Today is moving day. The “experiment” is becoming more permanent. The parish I attend has “confirmed my vocation” (if that is right) and I am testing my calling to the solitary life in a house provided by the parish. The parish has renamed the house “The Anchorage” and I am to be prayed for this Sunday.
It feels completely weird to be affirmed in that way. It is a way out vocation that few even know about in the modern church. But a vocation that is fostered and encouraged by the leadership of the parish, especially the clergy. And, to make this even weirder, in a parish that some consider to be charismatic.
Yet a parish that is an example of the church of tomorrow – no churchman allegiances or partisan politics. A parish in which the sign of the cross is as much at home as the raising of hands in prayer. A parish that is not huge (yet) but strong in Jesus. I am constantly amazed at how God works in these people. It makes me feel humbled that I can be part of it in a very small way.
So I am packing up my books, going to pick up some furniture, and then packing the car and moving.