Monday, December 2, 2013


This in-between locale is . .  weird.
I have a new church in which I barely know anyone. I will, but I don't yet.
It's not a situation fraught with the intensity of my first call two years ago, when I was being ordained and dealing with impending breast cancer surgery.  And also when I had no real understanding of small church communities.
Absent that combination of intensity and ignorance, I am beginning to understand how very much I am changed since Josh's death.  I feel removed from my life, in the sense that my capacity for wholehearted openness has vanished.  I don't think it's coming back.
You know how people with brain damage can experience a healthy portion of the brain beginning to take over for the area of loss?  Somehow the neurons fire themselves up in different ways than they have before.  They stretch to learn something new and, if luck is on their side, they get the job done, but it's not the same.
Yeah.  It's a weird sensation.


  1. Ditto here. I am not who I was. Weird indeed. The good news is they are meeting you as you are now, and do not know the difference!

    1. Of course! Karen, you are brilliant! So often I think, "But I used to . . ." But of course no one I meet now knows that. So it only matters to me and a very few other people.

  2. Robin, I didn't know you then and I do understand that your journey which has been difficult in so very many ways has effected a change in you; however, you are God's work of art and an incredibly caring and marvellous person. You have accomplished so many things in which you didn't used to be involved. You are a person whom I respect and admire greatly. Blessings and prayers for strength and peace during this time of year that brings much joy but is accompanied by much pain as well.