Moving House

Seeing a reference to the this book of poetry by Angela Alaimo O'Donnell, I thought of the many times I have had to move from one home to another. Including university and moving for summer jobs, its around 24. There are always a few boxes I never get to. Most of us have had that sense of dislocation packing, moving, unpacking and adapting to new surroundings.

As a congregation we are living through that communal dislocation of moving house in our worship our committee meetings and our activities. I hope we have moments in the chaos when we realize that even these times can be life-giving. One of the traditional prayers in a funeral service encourages us to learn the lessons we can only learn when we are faced with mortality. Being "all shook up" can shake some grace into our lives.

O'Donnell's life began in a harsh and loveless coal-mining home in Pennsylvania. Her poems include her own miner father: "No poem for you my father/ I was always too afraid. Your quick anger, your dark days." She feels his frightening presence and after his death, we recognize the bond as she feels his absence, "hoping to find you again, my father."

As she grows into adulthood, a more hopeful new house emerges. Her sons delight her, as she watches them play basketball through the window and she asks, "Can I wish me a blessing?"

Can we wish ourselves a blessing? Why not?

Peter Lougheed