Authors /
Rebecca Kirkpatrick
Rebecca Kirkpatrick, a pastor in the Presbyterian Church (U.S.A.), blogs at Bread, Not Stones, part of the CCblogs network.
Worshiping alone
I have written before about sharing worship with my son—the frustrations and the triumphs, the whys and the hows, the values and the hopes. It was especially meaningful to share space in the pew with my son week after week while we were living overseas.
All of that work and reflecting, hoping and teaching, has culminated in this new moment in our worshiping life as a family.
Time traveling
In the summer of 2013, our family moved to Cairo, Egypt to serve as mission co-workers for the Presbyterian Church (U.S.A.) living and working with the 150-year-old Presbyterian seminary there. Because of the sensitivity of our work and the moment in the life of Egypt, we didn’t share much online of our work and experiences while we were there.
Now we are living and working back in the United States and are still trying to process all that we experienced those two years: church life, politics, culture, and of course the hundreds of windows we walked through into another time.
Sour grapes
One of the things that I pride myself on as a pastor and parent is that I take the time to prepare my son for worship—pointing out to him changes or additions in the sanctuary that indicate something new or different will be happening in worship, making sure that he has his own bulletin and hymnal so that he can fully participate in worship with his father and me, even pointing out to him things that I think are strange or weird in worship, helping him recognize our worship habits or notice when we stray from them.
Attachment worshiping
It has been two years now since I left my work in congregational ministry—which means that for the past two years I have been able to consistently worship with my family instead of sitting in the p...
Nothing is lost
Several weeks ago our friend and pastor lost her first pregnancy to a miscarriage. It had been a difficult pregnancy up to that point already, and so the entire community was walking closely with her and her husband expectantly towards the birth of their son.
It continues to be incredibly sad for them and their family as they grieve not just for the life of the child, but for all of the potential and promise that the child held within him.
Counting the children
Several years ago I remember very off-handedly asking one of the ushers in my congregation how, if they take the attendance count when they are collecting the offering, do they count the children w...
You are not a bad person. You are just a person.
One night recently, after a tearful recovery from an afternoon battle of wills, I asked my son if he could describe to me what exactly he thinks went wrong....
How Sunday school and elementary school are different (and the same)
I worked in Christian education for just a couple of years before I had a child of my own....
A good goodbye
This past week I have shifted into a new phase of ministry, which has necessitated saying goodbye to the congregation that I have served with joy over the past ten years. I was sad to leave, but excited for new possibilities.
I was especially good at holding my emotions together over the entire transition, and though I am notorious for “losing it” in worship at the first sign of sentimentality, I held it together through all of my lasts—until it came to the last moment I would be at the church with my now eight-year-old son.
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