Home is where the heart is.
That is what my first needlepoint project said so I decided to believe it when I needed it
the most - I was in the 6th grade and just told we'd be moving from Atlanta GA to a small
town in SC.
I was told the same thing again when we moved before my freshman year of high
school from SC to NC - but this time, it is was my parents saying it as they tried to
comfort their middle school pre-pubescent daughter who wanted no part of yet another
move.... .
So, after I graduated from college I lived in 3 states in 3 years, met my husband-to-be
who had big Broadway dreams, and it then became what I told myself when I realized
we were going to move (quite against my will - because who would want to leave
Boulder Colorado?) to New York City to follow his dream.
Home is where the heart is.
Now - 17 years later, I heard myself saying the same thing to my own two daughters
last summer - we were only moving 5 miles but to them, the change FELT like crossing
an ocean.
Home is where the heart is.
Clara, Maggie and I crossed the St Stephens threshold in the summer of 2000 - Clara
was a wildly creative, high energy two year old who lived in her imagination most of the
time and Mags was a newborn with colic keeping me up driving up and down the NJ
highways for most of the night. The suburbs were a strange new land and I remember
feeling so lonely and isolated after being on the streets of Park Slope/Brooklyn with my
morning mom groups, coffee shops and dog runs all before lunch. In those early days
here, I am sure I had bed head and dark circles under my eyes and likely slept my way
through most of my Sundays here....but Ms. Louise in the nursery took good care of my
babies and this interesting man with a more interesting name and an earring always
gave me so much to think about or stirred my deepest spiritual curiosities enough that
we kept showing up. And then I started to come just out of pure curiosity to see if Judy
would ever wear any other color besides black.
Little by little, I started meeting you all - my "peeps"- as I now affectionately refer to my
St Stephens community - and the cast of characters here felt more like a family than
anyplace else in my world. The Southerners - the Dorns and the Coles would just talk
to me with their syrupy sweet accents and I"d be back in the South with my
relatives...Without even knowing her, I listened to Melissa's farewell speech (the first of
many) and I was crying in the pews (also the first of many) , Al would share his
tomatoes with me in the summer, Bogey would ask me about my running, Owen would
ask me to drive to Newark to deliver some turkey boxes, I'd go to Cork’s
EducationForMinistry class to learn that my entire theology wasn't as misplaced as I
thought it was - OR - I'd get yelled at by Mrs. Clark for always bringing Maggie late to
preschool, - and ALL of this time, ALL of you would mistake me for my dark-haired twin
(also known as Pamela) and I realized - I had a family. I was needed, others noticed
me and cared for me. I mattered - and my gifts were appreciated.
Like many of you, I have often found great comfort from this community in my time of
need or loss in the ten years of being here... - my father’s death, my divorce, typhoid
fever, my sister in law’s murder, a miscarriage......There you were showing up for me....
Alex bringing flowers after my appendicitis or Roger/Barbara offering rides when I broke
my ankle. I’ve celebrated many milestones here too - Maggie was baptized here, Cork
and Judy married me and the love of my life, also known as Joe, two great years ago
last week, and the church has always supported me with my non profit, Girls on the Run
and my life coaching ventures. That is what a family does - they ride the ups and downs
together.
I can remember so many conversations with Cork over the years - how to forgive, raise
daughters, grieve, love God, sit with someone’s pain or just keep myself together....in
spite of often feeling like the pews in this church would be just exactly where I’d come to
fall apart - BUT - what struck me was the realization that this is the best place to do
just that. If I can’t break down with all of you, then I can’t break down anywhere. I
believe that when my daughters, husband and I are sitting in this sanctuary with all of
you, that we are doing what I believe is holy - showing up, worshipping & loving God
and serving God by putting that love into action - that is when my heart is singing,
connecting to God and feeling the most at home.
Home is where the heart is
I wasn’t raised Episcopalian - I was honestly lucky if my parents even made it to church
a few Sundays a year - it caused a lot of stress getting 4 women out the door for my
father so all of the yelling and conflict didn’t always seem worth it in the end. He used to
damn God many more times than he would praise Him and complain that “moving 4
Southern women out the door was like moving a herd of turtles.” - So, honestly,
sometimes the rituals confuse me here or the Bible verses don’t make sense or - at
times - our readings leave me feeling like the Bible is worse than a bad Sidney Sheldon
novel. But, that isn’t what is most meaningful to me, so I don’t spend too much time
analyzing or worrying about those bits. There is a bigger picture here for me, for us -
the community, the service, the worship, the celebration that we are all flawed but want
to serve and love God and each other. The acceptance of everyone - it is huge. When
we take communion, I am always inspired - I see all of you as my brothers and sisters
and I love the way we are all celebrating our human-ness but taking in the qualities of
Christ to go and serve the world and it is the anchor of my week. The first time Joe
came to church with me, he was so new to the concept of communion and told me “wow
- I really like it when we all get to go take Jesus snacks together” - It could just be that
simple. I LET it be that simple....we are a place where love begets love. I love that
about us.
Sometimes I am asked why I chose St Stephens as my church home and the answer
hasn’t changed in a decade.....but it is sometimes the mouths of babes that say it best.
So I asked Clara ,what our church meant to her and she said quite a lot.....more than I
knew - so parents take note - it sometimes pays to ask the question in the first place!
Here is what she said:
“Mom - our church cares about the two most important things - giving to God and giving
to others. I’ve heard of churches that spend their money on hiring cool bands, pool
tables and other expensive things for the church - but our church spends their money on
soup kitchens, housing the homeless, visiting our friends @ Canterbury, food barrel,
angel trees and numerous other charities that help give back to our world the way God
would want us to. St Stephens is very open-armed to all different people, which I also
like a lot. I also love the fact that when my aunt died, St Stephens rushed to our side
and helped us in our moments of pain - My dad’s church didn’t do that because Aunt
Teresa was gay. I think SS is a beautiful, giving church and it is really awesome.” I love
her use of the word “open armed” - I”m going to use that one when I go about my work
week....
Home is where the heart is.
There is a prayer that we always used to end our EFM meetings with and I often
meditate on the simplicity of it all when I am feeling overwhelmed...and I think about the
power of this message and how to internalize a true attitude of gratitude ....
For all that has been - thanks be to God
For all that is - thanks be to God
For all that is yet to be - thanks be to God.
And for the simple truth that
Our home is here at Saint Stephens for ten years strong and
Home is where the heart is ..
And - for all of you - our church family - and all that you mean to us...
Thanks be to God
Amen
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