by erinrobinsonhall@gmail.com | Nov 12, 2020 | Reflections, Wonder |
Today, we loaded up our little circus and took a drive. The kids had a school holiday, and we planned a little fun out of the house. Didn’t matter that the weather forecast screamed “stay home” or that the clouds tried to warn us. We packed enough snacks for this crew and drove to see the animals at Dauset Trails. In our family, this is a week for celebrating adventures. We are celebrating our “Coming Home Day” tomorrow, the day we brought our kids home. Adventure in the rain felt just right for this morning, and we had fruit snacks, so why not? Halfway into our drive, the sky opened up and rain began to pour. I watched the older kids’ faces. Logan, our oldest son, whispered, “Does this mean we got in the car and came all this way for nothing?” Disappointment doesn’t always go over well with this crew. I said, “Nope. It does not mean that at all, buddy. It means . . . Disney Rules! Now, you watch the clouds.” He grinned and knew exactly what I meant. My husband forgot this particular Disney Rule, but trusted that I could avoid the whining and tears for a while with this plan. We adore Disney World, and the first time my husband and bio son Logan went to Disney, I laid out my “rules.” There are many, all brilliant. The one about rain and storms, I will share. It goes like this. When it storms at Disney, as it does every afternoon, you do not leave the park. You do not hide away in a store...
by erinrobinsonhall@gmail.com | May 25, 2020 | Reflections, Resources, Uncategorized |
I love a good podcast. I’ve listened to them, hosted and produced them, critiqued them, used them for teaching, and listened with my children. Most of us have our favorites and we follow when new episodes will release. Why does this matter for the practice of ministry? Because we live in a time of digital connectivity. Digital connectivity, a term from digital theorist Douglas Rushkoff, refers to the ways in which internet resources and social media permeate both society and how persons relate to one another. It seems like connectivity would be such a needed thing in a time of social distancing. This may be one reason we love podcasts. But what does “community” mean in a society shaped by this kind of connectivity? When it comes to digital devices, the experience can be like what Rushkoff calls “digiphrenia.” The perceived necessity to keep pace with the onslaught of information available creates a “tension between the faux present of digital bombardment and the true now of a coherently living human.” If we didn’t believe this before #pandemicpastoring, we know it now. We are (faithfully and rightly!) distanced from in-person gatherings. We have Zoom Church, virtual gatherings and podcasts. These are a gift. And. Even as we are grateful for the opportunities that digital resources offer, we can name that technology can be exhausting. We can wonder which best practices will nourish and sustain a flourishing ministry. Digital connectivity is not an accessory to ministry but a thread that weaves throughout the lives of most congregants. Rushkoff suggests that the context of “present shock” in digital connectivity is incompatible with...
by erinrobinsonhall@gmail.com | May 6, 2020 | Prayers, Resources, Uncategorized |
It’s a gift to be able to share space with people who just get it. My friendEileen Campbell-Reed always offers me that space. We can shorthand conversations about things that matter deeply to the practice of ministry, and I know that we hear each other. That’s one of the reasons I am grateful to be part of 3MMM. These episodes offer a space for ministers to name the parts of ministry that are not easy to explore. One of those spaces, for me, is grief. Specifically, grief around motherhood. For a long time, that grief was marked by loneliness. My husband and I experienced many years of fertility treatments before our son was born in 2012. Followed by more seasons of infertility treatments, miscarriage and adoption loss. Mother’s Day has not always been easy. I am not alone in that grief. We know that 1 in 8 couples will experience infertility. Which means someone in your circle of friends. Someone in your family. Someone in your pews. Maybe someone in your pulpit. Chances are, they don’t want to tell you all the details of their grief around infertility treatments, miscarriage or infant loss. So much of this is extremely intimate and, frankly, makes no sense if you have not had to wrangle the emotions and fees and calendars and weight of this kind of loss. Those who know fertility grief know the wails of failed hope, and they walk into worship spaces where hope is spoken, sung and claimed. It’s a striking chord, and often jarring. Which is why we sing each other through it. At our first “Hannah...
by erinrobinsonhall@gmail.com | Feb 12, 2020 | Reflections, Uncategorized |
My mama has always done this. Since we were little bitty things, she has given us treats to celebrate special days. This week is no different. I am a grown woman, with a family of my own. And a box full of Valentine surprises arrived on my doorstep this week. Now, we don’t do simple or understated in my family. Sometimes, I have wished we could. I have envied those straight-laced, buttoned-up families from time to time. But, since subtlety is NOT our spiritual gift, I have come to accept that all gifts from Mimi will be chock full of more extras and fancies and sparkles than any child needs. (Need is not really the point when it comes to celebrating, my mom will tell you) We are just EXTRA. It’s a whole thing. As I looked through the box, I was in awe of what I saw. Not the array of stickers and markers and stuff. I was in awe of the attention she paid to each person in our family. Little things that were selected or hand-made for each person, my husband included. I mentioned ONE time that I saw an ad for a Valentine mailbox, and wondered aloud if Mom could make something like that for the kids. She did. Just like that. For the child who loves art, there were new markers. For the Mama who sometimes needs little ones to have a quiet thing to do, there were mess-free coloring books. For each of us, there was something to make us smile. She has always loved us well in this way. My siblings...
by erinrobinsonhall@gmail.com | Jan 16, 2020 | Reflections, Uncategorized |
I had a whole plan to get through Christmas Eve unscathed. In a pastor’s family, Christmas Eve is often a last hurdle on the 100 yard dash of this liturgical season. We usually arrive at this high holy moment in our congregation after a feat of planning that feels more like an American Ninja Warrior sprint than a sacred practice. Add to that pace the fact that this year our family was different. Doubled in size, actually. We have welcomed new children from foster care, age seven and younger, into our family in recent months. Their curiosity and wonder at all things Churchy should have given me a clue that my plans for a *calm* moment of worship were just . . . laughable. But sometimes we miss the glaring clues. So, into worship we went. My plan was to slip in right after the service began, because our little ones tend to take in every sound and sight that most congregants take for granted and . . . ask about it, touch it, pick it up, jump on it, or point to it. For this particular, no-seat-left-in-the-house kind of service, I wanted to maintain some level of chill. Since I knew the liturgy by heart, we waited until the organ prelude had quieted and my Pastor/Husband Jake began the invocation. He bowed his head, and in we walked. Quiet reverence covered the whole sanctuary. And then. My three year old looked up and saw WHO was giving the prayer. Even though Jake did not look up. This sweet little boy pointed and exclaimed in a shout, “Daddy! That’s...
