Friends,

I have for you a brief tale of two of my pet-peeves with our campus.

For our first segment, let me tell you about the cursed trash-eating squirrels that would routinely terrorize the day school. We once had maybe eight residential style trash cans in the alley and we were part of the county’s routine trash pick-up. The cans had been there for as long as anyone could remember, and squirrels had chewed large holes through them. I hated this, because trash would blow everywhere and it would often smell bad and get over-filled. For our Church members this was a non-issue, because the problem was hidden and few had any dealings with it. For me, not only as the priest but a new Day School parent, this was terrible. I was often the first person to walk down the alley in the morning to drop off my then two-year-old son who was just beginning school. On our cute journey to school, we would routinely spook this family aggressive squirrels getting their breakfast in the trashcans, and they would explode out of the squirrel sized holes, bolt to the fence and thoroughly scare the daylights out of us.

Just over a year ago I told the vestry that something had to change with our trash squirrels. Discussions started about changing services and getting a dumpster, then the conversation stalled, but then a miracle happened. The county sent us a note saying they were discontinuing all commercial (including churches) trash pick-up, and we’d need to find a dumpster service! No more discussions needed to be had, and we had to adopt the squirrel-proof solution that made our alley less-smelly and messy. Woohoo! Problem solved.

You’ve probably heard me complain about the subject of our second segment before. Due to no lack of will, resources and expertise, the leak in the steeple is persisting. Multiple times we thought we had the solution in place, and even had the ceiling repair guy scheduled to come in and patch the water damage in nave, which is expensive and disruptive. Every time we claimed victory, more water would get through and cause more damage as if it were wait for our queue. I just received an encouraging e-mail from our contractors, and we have an even more comprehensive fix lined up that should permanently fix things. The repairs are not scheduled yet, but my hope is that by Thanksgiving the steeple will be repaired, we’ll wait for a major rain to test the fix, then finally patch the ceiling. I have no reason to believe this fix will not work, but I have come to the point where I won’t be surprised or upset when some complication pops up and we have to re-evaluate.

Some problems almost get fixed for you. I felt like all I had to do to get the garbage situation fixed was start to complain about it, then God seemed to work through the bureaucracy of the waste management department of Fairfax County, and the great ad hoc committee that found our new trash service, and BOOM it was done.

People tell me that they’ve seen water damage on the ceiling for decades, and that it has been fixed multiple times just for the damage to return almost immediately. Years ago, I told the vestry that we needed to show the congregation that we could fix this problem so they would have faith in our capability to get things done, and here we are still trying to get it done, seemingly of no fault of our own, and I have no intention of removing this as a priority. Spiritually, I need to keep trying to make this better. I cannot pretend that having perpetual water damage on our ceiling is acceptable, and I will continue to persist in trying to fix it regardless of how futile my efforts are. I will know that I’ve failed when I have become complacent with the problem, and start to shrug when people ask me when it is going to get fixed. I want to be forever armed with the knowledge of the next step in getting this done, because surely this is something that can get fixed.

The medical journey my family has been on the past year and a half has been humbling, and at no part did things work out the way we had planned. This coming week will mark a major milestone for us, and I will be out for a couple of days while Leandra recovers from her last surgery. I actively try not to talk about this a lot in my sermons or in these messages, but I remember writing to you about a year ago that will take us years to process what we’ve been through. A year later, and I feel like we haven’t had time to ponder, learn and grow. With every step of treatment there was some scary complication, and even after all of the bells were rung, and we were supposed to be done, something else would pop up. We are well past the scary stuff, but things are not easy, and in my back pocket I am constantly armed with the next step that should lead to healthier and more care-free days, which must be just around the corner. I refuse to be complacent until they are.

I do not know if God was really working to intervene in helping us get rid of the aggressive trash-eating squirrels, but I hope that is the case. If not, my faith is no worse for wear. I do not know if God is in hospital waiting rooms, in a co-worker coming over at the last minute to take care of kids, or in the Tupperware in the bags in my office we are still waiting to return from our meal train when we are finally “done”, but I would be highly surprised if that is not the case. If the hallmark of God’s presence was that problems got easier to solve, then that would feel kind of cheap for me. My dog is pretty freaking great, but she can’t imagine a world that is any different than it is. I can imagine a set of circumstances that will lead to an end to the water infiltration issues in the Church, and this possible future has stirred my soul to persist in working for that imagined future.

God has given us a unique drive to devote heaps of effort to work toward a future that is just imagined, and working for these futures is never simple. There are always complications that stall progress, or sometimes progress does not look the way we expect. Things don’t get better all at once, and when they don’t, we can get jaded or cynical. Failures can happen. What is hopeful for me, is that people still try to make things better. Treatment is never in a straight line, and every time we spoke to the doctors, they were always armed with the next step in making that hope in a healthier future more of a reality.

Things will get better. Sometimes they get worse. A lot worse. But, if I had to bet where God is most present, it would be armies of people equipped with the imagination and drive to work for that better future.

Blessings,

Nick