I never watch as much sports coverage as I do when I am at my father's house. ESPN is always on. Baseball is Daddy's present obsession. The season is hot and the Yankees are spotty. His blood pressure is high. There is no mistaking the cause. It is Sunday and I'm preparing to go to church, but it is clear to me that the religion here is baseball.
There is no sadness or shame in this realization. If I could stay home and watch the finals at Wimbledon, I would. But I am called to do other things today. I am off to Church of The Holy Comforter in Richmond, VA. Martha Buford is the music director there and an old friend. Then I am off to Shrinemont in Orkney Springs, VA to participate in Family Camp.
Yes, I am going to camp. Fortunately, this camp comes with wrap-around porches.
Listening As An Act of Love is the title of my five-day program. I am responsible for providing something for the adults each morning. I have been taking my PhD research and reworking it for different contexts. I've presented at a conference and written an essay. I've preached it. I've offered a 45-minute lecture. Now, let's see if it serves as a spiritual retreat. Of course, to do this right, I am calling on some help. Ana Hernandez will be with us on Tuesday. If I could call on more friends, I would.
These projects, I am learning, are never solo acts. And let's get real, no solo act is a solo act.
We never really work alone.