If you look really close, you’ll see snow-covered mountains. Only someone who left 78 degree Houston can really appreciate this. Time to put on layers.

Last weekend I flew to Phoenix for our soon to be curate, Katie Churchwell’s, ordination to the priesthood. It was in her home parish, St. Peter’s, Litchfield.

The ordination was part of St. Peter’s regular 5 PM Saturday worship with an Advent wreath, O come O come Emmanuel, and a warm welcome. The music was St. Peter’s usual praise music.
It was a service filled with joy.

I sat with Katie’s husband, Logan, and baby daughter Addison, who was one of the youngest presenters ever. It was such a gift to spend the evening with those who love Katie so very dearly.

I usually know our curates very well having journeyed with them through the three year plus Commission on Ministry process. Katie’s ordination was only the second time I’d met her.

It could only be a God-thing that had this Diocese of Arizona deacon move to Houston to a subdivision near St. Mary’s.
Our Canon to the Ordinary ran into her at Sunday worship at another church and less than two hours later (apologizing because I’m on Sabbatical) called to ask if St. Mary’s wanted a curate–and a Quin grant to help pay her. After meeting Katie for a long chat at Starbucks a few weeks later, it was a yes.

Since I didn’t have to be anywhere on Sunday, it was a gift to be able to fly for an overnight in Phoenix.

Two weeks from tomorrow, I’ll return to St. Mary’s bringing a new priest back with me. But first I’ve got to go to Bend to be with my grandsons for Christmas. I’ll be meeting Jonas in a few short hours. And in the miracle of wireless and iPhones , I’m blogging this from over 10000 feet in the air.

Jonas Everett Fain was born December 8, 2012 at 11:54 PM. A healthy 6 lbs, 1 ounce and 20 1/2″ long.

This Grandma in Texas can hardly wait the 10 days until I meet him!

From the Episcopal liturgy of thanksgiving at the birth of a child:

May God the Father, who by Baptism adopts us as his children, grant you grace. Amen.

May God the Son, who sanctified a home at Nazareth, fill you with love. Amen.

May God the Holy Spirit, who has made the Church one family, keep you in peace.
Amen.

After a cold morning walk to breakfast (it’s grand being able to walk where I want to go rather than drive), I was off searching for the labyrinth of the day. The Cathedral of St. Francis had one outside the entrance, except this morning it was roped off with yellow tape in anticipation of workers coming later to put up a giant wreath.

Slipping under the caution tape, my friend and I decided to start our prayer walk before the workers showed up. Next thing we knew we were joined by a mother and daughter who were walking a labyrinth for the very first time. The daughter quickly decided to take the short cut to the center, but the mother continued to walk thoughtfully. Because she saw us walking, the woman had an unexpected time of prayer. We all felt blessed.

The wonder continued. The New Mexico History Museum had an exhibit of pages from the St. John’s Bible thoughtfully curated with photographs of New Mexico sacred spaces and a quiet space within the exhibit for meditation.

The exhibit did an extraordinary job of describing the huge community of artists and theologians who have worked together for over ten years to create the first handwritten and illuminated Bible in five hundred years.

It was truly sacred space.

Brother Curtis’ words express how I feel about this day:

The real quest for our prayer is to learn to pray our lives. It’s to practice the presence of God in every moment, every place that we move, every person whom we touch, every word that we speak or hear.