Leaving Crete

I have not been blogging regularly, and the reason is that right now I am feeling disconnected. 

I came to Crete because it is an island mentioned in the New Testament.   Acts 27:7-15.   It is the last place Paul was before Malta.  The weather was turning (much as it is now - we had severe thunderstorms in this semi-tropical place the first two days I was here, to the extent that the ceiling in my room was leaking, fortunately not ON anyone or their stuff, but still leaking).  Paul sets in to Fair Harbor, a place that still exists and which is actually still named the same thing, but which I could not get to.   Or rather I could not get back from, since the KTEL (Greek Bus) page shows busses going there, but I could not find any busses returning, alas.   I could connect with Paul in the turning of the seasons, in the coming of the storm, and in the preparation for a last journey. 

Another reason that I am feeling disconnected is, since coming to Greece I have not been able to worship with a community.  One of the findings of this Sabbatical, maybe the biggest one, is that I need that, and that I benefit greatly from it spiritually.  I hope to find it at home.   Maybe my community would be likewise interested.   Maybe when he retires, my husband would be.  Maybe I can find a community online.  Maybe I can co lead a local group with other pastor(s).   In any case I intend to look into it when I return, maybe starting something up in Lent.  Or earlier, in Advent!  I have, gladly, visited all sorts of churches, but the cultural disconnect (95% of Greeks are Orthodox Christians - which is a very different thing, liturgically - I believe the next largest group are Muslim) and the language barrier have led to me not having a place to worship on Sunday or on weekdays.   Hopefully, next week, I will find something in Athens.  

The last reason I am feeling disconnected, is that I am missing home and family.   It has been a long time now, more than 3 months, and I am ready to return.    I could travel longer with my husband or my daughter, or my granddaughter, but alone is a different thing.  I miss them.   I miss having conversations with my granddaughter that are not manic (she gets very much bouncing off walls when we talk - and I am sure it is the distance and the stress of the call).  I miss holding my husband.   I miss the community of Church at home, and cannot wait to be back with them!  I miss cooking, and putting together a five ingredient dish in the hostel just doesn’t count.   I work just fine alone, but Covid further estranges one: we make sure there are sufficient feet between us in the bedroom, we wear masks everywhere.   

It will ultimately take me some time to sort through my photographs (an obscene number of them!) reread my journals, and process the last three months.  It so far has been wonderful and glorious, but just like for Paul, the season is coming to its end; I can see the signs of the coming change.  

My next location is Nafplio. This has zero biblical significance, but the only Greek location that I have not yet been to and still wish to go is Athens, and I am doing that at the end of this journey.  So Nafplio will just be rest and recreation.    I’ll probably blog once, then give you more as I go to Athens, and again walk in Paul’s steps.