“It is a serious thing just to be alive on this fresh morning in this broken world.” — Mary Oliver
Transitions are hard, aren’t they? A few weeks ago, I finally took the roof box off my car, a signal that I was here and ready to settle in. But my phone GPS kept telling me how long it would take for me to get “home” if I left right now…. 2 hours and 22 minutes to Northborough…. Yes, it is creepy that our phones know where we’ve been and where we go, but it’s also a marker of this shift. Now when I get in my car, my phone tells me how long it will take for me to get to 1 Middle Street, Brunswick or back to my place on Brookmere Way. My phone knows that I am here now, that this is my new reference point, home base. And it feels good to have arrived and to be still arriving, still learning your names, hearing your stories. I worry that once we meet in person and our masks can come off, I may need to hear your names again, but that’s a challenge I’ll gladly tackle when the time comes. And it will, dear ones, there will come a time when we can all be together again.
I know that outside it feels like the world is crumbling around our ears. Fires and floods, violence and heart-break, and a global pandemic that has taken over 200,000 lives here in the United States – a death toll difficult to comprehend. And all of this, all of this loss and devastation be- ing spun by those who are supposed to be leading and caring for us – for political gain, fanning the flames to raise our fears at a time when calm, decisive action is what is needed. So we must care for one another – as you all do so beautifully – and use our voices and every tool at our dis- posal in this fragile republic of ours to let our leaders know that we expect more from them, that we elected them to pro- tect and defend our Constitution and to help create a more perfect union. On Sun- day, October 4th our worship service will be offered by “UU the Vote,” a national program offered by our UUA. This is the time to make our voices heard and to ex- ercise our most precious right, the right to vote.
We’ve had some cold evenings and chilly mornings here in Maine, and I expect that soon we will see fall color in the trees, something I missed while living in the South for the past two years. Transitions are hard, letting go of what was, without being sure of what will come next. And yet there is also beauty, beauty in discovering what is new and finding again that which is eternal and familiar, like the leaves of autumn and the frosty blades of grass. Let us continue. I remain grateful for your warm welcome, and I look forward to spending time with all of you – in all the ways availa- ble to us.
In faith and service, Justine