Rev. Barbara Dingwall Mills
UU Church of Weymouth's minister, Barbara, is a long-time member of the church and a resident of Weymouth. She was ordained by the congregation in 2009. In addition to Sunday services, she officiates at weddings, child dedications, memorial services, and funerals for church members and the community-at-large. Barbara also serves the congregation as Administrator.
When she is not preaching at the UU Church of Weymouth, she is available to be a guest speaker at other local churches. She also officiates weddings, child dedications, funerals, and memorial services. More info is available here.
email: revbdmills@comcast.net
phone: 617-347-6360
When she is not preaching at the UU Church of Weymouth, she is available to be a guest speaker at other local churches. She also officiates weddings, child dedications, funerals, and memorial services. More info is available here.
email: revbdmills@comcast.net
phone: 617-347-6360
Minister's Message
Winter 2024
As I was sitting in my living room reading our novel for the upcoming book club, I suddenly noticed that I was seeing shadows on the walls. What a lovely surprise to find that the sun had returned. I am sure like me you have noticed that the angle of the winter sun is changing, giving us more sunlight hours each day. Although it is still winter, I’ll bet that you can feel the difference in the warmth of the sun also at this time of year. It is higher and stronger and reminds us that spring is on its way.
Always I think back to my days of skiing at Gunstock in New Hampshire in late February over school vacation when, at the end of my runs, I would find myself returning to the lodge after depositing my skis in the ski corral, looking forward to seeing my family and friends and to regaling one another with our afternoon exploits on the slopes. Our stories and feats were always made even better with a glass or two of wine or hot chocolate (usually the former, to be honest), a plate of steaming and decadent nachos loaded with gooey cheese and salsa, and to settling in to listen to some local musician playing guitar and singing tunes we all knew. Slowly we’d warm up and always we would welcome whoever showed up at our table. The first one in the lodge was responsible for claiming the entire table for 10 or 12, as we were well aware that starting around 3:00 and proceeding for the next half hour or so, we would be joined by more and more friends and family. We were boisterous, maybe a bit too loud, exhilarated, and absolutely exhausted, but never too tired to have some fun. The kids, ranging in age from three or four to teenagers, were allowed to come into the pub as long as at least one adult from our group was already there. I can still recall their eager faces as they gathered in the adjoining room, peering over the railings into the bar area to see if they recognized a grown-up’s face so that they too could come and join the camaraderie. There was lots of hugging and talking, some good-natured ribbing, and loads of congratulatory wishes when someone new at the sport had enjoyed a particularly daring and successful day.
On days like this, I miss those times. I miss the excitement, the fear, and the joy of playing outside. A few weeks ago I went for a walk along the Cape Cod Canal with two of my sisters and then for lunch at the Fishermen’s View in Sandwich overlooking the mouth of the canal. The day was not unlike today and after walking about a mile and a half, we all decided it was time to retrace our steps and eat. The breeze that day had been at our backs on our way down the canal, but, oh, it surely was not on our return. Even though we were dressed for the walk, our earlobes began to get cold, our eyes to run, and our cheeks to burn. We walked faster and faster, all the while rubbing our hands together in our gloves and glad that we had gone no farther than we had on our first leg of the walk. We were seated immediately in the restaurant and slowly we began to warm up. Just as I was about to comment to my sisters how the day and the conditions reminded me of our skiing exploits, they too were about to share the same thoughts. We all recalled how reminiscent it was of days gone by and how much fun we’d had together. Sandwiches may have replaced nachos and water wine, but the sweetness of exertion and fulfillment was just the same. No longer do we ski, but our kids all do and now they take their kids and meet their friends and probably feel just as we did all those years ago.
One of my favorite hymns is “My Life Flows on in Endless Song”. It speaks about all of the tumult and strife we all endure yet also of the fortitude and grace that guides us on our way through life. Each verse ends with the question “how can I keep from singing?”. Nostalgic as it may be to harken back to more physical activities in younger years, I am heartened when I recall the fun we had and the knowledge that those good times are still being experienced, albeit by those younger than me. I enjoy seeing the next generation and the next grab onto life and take it for a ride. It’s almost as good as doing it myself again.
Barbara
Rev. Barbara Dingwall Mills
Minister
Unitarian Universalist Church of Weymouth
617-347-6360
As I was sitting in my living room reading our novel for the upcoming book club, I suddenly noticed that I was seeing shadows on the walls. What a lovely surprise to find that the sun had returned. I am sure like me you have noticed that the angle of the winter sun is changing, giving us more sunlight hours each day. Although it is still winter, I’ll bet that you can feel the difference in the warmth of the sun also at this time of year. It is higher and stronger and reminds us that spring is on its way.
Always I think back to my days of skiing at Gunstock in New Hampshire in late February over school vacation when, at the end of my runs, I would find myself returning to the lodge after depositing my skis in the ski corral, looking forward to seeing my family and friends and to regaling one another with our afternoon exploits on the slopes. Our stories and feats were always made even better with a glass or two of wine or hot chocolate (usually the former, to be honest), a plate of steaming and decadent nachos loaded with gooey cheese and salsa, and to settling in to listen to some local musician playing guitar and singing tunes we all knew. Slowly we’d warm up and always we would welcome whoever showed up at our table. The first one in the lodge was responsible for claiming the entire table for 10 or 12, as we were well aware that starting around 3:00 and proceeding for the next half hour or so, we would be joined by more and more friends and family. We were boisterous, maybe a bit too loud, exhilarated, and absolutely exhausted, but never too tired to have some fun. The kids, ranging in age from three or four to teenagers, were allowed to come into the pub as long as at least one adult from our group was already there. I can still recall their eager faces as they gathered in the adjoining room, peering over the railings into the bar area to see if they recognized a grown-up’s face so that they too could come and join the camaraderie. There was lots of hugging and talking, some good-natured ribbing, and loads of congratulatory wishes when someone new at the sport had enjoyed a particularly daring and successful day.
On days like this, I miss those times. I miss the excitement, the fear, and the joy of playing outside. A few weeks ago I went for a walk along the Cape Cod Canal with two of my sisters and then for lunch at the Fishermen’s View in Sandwich overlooking the mouth of the canal. The day was not unlike today and after walking about a mile and a half, we all decided it was time to retrace our steps and eat. The breeze that day had been at our backs on our way down the canal, but, oh, it surely was not on our return. Even though we were dressed for the walk, our earlobes began to get cold, our eyes to run, and our cheeks to burn. We walked faster and faster, all the while rubbing our hands together in our gloves and glad that we had gone no farther than we had on our first leg of the walk. We were seated immediately in the restaurant and slowly we began to warm up. Just as I was about to comment to my sisters how the day and the conditions reminded me of our skiing exploits, they too were about to share the same thoughts. We all recalled how reminiscent it was of days gone by and how much fun we’d had together. Sandwiches may have replaced nachos and water wine, but the sweetness of exertion and fulfillment was just the same. No longer do we ski, but our kids all do and now they take their kids and meet their friends and probably feel just as we did all those years ago.
One of my favorite hymns is “My Life Flows on in Endless Song”. It speaks about all of the tumult and strife we all endure yet also of the fortitude and grace that guides us on our way through life. Each verse ends with the question “how can I keep from singing?”. Nostalgic as it may be to harken back to more physical activities in younger years, I am heartened when I recall the fun we had and the knowledge that those good times are still being experienced, albeit by those younger than me. I enjoy seeing the next generation and the next grab onto life and take it for a ride. It’s almost as good as doing it myself again.
Barbara
Rev. Barbara Dingwall Mills
Minister
Unitarian Universalist Church of Weymouth
617-347-6360