This is not so much a story about what happened at General Convention, or what the outcomes were; although that's a wonderful story indeed, one can read about that elsewhere. It's also not a story about what I 'did' at Good Samaritan Hospital during my Clinical Pastoral Education internship; my work tasks as a hospital chaplain were all that you might imagine. Rather, per Hartshorn's request, this is more of a brief stream-of-consciousness tale about how I swam with God this summer. Hartshorn said, "So often in describing an experience we simply describe the tangible things we did or saw − I'm more interested to learn how you experienced God in all of it." So, here I offer some reflections on what I've been discerning about God this summer through swimming together in the sometimes chaotic waters of a crazy-busy schedule, surfing waves of political and logistical project management, and treading near the uncontrollable undertows of mortality.

Why have I subtitled this little ditty 'A Tale of Life and Death?' Well, frankly, these have been literal and metaphorical themes in my daily experience for the last several months. Literally, as I've witnessed the sometimes harsh, painful, and seemingly cruel realities of how painful and unfair life can be through the experiences of patients and families at the hospital, I've been challenged to reconsider where God is in our affairs. This has been more than an academic matter of asking 'why do bad things happen to good people' as a theoretical exercise− it's been a gut-wrenching grappling with previously assumed 'truths' about God's omnipotence and the efficacy of prayer. As I've dared venture into murky depths of desperation and suffering with people yearning for relief and redemption, I've begun to shed some pretensions and presumptions that had previously protected me from what I've always imagined were dangerous and best-left-unexamined doubts. Metaphorically, both at the hospital and in my project management work, time and again I've had to let go of obsessions with perfection and order as I've been not so subtly invited to let the control-freak in me die. God speaks, "You're not called to do everything right, Michael… but you can and should do fewer things well. And, so much of the work you imagine and the problems you perceive is not yours to 'do' or 'solve'… we labor together, you, me, and others, in a co-creative process that will seem to you a little messy at times. That's ok. Trust that I am God." This has felt like baptism by both water and fire.

With God's help, what has been emerging from this crucible, from these deep waters, is a refined sense of who I am (and who I'm not) and what life can feel like when I remember that we're actually innately buoyant creatures. Of course you're fatigued from fighting the waves and rapidly trying to tread… Take a deep breath and be still, my beloved. Yes, you'll sink a bit at first… but you will also find that you naturally rise and begin to float. The actual curvatures of life keep our horizons closer than you realize − that is, we're never really that far from the next moment or opportunity for a choice, we can choose to approach 'what's next' with fear or wonder. Why not imagine that what happens next can be a delightful surprise if we engage it with faith, hope, and courage. And, when the next moment doesn't quite turn out to be so pleasant, trust that another new moment of possibility is on its way and that our reactions (or lack thereof) are part of the expression of God's charitable love for a creation that is in-process and always 'becoming' something new.

So what does all this really mean to me right now? Well, thanks be to God, I hope you'll find me a little less stressed over things that just aren't that important and a little more attentive to some things that might be. God, this summer you've reminded me that I'm always a beloved and wonderful work in process, that your grace is always there to be discovered in relationship with someone else, and that through our relationship with your incarnate Word and Spirit, there is perpetual redemption and inspiration toward greater love and peace. I close this tale with a prayer attributed to Archbishop Oscar Romero that well speaks to my swimming with God this summer, both in project management with Integrity at General Convention and through pastoral care at Good Samaritan Hospital. It's an invitation to reflection in this homecoming season.