In the summer of 2005 I was on Chebeague Island, Maine preparing to spend a year as the interim associate minister at my home church. The year before we’d missed coming to the island because of my husband’s radiation treatment. During that time the town dock in front of our house had been rebuilt and its expanded parking took over much of our front yard. I had come to Chebeague hoping to escape the sense of being invaded by the stresses of living in a refugee welcome house and by Peter’s cancer and found instead the feeling of being invaded by the increased activity and noise at the dock. That summer was an emotional roller coaster as I came to grips with these emotions and got ready to step into my new ministry.