This is a transition week for me.
Last sermon at Small Church 1 last Sunday, and some final clean-up and two meetings scheduled tonight.
Presbytery (our regional governing body) meeting last night, at which my membership was more or less transferred from one presbytery to another, pending paperwork that is mercifully the problem of other people at this point.
First sermon at Small Church 2 next Sunday, so trying to get some stuff moved in there and to think about the Annunciation and the word "Greetings!" Last week one of my new parishoners looked at some of what I'd brought with me that day and asked, "Are those books all yours?" LOLOLOLOLOLOL. Just trying to clear off a few shelves at home.
Meanwhile, one of my current parishoners, a gentleman with whom I have spent many hours over the past two years, moved to Hospice last night and is actively dying. The hospice nurse told his wife that much of what we have seen in the past few weeks have been signs of the end approaching. I'm glad I have a 1.5 hour drive down there today in which to digest my anger at the many doctors with whom he has been spending his last days. Why oh why oh why aren't they trained to recognize those signs and (this is most likely the real issue) talk about them candidly to the family? This man has suffered so much these last days, none of it necessary. I get so sick of that kind of hospital shit.
Well. His wife is very grateful to the new doctor who finally sat her down and laid it out yesterday, and to the hospice nurse who filled in some of the blanks. And I've got a little more information about the dying process tucked into my pocket.
One other piece of information I did not have until a few days ago: How difficult it would be to turn my people over to a new pastor!