A Change is Gonna Come
Yesterday was one of those unexpected gifts. In a region where summer lingers and lingers like an unwanted houseguest, the air was cool and drizzly. It was as if Nashville and Portland temporarily switched places. I ran in the morning and I wasn’t a walking puddle of sweat at the end. Each time I went outside, I was greeted by mist and breeze. I could get used to that.
I won’t get a chance to get used to that because the temperature will flirt with 90s again within a couple of days. It will be mid to late October before we maybe (maybe) get that kind of cool weather consistently. But, my goodness, yesterday was nice. It seems like it has been summer for a year and, for a little while, we were reminded that autumn is somewhere down the road.
We need fall. I am not a fanatic about the season. I am not one of those people who loves Halloween and starts guzzling pumpkin spice lattes when they appear way too early in late August. I do like football season (although I have some growing internal conflict about the sport; another post for another time). And I am looking forward to wearing my zip-up hoodie regularly because, in my humble opinion, that is the best article of clothing that humanity has conceived.
But the main reason that I think we need autumn is that we need the change. There is something about the changing of seasons that brings hope. It’s the idea that a page has turned, that a page can turn. If the earth itself can shift from scorching heat to cool crispness then maybe we too can change. Maybe the ruts that we are in will shift.
The change doesn’t always come quickly or even neatly. Fall will come slowly and may never seem like it will come. There will be fits and starts. We’ll get a fleeting glimpse of it and then wonder if it was all a mirage. Change does not happen overnight, but change does indeed come. The page will turn.
One of the most hopeful verses in all of scripture is Revelation 21:5: “And the one who was seated on the throne said, ‘See, I am making all things new.’ Also he said, ‘Write this, for these words are trustworthy and true.’” The changing of the seasons, even though it is not new, is a reminder that change is part of the plan. Things will be made new. Chapters will be written. A change is gonna come. This hope is true.
I have a new office in our home and one of the things I am enjoying is decorating the space. I have placed books, Lego sets, and Funko Pops on the shelves. My wall has photos of family, places that I have traveled, artwork my siblings have given me, diplomas, etc. Across from my desk on the wall, hangs a cross that we got from a church in Reykjavik and a small colorfully-painted tile depicting Assisi. On the floor beneath them is the one item in here that I haven’t yet put up: my certificate of ordination.
I was ordained as a minister ten years ago today. It was a step with which I struggled for awhile. My Baptist roots fostered in me a firm belief in the priesthood of all believers. If you say that you are a follower of Jesus, then you are a minister. So the hierarchy implied by being called “Reverend” made me feel a little uncomfortable. I did not use the title for myself often unless I was writing my Congressperson. Despite these qualms, I did ultimately pursue ordination. I am glad that I did. I am just not totally sure what to make of it now.
I don’t serve as a vocational minister anymore; not in a church, not as a chaplain, not in some sort of parachurch organization. I am an Administrative Assistant in a hospital Spiritual Care department. In fact, I haven’t even attended a church service in maybe a year and a half save an Ash Wednesday service that I snuck off to at the beginning of Lent. I did officiate a wedding in a church over the summer; an experience that I loved and was very meaningful for me. But I don’t really know what to do about that ordination certificate. Or church.