Lack of new content is the death knell for a blog. If so, then this blog is in trouble. I have not posted since March 4th of this year.
On November 4, 1992, Queen Elizabeth II gave a speech on the 40th anniversary of her Accession as Queen of England and “the Commonwealth Realms.” The speech immediately became famous for the Queen’s use of the phrase annus horribilis (horrible year in Latin) to describe 1992. 1992 had not been a good year for the Queen or for the Royal Family. Multiple tales of infidelity in the marriage of Prince Charles and Princess Diana splashed all over the media. The Queen’s daughter, Princess Anne, divorced her husband. The Queen’s son, Prince Andrew, separated from his wife. Then, four days before the Queen’s speech, a fire broke out in Windsor Castle and burned historic sections of the castle.
While I wouldn’t use the term annus horribilis, I would say these past months have been extremely challenging for me and my family. My mother died on November 3, 2018, of Alzheimer’s Disease. She was 78 years old. Ten days after my mother died, my husband had a significant, unexpected job change. On July 20 of this year, we buried my mother’s ashes in Lakeview Cemetery in Ludington, Michigan, and held a memorial service for her at the Epworth Heights Assembly. A valued, long-time friend of the family died the evening of July 20th.
And then there’s the United Methodist Church (UMC). The anticipation, execution, and aftermath of the Special Session of the General Conference have caused great anxiety, to say the least. To say that my story of faith is deeply interwoven with the United Methodist Church would be a massive understatement. I met Jesus in the context of the United Methodist Church. I was born, baptized, confirmed, married, called to ministry, and ordained for ministry in the United Methodist Church. I said goodbye to my mother supported by the prayers and love of United Methodist pastors and United Methodist lay folk. My family and my husband’s family have been Methodist for generations.
To be honest, some days I have felt like I got a super-sized portion of conflict that I didn’t order. According to Morgan Spurlock’s 2004 documentary Super Size Me, you’re not supposed to get a super-sized portion unless asked if you want it.
Good thing we serve a super-sized God.
