The weather is changing – you can feel it in the air. In the past few days we’ve experienced sunshine, wind, torrential rain, and sunshine again in rapid succession. This past Sunday, as part of our Season of Creation, we also leaned into change. Trusting the river of life within us, we pushed up our sleeves and got to work, cultivating change in our sphere of influence to refresh creation. We planted some purple chrysanthemums, pruned bushes, painted the kids’ table dark blue, scraped the front door in preparation for painting, washed windows, and shared a meal together.
Healthy communities are open to the flow of change. We trust that the river of life will be true to itself, flowing abundantly even in periods of transition. We say hello well. We welcome new people into our community, help them feel at home, and allow them to shape and change us. We say goodbye well. We release people into their new beginnings, affirm their unique gifts, thank them for their contribution, and bless them as they go.
This Sunday, we said goodbye to Madison with words and notes of affirmation, a gift, and a cake. We will miss his friendly smile, his grounded, relaxed presence, his heart for cultivating connection, and his organizational acumen. We are grateful for the unique gifts and contributions he made. He will leave a Madison-shaped hole behind. We trust the living waters carrying him onwards, and look forward to seeing what new beginnings God has in store for him.
Open to change, we trust God’s living water to flow into this space. We trust God to provide all that we need – finances, leaders, resources, guidance, and vision – for the next stage of our journey. Wherever the river flows, all creatures will live.
As we lean into the space left by Madison, may we be attentive to the flow of God’s living water, to what is already flowing here, as we determine our next steps.
Here’s a poem by John O’Donohue called Fluent to inspire us in this season of change:
I would love to live
Like a river flows,
Carried by the surprise
Of its own unfolding
-from Conamara Blues
Blessings, Anne