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Erin's GA Journal: 
Reflections from Erin Cox-Holmes

An Underlying Systemic Disorder, Anywhere I Look

A profound philosophic observation: Some years are good years. And some years are bad. The Chinese chalk it up to which animal is in ascendancy. I was born in the Year of the Dog, so-so, as years go. 2001 is the Year of the Snake, promising "deep winter, with potential hardship and difficulties to overcome."

In every year but this one, I've headed out to GA with a full suitcase and a light heart. The swirl of symbols and the press of Presbyterians -- I love it. I can't wait to pack up the troops and Get There.

Not this year. For our family, this has been the Year of the snake. Our son, Graham, suffers from world-class asthma and catastrophic food allergies.  Now, we've been dealing with it for 13 years. We've got the routines under our belts. Or we did. In February Graham had an allergic reaction to some hidden cheese which sparked a chain reaction of other problems. His immune system got trigger-happy, went on Def-Con 4. Hyper-reacts to normal substances. His breathing, his stomach, his eyes -- To put it in a nutshell, they're ready to name a cubicle in the emergency room after us. His life -- and ours -- fell apart. He's missed close to 40 days of school since it started. I am a rumor, rather than a presence, at my office.

So this year, getting ready for GA has been marked, not by anticipation, but dread and micromanagement.  Meredith, our 5 year old, is drip dry.  We pack a little suitcase of clothes, and a big suitcase of Barbies, and she's ready to go. Since Kent Holmes, my hubby and presbytery moderator is also attending GA for a few days, getting ready to leave Graham has been a nightmare of contingency planning.  We pack a little suitcase of clothes, and a big bag of medications and emergency instructions. The morning we're supposed to get on the plane, we're still waiting to see if he seems past the most recent infection, before we decide we're good to go.

Our year has been bad. Very, very bad. What a bad year we've had.
As I try to look like even a semblance of a presbytery professional, I am reduced to thinking in Dr. Seuss. 

It's in this mood -- anxious, frazzled, aching -- that I arrive at the Pittsburgh airport. The gate area is spilling over with presbyterians all bound for Louisville. In fact, there are so many of us bound for Louisville, that the flight attendant begs for somebody to get off the plane, and offers a free ride to anyone who will do so.  All those sweaty bodies overpacked on the plane emit the same odor of anxiety.  We're heading for a shootout. Potential hardship and difficulties to come. Even in June the Presbyterian church seems to be locked in the deep winter of the Snake.

As I try to think about GA, but instead am thinking about my son, the connection strikes me.  Just like Graham, it seems to me that the immune system of the Presbyterian Church is out of whack. We have been "at" being the Church for a long time now. We've got a lot of conflict resolution experience under our belts. We ought to be able to take our current differences in stride and get on with the messy business of being the human Body of Christ.

But instead the Body seems to be having allergic reactions.  The immune system is falling apart.  As I get my GA packet,  I wonder if we are going to tear ourselves apart, and if there is any balm in Gilead which can soothe our reactive souls.

My pessimism is interrupted by John Detterick, executive director of the GAC. A month ago John and Cliff Kirkpatrick, the GA's Stated Clerk, held a consultation with our consortium of Western Pa Presbyteries.  Kent and I were on our way to it, when a cell phone call alerted us that Graham had just been taken from school in an ambulance with an anaphylactic reaction to some biscuits he's eaten a hundred times before.  We hightailed it to the emergency room, while the consultation worship went on without us.  Later we discovered that John and Cliff had led those gathered in prayer for our son. Today John stopped the Important Things he was doing to come over and ask how Graham is doing. "I've been praying for him every day," he said. So, it turns out, have many people we have never met, as word of Graham's difficulties has spread through presbyterian networks.

Graham is doing swimmingly, right now, back home with friends. And I've been astounded how people I don't know, with whom I probably would not agree, stop me on the sidewalk to tell me they have been praying for my son.  On the airplane, as we sat there with not enough air and too many presbyterians, what struck me was how decent everyone was being with one another. There was an automatic courtesy on the plane, as presbyterians made room for each other,  which Marks those who have served each other at the Table. 

It's that network of Grace, I think as I assume my nametag, which can save us.

I pray for an inoculation which will render us less allergic to one another and our opposing viewpoints. May it be a Year to build up, not a GA which destroys us. May we find the cure for our system disorders. I'm not sure whether I'm thinking of Graham or GA. Both. Both.

What a year we've had. Some are sad and some are glad.
And some are very, very mad.
From there to here and here to there,  Presbyterians are everywhere.

This is Erin Cox-Holmes,
for Kiski Online