It started, innocently enough, as a seemingly random conversation about shoes. But it didn’t stay there. We were at REI in June, picking up a few items for summer travels when Chris fell into a conversation with the woman in the checkout line next to her (Mary by name) about the sturdy shoes the woman was wearing. By degrees that conversation between Chris and Mary about shoes became a conversation about our hoped for Sabbatical, and when that happened, it moved onto holy ground.
Mary: WHERE MIGHT YOU GO FOR SABBATICAL?
Chris: Europe.
Mary: WHERE IN EUROPE?
Chris: Among other places, Scotland.
Mary: AND WHERE IN SCOTLAND?
Chris: A small island off the West Coast called Iona.
Mary: I JUST RETURNED FROM IONA. I LEAD PILGRIMAGES THERE, AND HAVE WRITTEN A BOOK ABOUT HOW TO PREPARE SPIRITUALLY FOR A TRIP TO IONA…
Chris: [Jaw drops]
A few days later we received an email from Mary, affirming our serendipitous meeting:
“I truly delight in these sorts of exchanges and, since you have already engaged the pilgrim’s path, you now walk in a way that no encounter is happen-chance or without deep import! Even when simply asking a stranger in line at REI about her shoes!!”
Oh, how thin is the veil between the mundane and the sacred! In days that followed we came to see our encounter with Mary as providential and a great affirmation of what we were hoping to do. In fact, that encounter with Mary led us to conclude that even if Christian Theological Seminary (CTS) turned down our Lilly grant application, we would somehow summon the resources necessary to continue with the portion of the sabbatical vision that included Iona.
Fast forward to August 15…We knew CTS would be communicating its decision during the final weeks of August, but we didn’t know how it would come—via mail, phone, or email. After losing sleep over it, I finally contacted CTS via email to ask how their decision would be disseminated. Five minutes after hitting SEND, the reply came to my INBOX:
“Letters went out by USPS yesterday and will arrive at your congregation’s mailing address any day now!”
That reply guaranteed more sleepless nights as we waited for the letter to arrive. Then, finally, on Saturday the 17th, while working with a crew on the Little Free Library project at Peace, I spied the approaching mailman and intercepted him as he headed our way. Among that handful of mail I spotted the return address of Christian Theological Seminary on two letters—and my heart skipped a beat. I immediately went inside to let Chris know it had arrived. She ran up the stairs and we both took refuge in my office. Sitting at my desk, I stared at the envelope with my name on it, my hands shaking. I wanted to say something, to utter a prayer, but could not. The power of the long journey leading to this moment, the investment on the part of so many, and my own deeply held dreams all combined and I was overwhelmed.
As Chris held me, I gestured for her to pray, and from her mouth came the most beautiful and eloquent prayer of thanksgiving and release—affirming that whatever the outcome, we knew our lives would continue to rest in God’s hands. Then, reaching for the scissors, I slit open the envelope, opened the letter, and read:
“Dear Pastor Kindem, It is a pleasure to inform you…” Oh! Those sublime and long awaited words! THE ANSWER WAS YES!!!
Our plans and those of the congregation would be fully funded. Gathering our kids and holding each other in a circle, we shared the news. Hugs and joy and dances all around…
The gift is so astounding; we are humbled as well as energized. We know that many other letters bore news of a different outcome, and so our elation is coupled with a heightened sense of responsibility to steward this marvelous opportunity in fullest measure.