Space

Two different strangers randomly made fun of me recently.

Part of me was aghast.

One guy pulled over in his car after I nearly fell off a curb and turned it into a pirouette so he could tell me thanks for the laugh.

The other woman just made fun of me for wearing a balaclava, hat, sunglasses and hood. It was cold and dorkiness doesn't count when you are trying to stay warm.

Part of me laughed.

I try to give thanks for my "goofy human stuff that makes me approachable." (That's how a friend graciously described why strangers are willing to mock me.)


I'm going to claim that and even hold it up as part of my pastoral calling. My goofiness makes space for others to breathe and laugh.


That could be my most godlike quality. I don't say that to boast about me, but point out what a wild God I worship.


I've been thinking about the one creation story recently

where we hear in Genesis,

"In the beginning when God created the heavens and the earth, the earth was a formless void and darkness covered the face of the deep, while a wind from God swept over the face of the waters."


God makes light, but then God pushes back the waters of chaos so there is space for creativity and life. Creation is not so much about making something out of nothing, but making space in the void, the chaos, the busyness, for life to exist.

Sometimes I think the most important part of my calling is trying to make space for breath and life. I try to join in this act of pushing back the overwhelming voids and darkness so there is some room to delight, create, and breathe.


I suck at most things religious so I'm going to hold onto this gift with all my might. I'll wear my goofy human stuff on my sleeve knowing it probably won't win me any glamour awards, but it might make a little space in the darkness for laughter and breath.