growing up.

24 Apr
A woman at the assisted living facility in Dawson requested a communion visit so after a local pastors’ meeting on Thursday, I made my way to Prairie Meadows, my communion kit in hand. I know I’ve mentioned before how much I enjoy spending time with people at the assisted living/care center in Dawson; this woman is no exception. This particular day she paid me compliment after compliment, telling me that she thought the meditation I wrote for the Dawson paper was so great that she just had to cut it out and save it. For cute. But me feeling good about myself was not the object of the visit. She was so appreciative of the time taken, for communion, and we just had a lovely conversation about how wonderful the people of Grace are.
After our visit, she invited me out to the dining area for coffee. Coffee and bars of course. We joined another woman enjoying her mid-afternoon lunch. (This is turning into a really long story for a small point. Stay with me.) In describing someone else, the other woman we were sitting with said, “She was a teacher when she was growing up.” Not “she was a teacher as an adult.” Not “when she grew up, she taught school” but “she was a teacher when she was growing up.”
Probably not an intentional statement but it struck me. I hope people say that about me – “She was a pastor when she was growing up.” I love the idea of not being a pastor when I’m grown up because I love the idea of not growing up – I’m not ready to be grown up. I realize that responsibilities will still increase, bills grow in number and I’ve been told life will only grow more busy – but I still hope to always be in the process of growing up. I know I still have a lot of growing up to do and it will never be complete – but nor do I want it to be complete. Being a grown-up sounds stuffy … so let’s not go there.

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