As 2006 ends, I give thanks for my Preacher Coffee Group. We have an official name, but I call it the PCG. We meet most weeks unless the majority are out-of-town. I am the only member whose home wasn't destroyed by the hurricane. Everyone had church damage. Several aren't back in their sanctuaries yet.
Here we are, the original group:
Rev. Huntin Dawg, the fisherman, bright and articulate. He's the group organizer. Tells stories, makes up stuff and writes well.
Rev. Books takes the ferry to get to our group. The Big Bridge is out, thanks to the Storm. Reads, studies and reflects.
Rev. Bagpipes is on sabbatical and is enjoying her time off. She is creative, lively and lots of fun.
Chaplain Deep survived Viet Nam and two tours in our current war. Heart felt words, many wounds.
Chaplain Dr. Brain meets with us often but is on-call at times. Kind, noble with a great sense of humor.
The Reverends Angry and More Angry don't come as often as they did. Their tempers distract the group. They were crabby before the Storm.
Rev. Huntin Dawg drives us nuts with his inclusivity. He invites all the preachers several times a year. Some come, then leave. Others stay because we hold one another accountable which leads to a wonderful safety. Our only rules are that attendance is expected and what is said in the group is private.
This morning, I read the Church website of a famous seminary colleague. On the site, the Big Preacher states that his staff are his best friends. Ouch! Not good! Better to find people outside your congregation and staff who will put your feet to the fire, listen with a pastor's ear to your whining and let you know when you are being creepy.
Thanks, Coffee Group! You make me a better pastor.