We Are The Body

I had the honor & privilege of presenting at my church's diocesan convention on Rhythms of Grace. This is my baby, my passion and my ministry. Like most ministries, it found me, not the other way around. One of the biblical personalities I most identify with is Jonah. He said no to God, and even ran away (an oversimplified version of the story).
I had a similar, albeit less dramatic, journey.
My religious persuasion is decidedly Episcopalian. Unlike other traditions, mine is quite fluid and non traditional. Different churches incorporate other elements, whether its combining the ethereal of Celtic spirituality or Lakota language. I have chosen consciously to follow this spiritual path and brought my family along for the ride. My ride also includes inclusive worship.
My son has high functioning autism. Certain situations are tortuous to him, causing something akin to physical pain. Church, my sanctuary, my haven, the place where my soul sings and soars, is one of those places. The confines of the pew represent a prison. The longstanding Anglican chorister tradition is torture, punctuated with organ notes.
Church is not a place to find God.my son finds Him in other places.
I searched for a way to reconcile both.
The answer came, surprisingly, in my twitter feed. A female episcopal priest,, and mother of an autistic son, promoted a church service she celebrated at Epiphany, Walpole. Entitled Rhythms of Grace, I had to learn more.
That still small voice screamed in my my ear:
DO THIS.
I wish I could say it started and has been fabulously successful. Sometimes we are the sole souls in the sanctuary. Other months, there Are many crowded together. Like life with autism, it is unpredictable and quite the roller coaster ride.
That still small voice sent me.

For more on my workshop, click here
http://caregivingstinks.wordpress.com/2012/09/23/good-church/