Last night we had one of the five Presbytery meetings that our little corner of the world does in a year. The January meeting is always held at the home church of the new Moderator, and serves as that person's Installation service. We also celebrate those coming onto committees and work teams, and we recognize those finishing terms on committees and work teams.

Some people loathe Presbytery meetings. Me? I love 'em. I love 'em so much that for about a year before I was ordained I worked for the local Presbytery in California (where I lived) as the Recording Clerk. This means I spent hours preparing the meeting packets before Presbytery meeting, attended the meetings--laptop in tow--and sat next to the Stated Clerk (the official Parliamentarian and Keeper of Robert's Rules of Order), taking minutes of the meetings. Then, after the meeting I wrote up the official minutes so that they could be approved at the very next Presbytery meeting. I like knowing that somewhere in a storage room in Philadelphia, my work for that year is part of the permanent record of this denomination I love.

But now I love these meetings because for five evenings a year, for four or five hours, about a hundred or so people who also love this denomination are gathered in one room, making decisions, worshipping together, and building community. And, unlike my role in California (Presbytery employee) I am a voting member here, with all the rights, privileges, and responsibilites thereof.

Our new Moderator is an Elder. I love that our denomination values the voice of the layperson. In our Presbytery, every other year a person who is not a minister is the Moderator. This particular Moderator was the lay liturgist on the Sunday that I preached my neutral pulpit sermon when I was being considered for the call to St. Stoic. He was also the chair of Committee on Ministry, so he walked beside me during parts of my process, and asked me one of the first questions during my Examination for Ordination by Presbytery. Last night was my first oportunity to be back in that church in almost exactly two years. It was very powerful last night to be back in the sanctuary where this part of the journey all started.

Today I had lunch with four clergy friends--all women in solo church ministry. There were two Presbyterians, an ELCA Lutheran, a Methodist, and an American Baptist. Really. Even though it sounds like a set-up to a bar joke, that's the makeup of this group. It is two hours, once a month, that is set in concrete on my calendar. It would take the most severe of emergencies for me to miss this lunch. (Four of us are traveling together to Atlanta this Spring to Mondo Conference, so those of you who are going will see us there.)

What I love about this group is the commonality of our journey. We couldn't be five more different women, but we have such similar stories. We *get* each other. We have a common thread running through our lives. I can't help but think we represent what it means when people pray for Christian Unity. Thanks be to God.