April update: shifting light

Where we are, that doesn’t mean the warm temperature surges that I grew up with in preparation for a hot summer. It means that the temps are going to reach double digits (in Celsius), you can layer a bit less, and the sun is going down a little past 8:00 at night. The winds are still there, and so is rain and fog, but it’s peppered with the buds of leaves emerging from the woods surrounding our apartment. It’s a jump that, unlike the constant traffic of the freeway below our building, is seasonal and says “Get ready for something bigger and beautiful.”

A week ago, Icelanders marked the sumardagurinn fyrsti, or first day of summer. Rather than the common four seasons, Icelanders look more at the times when the days are growing nightless, and away from the short bursts of light of the winter days. Light goes from inside, and comes out for the whole world. My dad and I were so lucky to experience this during our May 2024 trip there, when we had bright sunshine into the evening hours; it was not uncommon to have the sun setting at 11:00 at night, and all of our hotel rooms had light blocking curtains for a reason.

April feels like the Icelandic first day of summer in many ways. I completed my final class for the year a few weeks ago, winding down the year with a sermon I wrote on the Book of Obadiah for my Preaching Foundations course. I turned in my portfolio for my first year of Formation, and received some feedback that will help me prepare for the year ahead. I have my next year planned out, as we have to register for the entire year to come. For all practical purposes, I’m now an “incoming second-year MDiv student.”

Given that I’m out of school for the next four months- almost five- the first thought of most would be to rest and recuperate. It’s been a very busy year, with trying to move, negotiating life in two countries (past and present), working to adjust to a new city, and navigating seminary. Because I spent most of the first year in transition, I have to focus now on gaining a stronger foothold where I am.

And there is so much to do and think about. I’ve learned so much this year, but I have challenges to face and debate. I am looking a lot questions in the eye, like
“How do you serve and be present when you are training to take the role of leader?” and “How do you ground yourself better in a faith tradition when you’ve been a sojourner?”

They’re hard questions, y’all. Add our life responsibilities and dreams to them, and they feel daunting. How do you live life as a member of a congregation when you are called to do supply once or twice a month? How do you sit and observe when you feel called to offer your gifts, whether in singing with a choir or providing worship leadership to a congregation with an ailing minister?

It’s very hard to sit back when you have something to give, when someone needs what you have to give, and you honestly need to give that something to support yourself. How do you take that step back when you need to work?

In a bigger city like Halifax or bigger, you have to be more emphatic about how to make a living when you are literally applying for the same job as hundreds of other people. As an artist, I have to do more than I’ve ever done to get my work out there. And when it comes to getting paid ministry practice, I’ve had to be the one to offer my services as a student minister. It has all been productive, as I have been able to expand my creative practice and share my work, find work that is fulfilling, and get the opportunity to meet amazing people through offering to help lead worship.