Reflections Upon Heading Home

My bag is packed, and shortly I’ll head out, flag down a taxi like the best of New Yorkers and head to the airport.  I still have the rest of July for the Sabbatical, and massive amounts of work to put what I’ve written and thought about during these weeks into a coherent form, useful to the church I serve, and perhaps to the church world at large. One last walk in Central Park this morning helped me to see three things. First, I accomplished a great deal on this time away.  I am rested, healthy, filled with the love of family…

The Kingdom of Heaven and Heathrow Airport

Perhaps the kingdom of heaven is a bit like Heathrow Airport on Wednesday, June 27 . On that day: I fly from Heathrow to NYC, ending my extended sojourn in the UK, and beginning my reentry into the US. My nephew flies from Heathrow to Los Angeles My nephew’s mother-in-law lands at Heathrow from Florida. My son flies in from the Middle East mid-morning for two meetings at Heathrow and then back out again that evening for Berlin. My daughter-in-law’s brother lands at Heathrow from Bogotá, Colombia for the funeral of their sister’s father-in-law. Chances are none of us will see each…

A Sabbatical Update from London

It’s a gorgeous day here in this suburb of Carshalton, about 14 miles south of London. I always tell the Londoners that I bring the Texas sunshine with me–which is generally the case!  I understand, however, that we will probably get rain tonight and it will be considerably cooler by the weekend, with highs then in the 50’s. Sunday is the beginning of the Queen’s Jubilee celebration here–on that day, it will mark the 60th anniversary of her coronation as Queen of England.  Although we tend to think of the monarchy as an outdated, archaic institution, there is something quite powerful about…

London, Sunday Evening

It’s been a cold, somewhat draggy day here.  Never past 50, overcast, damp.  Typical English weather.  I read and wrote all afternoon, and did some laundry.  The boys finally went outside to play, having exhausted their creativity inside.  No sweaters (jumpers here), no jackets, just t-shirts in this weather.  I think London children are tougher. About 6:30, the doorbell rang and Ian, Rocio, Katie and Grace trooped in.  After their sweetness of keeping the boys last night, Adriana fixed dinner for all of us.  Roast chicken and pork, roasted sweet potatoes, white potatoes and carrots, huge fresh salad, freshly made guacamole–the usual…