no longer necessary

Four machines Providence considers no longer necessary:

  1. Xerox Color Press 800/1000
  2. Xerox 700i Digital Color Press
  3. Xerox D110
  4. Carla Robinson 01

Oh well, such is life.

sunday into monday

I have a great deal of experience with the topic of transition. However the Sunday into Monday transition is still difficult for me.

On Sunday I am in my proper place. I am energized and I’m fully switched on and I know beyond a shadow of a doubt that this is what I was born to do. whether it is preaching or presiding, I know that I am in the center of my wheelhouse. I’m like a baseball player whose “in the zone.” You’re at peak performance and the game is a joy.

On Monday I’m out of sorts. I feel like a giraffe on ice skates. 3255598-cartoon-character-giraffe-isolated-on-white-background.jpg

I’m awkward and out-of-place and unfulfilled. On Monday morning I look at the calendar and despair that there are 6 six days of this before I can get back to the thing I love.

Tonight is one of those ugly nights. It’s 3:30am and I’m saying, “God, I just can’t do this again. I can’t face another day of meaningless work and Providence craziness.” Still I hold to my vision. I persevere while looking forward to the day when at least half of my work week will be spent doing that ministry to which God has called me.

the last three sermons

The last three times I’ve had the priviliage to preach have been among my best efforts: consistantly solid, biblically based, prophetic, clear, encouraging, grounded in the Gospel of Jesus Christ and in the best traditions of the Black Church.


Never have I been as clear as I am now about the three great forces that have formed and shaped me spiritually. Those three forces are: the Black Church, Lutheran theology and Anglican theology. Together these three are the lens, or more accurately, the kalidoscope, through which I see, understand and articulate the gospel of Jesus Christ.

In the last three sermons I have explictely mined each of these sources and purposely expressed insights into the gospel from each of them. This three-way conversation that is sometimes a chorus, sometimes an agrument, sometimes a love-fest and sometimes a fist fight, has given my preaching a new depth and freshness.

I’m delighted at all of this. At the same time I honestly cannot take credit for what has fallen out of my mouth in the last three efforts. The Gift has been operating at full power of late. When I see what God’s people are expereincing I know that the Spirit is at work. As I witness God’s people being encouraged and built up in the faith to do their work in the world, I know who deserves the praise.

Sola Deo Gloria

As for me, my job is to faithful. Keep showing up. Keep myself in the Word. Keep standing at the altar. Keep praying. Keep speaking.

The fat girl report: 2/11 to 2/17


The week was weak. Technically I succeeded. I lost 0.3 pounds. But it didn’t feel like success since I was plagued again by the same old problems: evening eating and weekend eating.

Still, the scale edged down. If I look at what I did right, there are a few positives. I made and stuck to a food plan for workday breakfast and lunch.  I was in the gym five times. That was a first. There are some things to continue and the usual suspects to address.


facing lack of success

I’m on the verge of another unsuccessful week but not for lack of trying.


I’ve been consistent in getting my steps in for the day. I’ve been consistent in getting to the gym and getting in at least 30 minutes of exercise time in which my heart rate is in the cardio range. I’m getting it done on that side of the weight loss equation. And yet steadily through the week I’ve been gaining weight.

The trouble must be with my eating. When I look at that I see inconsistency all over the place. I’m not inconsistent everywhere. When I’m at work, I plan what I eat and I eat what I plan. But that is where my food consistency ends.

Weekends are a mess. Evenings are a disaster. This is where I’m losing the war. I’ve got to get hold of weekends and evenings or I will continue to be unsuccessful.

from sunday to wednesday

The stretch of days from Sunday to Wednesday was a whirlwind.


Sunday the 12th: I got to preach and preside at Ascension. I took the opportunity to proclaim the Gospel of Jesus Christ according to Absalom Jones. His feast day being the 13th and it being Black History Month, that seemed apropos. Looking at his life and casting it as lessons for the Church today, I was pleased at where the sermon went. I was further encouraged by the reception of the sermon by the good folk of Ascension.

Monday the 13th: The Day After Let Down. I drag myself to Prov, knowing that I have to push through a work week. It’s not that I’m ungrateful. It’s just that the difference between doing what I was born to do and doing what I have to do is never clearer and more painful than it is on Mondays.

Tuesday the 14th: Valentines’ Day. Usually this day means nothing to me. Mostly I hide from the sappy sentimentalism of the day. For some reason this V Day I found myself thinking about love–not the sentiment, the real deal. I was particularly aware of how much I miss Howard. I couldn’t shake the memory of the last day we kissed, which was also the last day of his life.

Wednesday the 15th: I was at St Mark’s Cathedral, Skinner Hall–the very space where my wedding took place. I was there to watch and discuss the film Al Helm, part of the Mideast Focus Film Series. Going to St Mark’s is like a visit home. The film was moving and the discussion was insightful.

By Wednesday night every time I closed my eyes a montage of images from these few days flashed before me. My dreams were intense and the night was restless.

the fat girl report: 2/4 to 2/10

The week did not go well. Actually half of the week did not go well. So it was a tale of two halves: It was the best of weeks and it was the worst of weeks.

Monday was a snow day and I wasn’t able to get out of the house to go to work. Under such circumstances I naturally gravitated to the kitchen. Sitting and eating all day is a bad combination. And of course I didn’t track my food. If only that was the sole bad day of the seven.

However Saturday and Sunday were no better. The second week in a row of good news from the scale put me in a celebrative mood. I thought, “That’s it. I’ve done it. I’ve turned this ship around. Its nothing but success from here on out. I’ve got this weight thing beat.” For two days I was lazy. I didn’t track. I ate as I pleased thinking I had plenty of time to do the work needed for a third straight week of weight loss success.

Well I was wrong.

Tuesday, Wednesday, Thursday and Friday were good days. I tracked. I ate much better. I went to the gym. I was better with my fluid intake. I was pleased.

So today when I stepped on the scale I was sure I would see at least 198 and maybe even 197. Instead I beheld 200.6, a gain of a pound and a third. It was like a slap in the face. I was sure I would never see 200 on my scale again.

I’m going to have to sit a bit and take this in. This is a hard pill to swallow. Clearly my work is cut out for me. I’ve learned the hard way (yet again) that four good days do not equal a week of success.