And a small cabin build there, of clay and wattles made:
Nine bean-rows will I have there, a hive for the honey-bee;
And live alone in the bee-loud glade.
And I shall have some peace there, for peace comes dropping
Dropping from the veils of the morning to where the cricket
There midnight’s all a glimmer, and noon a purple glow,
And evening full of the linnet’s wings.
I will arise and go now, for always night and day
I hear lake water lapping with low sounds by the shore;
While I stand on the roadway, or on the pavements grey,
I hear it in the deep heart’s core.
- Trinity got along fine (so far as I know) without me. So perhaps I don’t need to stress so much at the next crisis? You all managed a lot of crises this fall and I didn’t even know about them. Trinity is not the most important thing in the world--I knew that, but this fall I experienced that.
- Can I adopt a new M.O.? I would like to avoid simply slipping back into the place where I was and we were when I left in July. I wonder if one of the best blessings of this time for all of us is that it could teach us new ways of being in the world. To that end, I hope to
- Re-enter slowly and not try to rush back in.
- Learn from my ignorance--a new place for me. Vulnerable, but heuristic.
- Listen. Listen. Listen.
- Ask good questions. What did you learn about yourself and your leadership here? What did you learn about my leadership? What did you miss me for? (Please tell me you missed me a little . . . ) What do I need to be focusing on? What things should I not do?
- Teaching. Philemon stirred that up big time. I’d like to offer a Theology semester elective each year: alternating, between a Philemon class (which is really a class in Paul, early Christianity, Canon, Hermeneutics, and much more) and an Overview Class of Christian Thought through Christian Biography and Classics.