Joy

 Joy is a tricky thing. It can be one of the most exciting emotions but it can be so very elusive. Joy comes in moments of great sadness and in extreme happiness. I have felt joy in odd ways. I think most of us have. In my role as a person of faith, my joy frequently visits when I see the Vicar living out his vocation. Recently it has also included supporting the three oldest PKs as they venture into the world of acolyting. As a former Roman Catholic, I always wished that I could be up on that altar serving alongside the "altar boys". I know some of my contemporaries served in these capacities but allowing girls to be acolytes wasn't fully integrated until I was already an angsty teen struggling with my faith journey. 

When I returned to consistent worship, I was an adult, had a lot going on, and didn't feel like I could commit to a service schedule. Then came the PKs. Then I really didn't have time. Always feeling like the altar was somehow out of reach for me has been one of the things I struggled with the most in my continuing faith journey. I have purposely sought to build relationships and affirm women who have responded to the call to serve God's people because I never wanted any of the PKs to feel like I have. God's call knows no gender. Our PKs have been so very blessed to have been surrounded by people who show them that God calls all sorts of people to serve. 

This past weekend was the first time, in my entire life, that I pulled on a cassock, pulled on a surplice, and administered the sacrament of wine to people in my faith community. My children were lovingly looked after by our church family during the service. The feeling y'all, it was overwhelming. To be so close to the eucharist as it was being blessed and broken, was indescribably beautiful and meaningful. Watching PK 2.0 serving alongside her dad, and doing it with confidence and grace, definitely some tearing up. Was I worried I'd screw something up? Yep. But as my sweet husband reminded me, even if something happened, we were there to worship and celebrate a meal with God, it wouldn't matter. Giving the cup of salvation to my children, knowing that their faith journey and foundation are strong... was truly one of my best Sundays. Second, only to the days, they were baptized. 

If you've ever wanted to be part of the eucharist but you're worried or scared, do it anyway. Everything I've ever really wanted has come on the other side of my greatest fears. Do the thing that scares you. Know that you are worthy to serve and be blessed in your experience. I'll be cheering you along the way!