Flurry of busyness

Yeah, I know; it’s December. But I’m not talking about shopping.

I’ve spent three nights, in the past week, sleeping over at my church. We’ve been hosting members of the Safe Ground community—homeless people in Sacramento who are trying both to not freeze this winter, and to overturn the city anti-camping ordinance. Today, I’m meeting with the man who is essentially the group’s chaplain, and a pastor from another church to ask him if that congregation would be willing to host as well. Speaking for myself, I’d do this every night—but it needs to be an ecumenical effort, and we all know that. I could testify all over town about how amazing (and organized!) Safe Ground is, how the neighbors didn’t squawk and the building’s just fine, and how our own community--overnight hosts, cooks, clergy and staff--was fed by hosting them.

I’m also working on getting a project up and running the first week of January. And I was gone for two weeks, critical in retrospect. I was babying a cold for one week, and then I went to the Ranch. I learned as soon as I came back—and slept that night in the Great Hall—that my heart’s work is here, and I can’t leave again for awhile. Not only do I feel guilty for missing too much, but I miss the things that I need to be part of.

I want to be reflective in this space, but right now I just can’t. I’m feeling my own responsibilities heavily, and what I’ve set for myself scares me (though I’m totally committed to doing it, and I know I’ll have help). I’m also agape at the kindom of God.