Nigh onto a year later, words. Shortly after that post, I did indeed have to give up my home and would have been homeless had it not been for the graceful heart of my father who took in my 2 little dogs, my antique cat and me. I had to find a home for my 3rd dog because Dad just couldn't accommodate the boy who was pretty darned bark-y. He went into the arms of a woman who has a huge heart for animals, a profound love of dogs particularly, and no other dog to deprive him of primary lappage. We all landed safely. That in itself is a miracle in view of the fact that so many of us have landed in homeless shelters, living in cars (for as long as it was possible to keep them), on the streets.......I lost my car as well, by the way.

Last July into August was a very bleak period of time--no earning prospects outside the yard work and that season winding down--and a desperate sense of failure. My situation differs from the experiences of so many because, at that last critical moment, I had a net to catch me. Many stars have added to my father's already nicely adorned crown.

It took no small effort to begin to regenerate, and that regeneration began when Dad found an opening in a hotel (owned by the same people who own the hotel where he looks) and insisted that I go and apply. I did, and found myself awash in a sea of goodness that has gone a long way to heal the damage done by the circumstances of the ending of my last job and the intervening period of unemployment. Is this the greatest job in the world? If you absolutely love the hotel industry, you bet! If you like people, then it's a pretty good gig, too. If you want to earn enough money to adequately sustain yourself independently, then not so much. What I have found there, that outweighs the goofy hours and low rate of pay, is grace. Graceful people whose primary concern is focused on staff and guests. Graceful people who are sufficiently comfortable with themselves that they are able to truly honor talents, abilities and the effort expended by staff members. Graceful people who have reminded me that I have value, have great gifts to offer, am worthy of respect, and that they respect all these things not just in me but in all the other staff members as well.

Healing comes from odd places and, if one is receptive, at just that most despairing moment when healing seems out of reach; when one is convinced of one's absolute unworthiness. Healing comes from simple kindness, respect, acceptance, recognition of competence. Healing comes, often, out of simple, quiet functions--healing comes at last when the bitter end of one's last rope is rubbing a blister in one's palm. My palm was blistered and bleeding and another hand reached to lift me up again. We toss around, with glib glee, God's presence and saving grace--shallowly and tritely--and wall ourselves away from that presence in our very difficult moments when we think we have it all in hand and believe that we are the authors of our destinies, the masters of our lives able to handle every contingency by ourselves. I have been plopped down on my rump with control over very little, learning graphically and somewhat painfully what relinquishment is. I have learned that I can do a handful of things on my own, and I am learning exactly what I have charge of and what I do not have charge of. My bit is small. God's bit is not. Walking a relinquished life being mindful of the division of labor and allowing course corrections when necessary.

Out of all this, I am at last on the road to seminary. I start school in September, leaving for Chicago on 8/23. This whole process is a vivid example of that I can do and what I cannot do. I can fill out applications, have interviews, fill out more applications, do writing samples, fill out more applications, wait; learn that others are working on my behalf to secure things like housing, wait; learning that what I expected in some of this process may have to be shifted, wait; finding that what I wanted as an optimum situation was what I was getting, give thanks; fill out more applications and questionnaires, wait. There is a pattern here. Do the little things and wait on the will and workings of God. Only through relinquishment can this process play out well. Continuing to wrestle the reins back just messes it up.

Living a relinquished life is apparently an eternal process, life affirming, enriching, fulfilling, and troubling. It means walking hand in hand with a very special friend who talks this walk with anyone who is willing. It means understanding that I belong to God, as do we all, not that I have an exclusive contract--that God does not belong to me.

More will come as I finish my "stuff" here in Denver, winnow through belongings - what to keep and what to jet - saying farewell to family and friends (leaving behind my father and son is no easy thing), to my community of faith and to a host of other folks whose presence has been of great importance. Next steps are to settle into my McCormick student apartment, learn the rhythm of life in seminary, the climate in Chicago (OMG!!! A few minutes ago--on the weather channel--temperature 88 degrees, feels like 96!!!), the pace, the altitude, the taste of the air, the wet country plants. After that---3 years of study, gladness, aggravation, doubt, uncertainty, shared community, learning and heaven knows what else. One of my pups goes with me, one has been claimed my Dad who has simply fallen in love with her sweetness--she reciprocates.

Please be mindful in your own lives and doings about relinquishing. Be mindful of kindness extended to you and be intentional about extending kindness to others. Do not expect anything from the effort. Just do it because it's right and let the result be--out of your hands.