I've gradually learned how to leave properly so that with the tension there is also a sense of joy.
The fable of the race between the tortoise and the hare reminds me of when I've accepted a new call. It's not so much the unexpected outcome of the race or the moral about tenacity or the warning about overconfidence that impresses me. It's just that when I accept a new pastorate, I feel like both a tortoise and a hare.
As he moves, the tortoise carries with him everything he owns, with the consequent risk that entails. I am amused by the New Yorker magazine cartoon depicting a turtle with a hung over look on his face. The caption says, "What a night. Hailstones!" Such are the complications of self-contained units.
After deciding to move, there comes a moment in the moving process, whether I am loading a U-Haul trailer or professionals are filling up a huge Allied van, when I see all my worldly possessions strewn upon my front lawn. To me that's not only a dramatic symbol of ...1