Christmas Eve, 2013

This morning I awakened and knew that I would live.
Gratitude streamed into my heart like the rays of sun that pierced the sheer curtains in my bedroom.
I've been felled by a bad case of stomach flu
or food poisoning.
I don't know which.
It doesn't matter.


What I do know is that hope has been born within me today
and good health will surely follow.


For three days I lay in darkness
unable to sit up
unable to eat much
unable even to talk because of the enormous effort it generated.
powerless
vulnerable
I could only cry out to the one who is all powerful.


One word prayers were all I could muster.
They were enough.
The green shoots pushed their way through sometime around 1:30 am this morning.


This is Christmas, isn't it?
Into the bleakness of the night
the hardened soil
and the great abyss
God comes ever so gently.
Christ is born.


I'm going to make it.
Thank you.

Christmas Letter 2013

Christmas is 12 days long
Right?
I'm not late yet.

The best part of 2013?
for me anyway -
Amazing vacations
 Maine with the whole family
 and mystical Cape Cod
 Lobster!
 and sunsets where the sky was seamless with the ocean.

A trip to the national parks of the southwest when the government shut down
 We had Zion National Park to ourselves!
 No tourists crawling the place
 Bliss!

Oscar fun at Emi's house
 themed menu
 Oscar Bingo and bleating goats
 glittery things all around
 alternately trashing and cheering what we saw.

There were tough times.
Forrest had health issues
 two surgeries
 emergency trips to M.D. Anderson
 scary!
He's fine now.
Our kids were champions through it all.

For me the bad was often insomnia
 dragging myself through the days
 and thrashing through the nights.

God is faithful and good.
We're still here on Carnegie Street
 and grateful for your friendship.

This comes with love
 and prayers for an excellent 2014.

Ike

I like Ike.

It was the first political campaign I ever remembered

sitting in the back seat of the car

while my parents went into the voting precinct

to cast their ballot for Ike.

I've never heard that name

unless it referred to our former president,

who won that day.

A different Ike is courting us this season.

He's in the Gulf of Mexico

bellowing His presence

like the eerie sounds you hear on Halloween.

Houston is evacuating.

took me a while to get home this morning.

It's getting worse they tell me - the traffic.

The winds will start around noon tomorrow

and the rains with them.

They'll beat us and leave us for dead

if they have their way.

We've been through this drill so many times before.

Ike will not triumph over us.

He's just a blowhard, a good excuse for an afternoon off today.

We shall greet him courageously and defend ourselves.

We may end up battered and bruised,

but in the process we shall discover strength we didn't know was there.

We'll emerge from this stronger and wiser

and full of stories

about how Ike tried to conquer us

and we beat his ass.

I look forward to all the stories

of how God has truly been in our midst

and how God will help us in the recovery.

Alzheimer's Disease

The nursing home called again last night.
She had crawled into bed with a strange man
thinking he was her lover from years' past.

Last week she awakened all the residents at two in the morning
serving them coffee
and telling them to rise and shine.
"The ship is arriving at port!
There's a full day ahead!"

She told me on Thursday that she was pregnant again
at eighty-three years of age.
Strange men had held her down
while a nurse inserted a tiny fetus.
Now the child grew within her.
She's thinking of a lawsuit because she was violated.
No one had asked her permission.

My memories of Charlene have never been bizarre.
smart and wily
salty and adventurous
The Charlene I knew would be horrified at her current state of affairs!

Now she wastes away
mentally
and physically.

What will we remember after Alzheimer's is long forgotten?

The Pope's Retirement

The Pope retired this week.
The fun comments happened immediately:
"Wow! That sets the bar pretty high on giving things up for Lent."
"Is he cleared for sex now?"
"Wearing all that heavy gold tired him out."
pictures of Eggs benedict with papal hats - ex benedict!
get it?

My favorite was Stephen Colbert
who said the retirement may prompt a "Catholic free for all"
where the devout will be
"passing out Pez dispensers full of birth control pills
using the Lord's name in vain,
coveting thy neighbor's wife,
killing anybody you want.
It'll be like being Presbyterian."

Benedict tells the world that he stepped down for the good of the church.
He's old.
He's tired.
I understand that.
I did the same thing myself not that long ago.
The church deserved better than an aging pastor
dragging herself around with developing health issues.

The lines were drawn pretty clear for me in retirement.
don't show up
ever.
don't act as a minister anymore around those people.
Make sure your family stays away too.
The rules are for my protection
and theirs too
even though they smart sometimes
and hurt our feelings.
Divorce is painful whatever the circumstances.

For Presbyterians there's a nice orderly process when one retires.
We get a pension.
We get a little ceremony at a Presbytery meeting.
even a standing ovation.
and then we're done.
We can pretty well do whatever we want after that
within reason of course
as long as it's decent and in order.

Not so for the Pope.
There aren't any guidelines.
they all have to be made up now.
where to live, what to wear,
health care?
It's much more complicated for him
than it is for us,
Us Presbyterians with our Pez containers.

The Cow in the Tutu on MLK Day.

My morning Scripture reading was Luke 9:12-17, the story where Jesus was confronted with 5000 hungry people and told his disciples to feed them. This is my response ss I entered the story:

"You give them something to eat."
Me?
Are you talking to me?
If you are, you're talkin' crazy talk.
I can't.
I don't have the resources.
I think it's impossible.
You're a crazyman, Jesus.
crazy.
certifiable.
crazy!

I might as well put on a tutu and dance for the crowd.
Your request is that preposterous.
Don't you know what you're asking?
Do you not understand?
5 tiny loaves will barely feed my family
much less 5000.

"I'm not crazy.
Put on that tutu and dance.
Give them something to eat."

There's a line in the sand now.
I see it prety clear.
I hear Martin Luther King in my head.
"You don't have to see the future to take the first step."
or something like that.

Do I believe God will honor that first step?
Can I find the courage within my scaredy cat self
to make some little movement beyond selfishness today?

That's really the issue.
I don't have to change the world.
I just have to take the first step.
I put on my tutu and dance.

Jesus and the Movies

My Iphone alerted me that the Oscar nominations are out.
I raced to the computer to find them
still wearing my nightgown
with sleep in my eyes.
What greeted me were pictures of Jesus
one by one flashing on the screen
leftovers from sermons I gave long ago.

Now settled back in my chair with Oscar knowledge
Jesus' face comes to me -
the ugly one that scholars say is probably the most accurate
a favorite with loving eyes and a shawl on his head.

Jesus
maligned by so many
always touches my heart.
every single time.
"Come to me," he says.
I see his face.
I sense his presence.
I settle in to that.
My day will be different now.

Who cares about the Oscars anyway
and why should we?
What does that have to do with God?

An Oscar nomination pegs great art.
Good art touches the heart
and moves us through whatever form it takes.
It brings us closer to God
reflects God's ways and ours
and helps us to see ourselves.
What touches us and makes us cry
is the place where we need to do emotional and spiritual work.

Movies to me are a special form of God's grace
sacramental sometimes.
All human stories have spiritual themes
whether they are real life
or imagined through a clever writer
and captured on film.

In dark times of my life
when I have felt alone and frightened
when Scripture lay lifeless on the page
a movie has led me back to God.
If I could see grace operating in a character's life
I could begin to believe
that grace would enter mine.

I don't criticize movies too often.
Mostly I go with an open heart
asking God to come to me
and help me see how God is at work.
Even in vile films there are slices of grace
just like real life.
I look for them.
They lead me back to Scripture
and link to my own life.

I'm behind in movie going this season.
Soon I'll catch up.
Now to find a movie going buddy
and a group in which to talk things over.

Limbo Land

Limbo land.
I live in limbo land.
Finding a church home is difficult once you've been ordained.
I don't seem to fit well in my home church.
I cannot go back to the one I left.
It's too soon.
It might hurt their process.
They can't move into the future if they're still holding on to the past.
Neither can I.
I was a pretty powerful presence there.

Last night I dreamed that Kathy Bryant came to visit me.
She's a Lucia friend, another minister.
I took her to see my old church
although it was now located in a valley with a mountain view.
The halls were empty but Belinda was there.
She gave me a smile and a hug.
The Hispanic pastor and his wife smiled and waved.

We walked down empty hallways
until we foound a large classroom full of people singing.
There was so much joy in that room!
Kathy went in to see it, leaving me outside.
She marveled at their enthusiasm and sense of God's presence.
I quietly stood outside eating the cornbread
I had stuffed in my pocket.
I realized I had been holding my church back with my need to control.
Now the lid was off.
They were flourishing - so much better without me
but also because of me.
I left without speaking to anyone
and ate my cornbread,
offering a choice slice of it to Kathy
as we entered the future together.

At some point God will lead me out of Limbo Land.
For now, most days, I am content to lollygag my way through it.
Maybe I should make some cornbread.
It might help my process.

Our Weekend

The conversation happened over breakfast.
"There's some blood in my urine this morning," he announced simply
over a plate of eggs and potatoes.
"I will probably need to call the doctor.
Too bad it's the weekend.
These things always happen on the weekends when offices are closed."

A little blood?
The bathroom betrayed his nonchalance.
There was clotted blood everywhere!
on the toilet
the floor
the walls
his clothing.

We made the call and headed to the nearest emergency clinic.
more blood
great pain
as nurses struggled to stabilize him.
They said, "It's the proton therapy he received for cancer.
We see this all the time -
clots in the bladder.
Go home and see the doctor on Monday."

But things worsened in the afternoon:
massive blood loss
terrible pain
extreme discomfort
anger and frustration

We called the doctor again.
The one who responded was smart-alecky.
"That's it!" we thought
and frantically headed for MD Anderson.

Saints!
The Anderson people are saints all right.
They inserted IV fluids and calmed us down.
We waited.

Once cancer strikes, life changes.
It shakes its finger and makes threats.
The predator lurks
and waits
and can pounce unexpectedly
altering every plan.

Speeding through the dark night the questions came:
Is this the time?
Is this the beginning of the end?
Will we have the faith to endure this with grace?

It turned out to be a simple infection easily treated with antibiotics.
a best case scenario.
We limped home, exhausted.

Cancer comes with many gifts,
not just expert doctors and compassionate nurses
who do the work of miracles in alleviating pain and suffering.

The gift for us was the emotional and physical care from our children.
Sweet and concerned Emi, involved and texting from Chicago
Trevor, dear Trevor,
with us through it all
and Kim, our beloved Kim.
They stayed with us for hours deep in the night,
slept at our house
then picked up Forrest and brought him home the next morning.
They bought prescriptions for antibiotics
and stayed with us all day.
Even our granddaughter Emilie came.

In the midst of all the scary stuff
their presence was the face of Christ.
We were blessed.
We are blessed.

I know one day we shall all leave this earth.
Our departure may indeed involve a lot of fear
and pain and suffering.
We don't get to choose how we exit.

But this little scare showed me how much God is with us,
even during this time when we have no faith community.
Our children will help us make good decisions.
Like God, they will be there.
And knowing that makes all the difference.

Pondering with Mary, the Mother of Jesus

Gene Brodt charmed us all with his memorable quotes and storytelling.
One day he fell.
It was the beginning of the end for him.
He eventually landed in a nursing home,
and I brought him communion every month.

One day he conversed at length with the elderly woman I had brought with me,
ignoring me in the process.
He apologized.
"Please forgive me," he said.
"I'm an old man.
Everything has been taken away now, even my health.
All I have left are the memories, and they comfort me.
When someone shows up who shares the same memories, it is pure bliss."

Remembering him, I think of Mary, the mother of Jesus.
Mary cherished her memories, treasured them, pondered them in her heart.
Surely they gave her strength in the dark days,
recalling how God showed up and blessed her child through the shepherds.
Maybe she thought, "If God was with us then, then God must be with us now."
The memories brought hope and faith
that something fresh and wonderful would eventually unfold.

So how did God show up for me this season?
I slowed down, way down.
I didn't feel responsible for seeing Christmas brought to an entire community.
I enjoyed it, savored it.
At times I thought my heart would burst with joy.

And now like Mary, I have the memories although they are very different from hers:
Sister Mary grounding me in Scripture and faith
Evanston with my daughter and all three of my grandchildren
Magical shopping trips and gingerbread.
Fabulous music there!
Sam Ramey's "O Holy Night" still rings in my ears.
cards and greetings from friends and Facebook
How I love Facebook!
The candlelight service at Heritage with trumpet and cello.
Special time with Forrest, Cindy, Trevor, Kim and Emilie.
beautiful, wonderful gifts chosen and made with such loving care
and feeling so very loved.
leisure
a new excitement over art
enjoying my pretty home with no more leaks.

Like Mary, I feel blessed among women,
although unlike her, it's been a pretty self indulgent season.
At some point God will move me forward into fresh ministry.
I feel it.
But for now, I sit with Mary, the mother of Jesus
and ponder all these things within my heart
And later they will strengthen me for whatever comes ahead.

Christmas Eve 2012

The beginning of Advent is always reflective for me.
I watch.
I wait.
I prepare for the birth of something new
and life changing
and holy within me.
Advent has more to do with the inner landscape than the outward manisfestation.

At some point joy enters my heart.
It never fails.
It comes as gift
and turns me in a different direction.

I know there is terrible suffering in the world.
Some days it is hard not to be felled by it.
I carry it too closely in my heart.
If I'm not careful I forget
that the Christian message is joy, even in suffering
even in the midst of illness and hardship of every kind.

Beneath the sorrow lies a golden thread.
God is at work lighting the darkness.
When I am still and when I remember, I tap into that.
My soul is strengthened and blessed.
Only then can I turn to face the world with love.

To me, this is the gift of Christmas,
God's coming to us in stillness
in a most unexpected way
lighting our path
giving us strength and courage
birthing something completely new
and enabling us to turn and face the world with love.

May we take time to allow God to come to us this holy day and night.
And may the beauty of Christ's birth bring us joy
and grace to live into the days to come.

Devotion

She came in quietly
Sitting in a back pew in front of me.
She sat quietly as the wedding party exited.
Then she began her slow journey
By dropping to her knees and knee waking
To the saint who beckoned her.

St. Jude, patron saint of hopeless causes, awaited her at the front.
Tall, massive, holding a likeness of Christ over his heart, he drew her forward.
babies crying, a homily underway, people shuffling in the background -
None of it mattered to her.

Focused, she half crawled to the waiting statue.
When she arrived she offered her bouquet of red and white flowers
And knelt before him.

A friend told me once that her world religion class visited many worship centers one semester.
Of all of them
Hands down
No competition at all
The Presbyterians were the most boring.

We've put our entire emphasis on thinking
And hearing the word of God.
Can we even imagine the heartfelt devotion of walking on our knees to the God we worship?

I wonder what it would take for my devotion to increase.
What would cause me to walk on my knees publicly,
Begging God for an answer I could live with?

God is calling us to reformation again,
Maybe asking us to leave our Protestant reserve behind,
To loosen up a little,
Have more heart
And laughter
And fresh ways of expressing ourselves.

Hmmmm. What would this look like for a community?
It 's fun to ponder.

Reflections from Colorado

I have written so many Facebook updates about our misfortunes this trip. What I have not described are the many joys and aha moments that overshadow all the adversity:
Gorgeous sunrises and sunsets
The strength and good cheer of this remarkable family
Family meals on the deck as the day draws to a close
So much laughter
And sense of adventure
Fabulous vistas that fill our souls with beauty
The special God moments that seem tailored just for us.
For instance, one of my goals on this trip was to see a different form of wildlife ever day. On Tuesday when I was housebound because of doctot's orders, we sat outside on the deck for our evening meal. Five mule deer graciously and slowly meandered through the field in front of us. It was the first time we had seen mule deer.

We have seen gorgeous rainbows, sunsets, and sunrises. We have laughed well even with blinding headaches and wounds from the day's events. We have loved one another fiercely through all the challenges. We have owned our feelings and honored them. Truly God has been with us in special ways, and I am blessed to be the matriarch of this clan.

I know a lot of people in Colorado have suffered this season. They have lost their homes, evacuated and seen terror first hand. We pray for them. We pray for all those who are suffering through no fault of their own.

At the same time I am aware of a current of goodness that runs deeply underneath and within us all and upholds us regardless of our circumstances. Every adversity is a call to move deeper into the life of God who holds us, will never abandon us, and who will empower us to meet life's challenges.

My faith has been strengthened this trip. My spirit is renewed. I am deeply grateful. May the great blessing of this vacation journey show forth in acts of loving kindness.

Advent

Fall finally comes
signaling the branches that it is time to let go.
They detach easily
gently
gracefully
preparing themselves for God's new season.
God asks me where I too must let go
to prepare for the next season of life.

Repentance doesn't involve remorse and wailing usually.
It can be gently shedding all that prevents
God's new thing from being born.

I ponder fall's lesson from the trees
as I prepare my heart for the coming of the Christ child.

The Statue

He stands there
offering his hand in blessing
with rays of love and light streaming from his heart.
Mostly I ignore him
so eager am I to begin my day.

Too much of my life is spent on auto pilot
crossing tasks off my to do list
daydreaming
lolly gagging (my favorite!)
thinking, thinking
fretting.

Jesus stands there in the midst of it
mouthing the words
Come to me, you who are harried and helpless.
Come to me.
Receive my blessing.
Receive my strength.
I drive by mindlessly
my head filled with all manner of things.

How often I ignore God's presence surrounding me
beckoning me
offering help
speaking words of wisdom and blessing.
I am so caught up in the need to be productive
and relevant
that I forget to notice.

This week was different.
I saw him standing there, all 10 feet of him.
I received the blessing.
I think it helped.
I blew kisses as I headed south into my day.

The New Med

Sometimes in the night my legs get restless and want to dance.
No! I scream inside myself
I'm tired!
Let's just go to sleep!
But they keep up their begging
relentlessly
until I am finally out of bed and on my feet.

It's annoying
really annoying
to go through life without much sleep.
It causes all manner of poor behavior the next day.

So yesterday I discussed this with my pretty teenaged doctor
or she looks like a teenager anyway.
Take a pill, she said.
It will make a difference.
She wrote out a prescription.

It made a difference all right!
Nausea
crippling fatigue
insomnia
drowsiness going on for 17 hours now.

Why is the cure worse than the disease?
I'd rather be dancing through the night.

My Sabbath Day

relaxed
lazy
limp
riding the waves
carried gently away
far from the shore
floating
weightless
held by a force greater than I

I am content
not to think
or plan
or worry
just to be today
as I am
in all my glorious sloth.

I am open
ready to receive
whatever you have for me.

Blow gently, my love
lest I topple over.

10A and My Church

I was used to the pastor meetings on the subject of gay ordination
quiet, calm, respectful.
so I brought the issue to my church.

There's a difference between dialogue and debate.
Debate seeks to persuade another.
It's closed to other opinions.
It's more interested in championing a point of view.

Dialogue involves listening to another.
It seeks to understand
and to find common ground.

I thought we would have a dialogue last Wednesday night.
I was wrong.
Gay ordination is a subject of debate in my little congregation.
Some people may leave the PCUSA over it.
Here's why they tell me:

We've strayed too far from the clear mandates of Scripture.
From now on General Assembly will force this down our throats.
There's no such thing as a monogamous gay.
We are encouraging sexual experimentation.

My son is gay, an elder told us.
He is the kindest, most gentle man you will ever meet.
He would make a fine elder.
And from others -
Every gay person I have ever known is kind and loving.
There is no difference. We are all God's children.
My gay friends are too scared to come to church.
A gay minister has spoken in this church and been well received
even though no one knew he was gay.

We are not of one mind on this issue.
We are divided within our congregation
as we are within the Presbytery
as we are within the entire PCUSA.

It's time to breathe
really breathe
the life giving flow of the Holy Spirit.
We dare not move forward
wherever forward is
without taking deep breaths
really deep breaths.

In life and in death we belong to God
In our struggles and fights we belong to God.
In our good times and tension filled times
God will never let us go.
I cling to that
as I take another deep breath.

Visual Prayer for Mother's Day

This morning I held my two little creations before me.
They are both visual prayers
cut from black card stock
and magazines.
One is liturgical
all purple with bright yellow spashes
a prayer for Easter to bloom in my heart.

The other is the bliss of mother love
mutual love
between a mother tiger and her cub.

missing my mom today
missing my son and daughter
and the times we held each other close.

asking God to hold me today
in strong mother love
and Easter joy
as we birth
yet another sermon.

Easter Memories

I awakened this morning with gratitude
full and blessed
to be a part of this wonderful world
in love with Christ
and all the people in it.

I always worry a little on Good Friday.
That day is dark
lifeless.
Depression stalks me.
The grief becomes overwhelming
every
single
year.
I birth an Easter sermon
in the midst of the gloom.

It is hard to write about Easter joy
when I am still in the tomb with Jesus.
I fret.
I judge myself harshly.
I worry.
And then along comes Easter morning.

When we drove into the parking lot
surprise lilies lined the pathway to church.
One bloomed in an old tree stump
and a white cross proclaimed
"He Is Risen!"
for all the world to see.

Inside came all the flowers
along with the great Easter hymns
as we filled the cross and the pews.
People who normally can't or don't come
made an effort to be here.
Extended families sat together.
There were lots of babies.

We sang.
I preached.
Tyler sang with the big voice.
God was glorified
and my spirit came alive again.

And now today
this first new day after Easter
I am grateful
profoundly grateful
and the world seems alive with possibility
as I tackle my cluttered house.

What a differnce a day makes!
May Easter hope arise within us all
and may our lives trumpet fresh new life.