Carolina Wren
My name is Amy and I’ve just retired.
Moving day is almost here…
When I was forty and had been in ministry for about five years I attended a retreat for clergy women in Georgia. It was a break from serving in a very small Alabama town where no woman had ever pastored before. I needed that getaway, because I was feeling isolated and tired. I was questioning if my work was making a difference. Was it God’s dream for me to be where I was? A retreat is great for getting away and seeing things from a different perspective.
As I was walking on the beautiful grounds I noticed a distinctive birdcall. De-de-doo, De-de-doo, De-de-doo. And for all the world it seemed the bird was singing “We need you, we need you, we need you!” Startled, I pondered who needed me. Then I thought of the little girls and teen girls, young adult women and women my age that had few opportunities to see themselves reflected in the pastoral leadership of their churches. Maybe this unknown bird was speaking for them, and what I was doing was making a difference. It was like a confirmation of my call. Over the years I’ve heard the same song now and again, and each time I smile and am thankful.
I’ve since learned it is the Carolina Wren that has that beautiful three-note song. But as often as I have looked to catch a glimpse of who is singing, I have never spotted the golfball-sized wren. In one of my final sermons this summer, I shared the story of the bird’s long-ago affirmation as a reminder that even though we can’t see the Holy Spirit, we can see evidence of the Presence.
As I said, I am a retiree. For almost a year, David has worked to transform Kotona into a great retirement boat. And for the past month, we have both worked to shed most of our possessions, tie up loose ends, and move aboard. We have made numerous trips from parsonage to boat with many journeys to the storage unit in between. After one of our first nights spent on board, I was brushing my teeth and gazing out a porthole, enjoying the sunrise and the calm water, getting ready for another day of moving. And guess what I heard? De-de-doo, De-de-doo, De-de-doo.
What does that song mean now that I have completed almost thirty years as a pastor and no longer serve a congregation? David suggested the words could be changed; “You’re done now, You’re done now, You’re done now!” But as I hear the wren sing again as I write this I am thinking, “What is it? What is it? What is it?”
This past week, North Alabama’s United Methodist leadership gathered at Annual Conference. I was one of two dozen retiring pastors, and our more than 700 combined years of ministry were recognized. Some retired in name only, as they will go on pastoring part-time or in a low-key appointment. We jokingly call this “failing at retirement.”
I don’t see that happening to me. I am looking forward to freedom from pastoring so I plan to succeed at retiring. I can imagine doing gigs like leading retreats or online small groups, and I hope to offer spiritual direction (that is, if somebody needs me).
We hope to remain on Kotona for some years; as long as we have our health. How shall I use this gift of time? Here are some thoughts:
I want to stay in touch with family and with my clergy sisters.
I would love to capture some thoughts on spirituality and sailing.
A friend recently asked if I had read the book, Church of the Wild, and when I looked it up, I responded, "That sounds like how I want to spend my retirement!”
I also have some studying to do. I grew up with sporadic sailing experiences, first with a tiny Sunflower sailboat, and later with a semester on the sailing team at the Bahrain American School. David and I sailed a Capri 22 in the 90’s, and got back to sailing as retirement approached, with our Beneteau 235. But I still find myself sailing more by intuition than by technical know-how. Some of the books we have in Kotona’s library have been calling to me, and I believe I’ll start with The Handbook of Sailing.