Pardon the abrupt ending of my previous post. The cable-guy rang my doorbell and, just like that, disconnected me from the internet --- Well, o.k., the doorbell and the cable weren't connected, but you get the idea.

As of Saturday night I had successfully reconnected the internet at home and yesterday I began my new “job”. I am now the curate at Church of the Transfiguration in Palos Park. Should I write “curate” or “Curate”? The latter seems too big. Perhaps after June 3rd, when I am ordained to the transitional diaconate I will feel ready to be called Curate; until then, until then, curate is just fine – or, “priest with training wheels.”

A line from one of this morning’s Psalms leapt off the page into my mind: “LORD, be merciful to me; heal me, for I have sinned against you” (Psalm 41:4). As I recognize that my feelings of anxiety and inadequacy are an odd juxtaposition (forgive me fellow Seaburians) to my belief that this is God’s call for me, “heal me” seems the only prayer appropriate to the occasion.