Waking up in a Strange Place

We were away, just overnight Sunday night, and I must have slept pretty well and deeply, because when I woke up, I had that feeling you get sometimes, "Where am I? How did I get here?" It took a few minutes to orient myself to reality, and to remember the events of the last twenty-four hours, including the worship services, the animal blessing service, the trip up to the City by the Great Lake, the dinner with Earnest Younger Stepson.

Our new organist played beautifully, with passion and proficiency. You really can't explain music, can you? I particularly liked the way he "played latin" on Cantad al Senor.

We all loved the Animal Blessing Service at my husband's church. If you have never heard Bill Staines' song, "All God's Critters Got a Place in the Choir", you have missed something fantastic. Scout liked getting blessed, but she loved meeting and sniffing the dogs more, I think. She's been a little skittish around people the last day or so. We don't know why.

We went home long enough to throw a few things in a bag, and then we headed up to to the Great Lake City, where we delivered a few things to Stepson #2. I didn't look much at leaves because I spent more of the trip up reading our book club book, Giants in the Earth. I'm glad I'm re-reading it; it was far beyond me in high school. But I will say that it is a challenging book for a busy September. It has made me think about courage and community and hardship.

So yesterday morning I felt that "waking up in a strange place" disoriented feeling.

I can't seem to shake it, totally.

No, I really know where I am: that's not it. But I can't get over a strange, disoriented feeling. It's partly the economic news. On the radio on the way home, a talk show host was saying, "If things are so bad, why did I see everybody out to the restaurants, and Home Depot, and grilling in their back yard this weekend, just like nothing was happening? What's that about?"

He had a point. I just have a feeling that there is another shoe left to drop, and I can't quite articulate what it is.

But it's not just the economy. It's a sense of the church, and the spiritual life and health there, where I am a leader, where I am responsible for inspiring people, and helping them to see God in their lives, and equiping them to live grace-ful lives: not just for an hour on Sunday, but every day.

I always thought that this blog would help me with that. I love to write. I need to write.

But, I think I need to take a break.