Where have you been?
I haven't written in quite some time, and I am sure there are one or two people in America who are sad. Okay, maybe three, but I really don't count my parents as fans. They have to like me, I have their DNA.
To say I have been busy is an understatement. Today is day thirteen in a stretch of days that will end on Saturday. The store has officially opened its doors, and we have been busy, busy, busy. I won't bore you with the details of shoddy construction, downed computers, incompetent computer techs and the like. Just know that if it could go wrong this week, it did. I handled it with as much grace as I could, given that several of my employees know that I am married to a minister. I didn't swear at anybody; I didn't threaten anyone with bodily harm; I didn't lose my temper. I just thought about doing all of the aforementioned, and then promptly repented. My husband can rest easy. I haven't been around too much to say something embarassing.
This weekend is Reformation. We crazy Lutherans have a special service and then celebrate our heritage by drinking beer and eating sauerkraut. It is also the weekend when my childhood church is rededicated after being destroyed by Hurricane Katrina. I would like nothing more than to be there, but life and responsibilities in California are keeping me here.
I always like to say that my formative primary years in Louisiana had a profound impact on who I am now. Mardi Gras, crawfish, and drive through daquiri stands made quite an impression on my young mind. The church in New Orleans started as a mission congregation, and we met in the Pastor's garage. Until I was eleven years old, I thought only the Catholic church had pews. We had folding chairs and stood up for communion. But we went to Mardi Gras parades together, had a crawfish boil in the spring, and the church put out a cookbook called "Louisiana Lagniappe." It is the best church cookbook I own, and I don't think there are any recipes for hotdish in it. If there are, the recipes probably call for hot sauce and alligator tail. How many potlucks have you been to where there is shrimp etoufee?
My parents are making the drive down this weekend, as is my brother. If The Rev. and I could do a drive by re-dedication we could, but I am working and there is a joint service in San Diego that we will attend. My heart will be in the Crescent City, though, and I plan on getting my body there soon.
To say I have been busy is an understatement. Today is day thirteen in a stretch of days that will end on Saturday. The store has officially opened its doors, and we have been busy, busy, busy. I won't bore you with the details of shoddy construction, downed computers, incompetent computer techs and the like. Just know that if it could go wrong this week, it did. I handled it with as much grace as I could, given that several of my employees know that I am married to a minister. I didn't swear at anybody; I didn't threaten anyone with bodily harm; I didn't lose my temper. I just thought about doing all of the aforementioned, and then promptly repented. My husband can rest easy. I haven't been around too much to say something embarassing.
This weekend is Reformation. We crazy Lutherans have a special service and then celebrate our heritage by drinking beer and eating sauerkraut. It is also the weekend when my childhood church is rededicated after being destroyed by Hurricane Katrina. I would like nothing more than to be there, but life and responsibilities in California are keeping me here.
I always like to say that my formative primary years in Louisiana had a profound impact on who I am now. Mardi Gras, crawfish, and drive through daquiri stands made quite an impression on my young mind. The church in New Orleans started as a mission congregation, and we met in the Pastor's garage. Until I was eleven years old, I thought only the Catholic church had pews. We had folding chairs and stood up for communion. But we went to Mardi Gras parades together, had a crawfish boil in the spring, and the church put out a cookbook called "Louisiana Lagniappe." It is the best church cookbook I own, and I don't think there are any recipes for hotdish in it. If there are, the recipes probably call for hot sauce and alligator tail. How many potlucks have you been to where there is shrimp etoufee?
My parents are making the drive down this weekend, as is my brother. If The Rev. and I could do a drive by re-dedication we could, but I am working and there is a joint service in San Diego that we will attend. My heart will be in the Crescent City, though, and I plan on getting my body there soon.
posted by pastorschick at
7:26 PM
1 Comments:
Why oh why does it always make me cry ? (there's a song there I think). We have been 'gone' from New Orleans and the little congregation there for almost 20 years, yet every time we go back I feel I am going home. When you are a Crown of Lifer...it is for LIFE. I would not be anywhere but in the church I am now, but I so miss New O! We, too, celebrated here with beer & sauerkraut, and I, too, know my heart spent a good part of the day in a little church by a quiet canal.
"Do you know what it means...?" Oh yes, I do !!
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