Our worship service starts at 10 am and includes hymns, prayers, scripture reading and a sermon. It usually lasts about an hour. Right now we are worshiping online and will adjust this message once we are able to meet together in our sanctuary once again. 
We are an inter-generational church and strive to be family-friendly, with an active ministry for children and youth. All ages are welcome in worship. We also offer nursery and child-care, Younger children begin the service with us and usually leave after about 15 minutes. Older children have the option of leaving for a special sermon time. Junior high and high school youth meet at 9 am and then often sit together in worship. Give us a call at 206-524-2322 for more specifics.
Wheelchair Access: The front entry is wheelchair accessible as are the rest rooms. Please don't hesitate to ask for assistance.
Two weeks ago I received my first dose of the Covid vaccine. I had begun looking for an appointment as soon as our governor announced that my group was eligible, and after several tries I was able to get one in Redmond. So that Saturday morning I took the ferry over to the mainland and drove south to the clinic where my shot was waiting for me. I arrived early, something not typical for me, but I was feeling anxious and did not want to be late. There were signs and volunteers directing the steady stream of cars to available parking, and the steady stream of pedestrians to the clinic. As I walked by the first volunteer and tried to say thank you, I suddenly realized I wasn’t going to get through this without crying.
First it was just watery eyes and a tight throat as I walked into the building. Then it was tears falling as I stood in line and when the person at the desk asked if I had an appointment. I could barely get out the word “Thanks” when another volunteer directed me to an open vaccination station. And when the man holding the needle cheerfully asked me my name, I answered with a full blown sob. Then I choked out, “Catherine.”
All of this is to say that clearly I have been having way more feelings about stuff than I am aware of.
The truth is I haven’t cried much during this pandemic, even though I have experienced deep grief. But there I was, in a room full of strangers, more people than I’ve been around in almost a year, and I couldn’t stop my tears.
After I received my shot I went into another area to wait out the 15 minute window to be sure I didn’t have any immediate allergic reaction. Then I headed back to my car. I was through most of my tears and I noticed another response. Suddenly I wanted to go to a restaurant, sit down, and have something to eat. I used to eat out all the time, grabbing a bite as I rushed through my busy day. But since last March I haven’t been in a restaurant. Now all of a sudden my old brain kicked in, as if the last year of home-cooked meals hadn’t happened, saying, “Let’s go back to the old way.” It didn’t stop there. As I got in my car and drove away from the clinic, I passed a theater. “I wonder what’s playing there?” I thought. “Maybe I’ll catch a movie.”
Good heavens! Clearly my thinking had reverted to a pre-pandemic mindset. Almost.
As soon as those thoughts popped up, my other brain said, “Stop that. First of all, you just got the shot a few minutes ago. And your second shot is four weeks out. And the world is still in pandemic mode. Just stop that.”
And more than “Stop that,” I also thought, “Wow. How fast was that? I do not want to go back to my old way of being.”
All is of this is to say I clearly have more work to do.
Throughout this year I have had the opportunity to become more aware of life’s fragility and its preciousness. I have left behind the hectic pace at which I used to live. For all the changes of the last year that I grieve, I also have experienced simpler and more reflective way of being. I have even baked my own bread, for heaven’s sake. And I have promised myself that I would hold on to these lessons. I was surprised at how quickly the old way of being said, “Welcome back.”
Isn’t that the way of out hearts? There is so much more going on in there than we are aware of. That spiritual task of knowing ourselves- our griefs, our patterns, our self-deceptions, and even our strengths- is much bigger than we might think it is.
When I finally got home from that first vaccine adventure I was exhausted. I ascribed my exhaustion to the vaccine, but I suspect it was also a side-effect of a year of grief and change, and a year of holding so much of that grief and change below my awareness, just so I can get through the moment.
I know that there are many who have been unable to schedule their first vaccine, and many more still waiting for eligibility. I know that the broken healthcare system this pandemic has unmasked is just one part of the broken systems this year has also made clear. I also know this year has invited us to new ways of seeing and of being that are worth holding on to.
We are not the same people that we were a year ago, thank God. And may God continue to lead us forward into whatever good thing is emerging in our world.
God be with me in my tears and in my turning. Even after I get that second shot.
PASTOR, ONCE AGAIN YOU HELP AFFIRM OUR SIMILAR FEELINGS THIS LONG CHALLANGING YEAR OF HOLDING IT ALL BACK THINKING SOON THIS WILL BE OVER……………WE CAN CRY, REJOICE AND MOVE ON…………..AND WE WILL .NOT TAKING THINGS FOR GRANTED WE MAY HAVE BEFORE.
YOUR BREAD LOOKS WONDERFUL!!!!
Amen, Janet.
Thanks for this glimpse into being vulnerable. It is interesting to me how differently grief is processed in each of us and in different ways. It was about 4-6 months after my mom died and the initial grief, that one day if fully hit me that she no longer here. Same thing happened after Dad died. Even now ,many years later I will experience grief over their deaths that just sort of comes over me for no apparent reason. That same sort of unexpected grief about the Covid epidemic and the loss of connection just comes over me every now and then and I just cry for no apparent reason. One of my theories that the grief is better out than in so I just let it roll. Blessings on you.
Your words are so true and so beautiful. Thank you.
Oh, Catherine, I too, cried at BOTH my vaccinations! I figured the second one would be fine but I was a mess. Thanks for this.
Yes Debra! I was surprised when I choked up for the second one too, but not as much.
So I try to be patient and not bitter about the fact that I still wait for my turn even though I have a preexisting condition I feel like my group just keeps getting pushed back. Mom whom I spent many hours finally getting appointments for is always pushing me to jump the line. A good friend runs the whole messed up confusing Island County Covid task force. They are doing a great job. The thing she hates the most…people who jump the line. I won’t do that, really I can wait. Although I really would like to feel safe at Blake’s graduation from college this June.
Thank you, Catherine. I also cried at my vaccinations. And I was SO grateful that I was one of the fortunate ones. I never thought I’d be so happy to have a needle in my arm. And the experience was exhausting. Thank you for sharing your feelings. We are forever changed after this last year — for the better.
May it indeed be for the better!
Thanks for your thoughts about getting the COVID vaccine, Catherine. I had my second vaccination on Wednesday. I didn’t cry, but I felt quiet, thoughtful. This didn’t feel like a routine flu shot. There was a lot of love there. Everyone was working together, asking how you were feeling, having eye contact, taking time. It was almost like receiving communion.
(By the way, the bread looks good!)
I am so grateful for the volunteers. And yes, the bread was good.
It may take lots of deep reflection for us to fully understand our response to this time. I became aware awhile ago that I was reading lots of poetry of lament and the Psalms of lament. And this lament runs so deep. Being both honest and gentle with ourselves may be helpful as we journey together.
I think it will take a lot of reflection too Gail. Right now. And years of it.
Amen
Catherine,
I am grateful for your open sharing of the depth and breath of feelings that got opened up with your experience. We, gratefully, have had our shots. I too, was taken with the kindness and upbeatness of those organizing and administering the shots–but it was disorienting in that we have been SO careful to not be in a crowd and suddenly we were in one and it was joyful–and bizarre. Indeed, this year has been bizarre and has so called on us to bind our feelings so often that it is so powerful when they show their “heads”. Thank you for modeling for us that the sharing of them can be freeing to others and bring us together.
Disoriented. Grateful. So much yes. Thank you.
That is SO how I feel! Thanks for giving voice to it.
Beyond the deep sense of relief and gratitude and big cheers in our car with being vaccinated, I found myself worrying about those who must still wait until it’s their turn. And during this pandemic time, I’ve found myself being more aware of the fragility of life. Beloved family members and friends who have died have been strongly in my thoughts and playing on my heartstrings. Even in my dreams. And then, for sure, I’ve started to be so much more thankful for those folks having been in my life. All of which has renewed my awareness of what’s truly important in my life.
I was just bursting with gratitude and excitement. Time was insufficient to express it adequately but I felt like everyone in the room was feeling the same. Early in the pandemic, after several weeks of strict isolation, Dan and I were going on one of our first masked walks in Edmonds, down by the ferry terminal. The few others who were also out mid-day were being super careful to cross over to the other side to distance properly. Suddenly, a lady crossed our path and our eyes met. I literally could no longer speak. Just that brief moment of connection was so powerful, meaningful, and heart rending! I just wanted to bawl for the joy of it. It took me a few minutes to regroup. My soul feels like a prisoner set free, I can’t help but rejoice!