or leave.
And the reason I don’t is because I still believe. I’ve questioned many things over these last few years but I’ve never questioned God’s presence in my life and God’s support for my family. From the thousands of friends and strangers who sent love and support; to the doctor who stopped what he was doing to pray with us in our daughters darkest hour. From the old friend who showed up out of nowhere to walk us through my moms death; to the respite of hilarity and craziness that was my grandfathers coin collection. From the book of short stories I picked up at an airport that reminded me of the high rate of divorce among parents who have lost a child (and thus drew Monica and I back together); to the third child who came along years later oblivious to everything but the joy of living. From a congregation in Miami who loved me through the shit; to a congregation in Baltimore that loves me for my shit.
By any worldly measure my life is much much worse. But in God’s eyes my life is rich, full and surrounded by grace. If you have had a season like mine, I hope you find God’s presence and grace in your own life.
