Advent Memories

Yesterday Emi and I shopped at Laurel Ridge in Gonzales
our tradition on the Friday after Thankisgiving.
They sell elegant, beautiful things there
especially at Christmas time.
On a table by itself without any fanfare or glitz
sat a small ornanment, shiny and golden.
It was a lion with a lamb beside it
and that triggered memories in me
of the year before last when Ron and I had been there together,
he in his wheelchair in the driveway
me inside and outside
and store clerks hovering around and bringing him selections
that would fit a small tree in his room.
He wanted a lion and a lamb ornament for Ginny.
She collects them
and he wanted to give her one.

He made his selection there in the driveway.
The clerks went inside and he burst into tears.
"What is it?" I asked him.
"I'm so alone," he said. "I have no family. They're all gone."
"You have me," I told him. "I'm not leaving."
"I couldn't bear it if something happened to you.
You're all I have."
"Don't worry," I said, "I won't leave you."

It is difficult to live without roots.
When your family is dead and you alone survive them
there is a gaping wound
like a large tree that has been uprooted
and exists forever with the shock of it
until it finally caves in and dies.
I suppose some trees go on to thrive
and others just live with the shock.

On some primal level
it was that enormous shock that welded Ron and me together.
It surfaced every year at Christmas time,
our longing for people long gone
our sadness over being left behind
and the weight of living this life.
We coped the best we could, he with alcohol and cigarettes
me with food and religion
to numb the silent suffering that never left our hearts
and bound us together,
and never more than Advent when the longings broke through the veil.

Advent

Advent dawned early this morning.
I was ready for it, welcomed it into my life
this birth of hope
that comes every year right after Thanksgiving.
There wasn't much fanfare in the pre-dawn hours -
just a re-checking of my meditation
where spell check found some glaring errors.

There was a sense of genuine anticipation in church.
People came with their poinsettas
and ornaments for the tree.
All the decorative elements were carefully laid out on the front pews
where no one ever sits.
Presbyterians tend to prefer the back seats.
It's easier to keep God at a distance there.

The pulpit hangings and the communion cloth were green.
There were flowers in fall colors on the plant stand.
From a distance we heard the gentle sounds of
O Come, O Come Emanuel
and so it began.

During the first hymn all the paraments changed from green to purple.
I went down the aisle and Carol Yeary helped me
change my green robe to a purple one.
(She had bought it for me as a gift
with some of her tax refund.)
We lit the Advent candle and prayed.
The poinsettas showed up during the children's sermon
when the children collected them and brought them forward
to decorate the chancel.

When it was time for the prayers of the people,
the ushers guided people by rows to the back of the church
where they hung their ornament on the tree
and prayed for whatever God prompted.

When the service was over the sanctuary was all decorated
dripping with the ancient symbolism
that reminds us of the light of Christ coming into our world.
I felt hope today, genuine hope,
that Christ dwells among us
and really will see us through.

The Unwanted Stone

My Forrest is laid up today
down at Methodist Hospital
full of pain medication
drinking lots of fluids
and trying to dislodge a 6 mm. kidney stone.

A hard place formed within him
and surfaced at eleven o'clock night before last.
He writhed in pain
all night long
and for most of the next day.

When he finally saw the doctor
there was only one thing to do -
head for the hospital
which he did.
I took him.
We waited patiently,
he in terrible pain,
me powerless to help much
except to get things rolling on getting him a room
and some medicine.

They put a "hat" in his toilet
designed to catch pieces of the stone
if it exited his body.
It has not.
So he'll come home now armed with meds
and wait.
and if the pain becomes uncontrollable
he'll go back in again.

I'm trying to write a sermon as I wait for his call
but it not easily birthed today.
It's on gratitude -
probably would be easier to write if it were about
my surly attitude.
Colds make me weary
and things going wrong with Forrest
make me anxious.

Every Saturday I don my Jonah suit
and want to run away from this.
It's too hard!
I'm not smart enough!
Please help!
No pearls of wisdom emerging today.
I can't think straight.
I guess I'll head for the hospital
and stew around there
until the muse decides to pay me a visit.

Illness

It came upon me gradually
a little scratch in the throat
some sneezing
lethargy.
I fought it,
refused to allow it to have its way with me.
Perhaps I should have given in
and gone to bed on time
instead of staying up late every night
and getting chilled
because the weather changed.
I didn't do that.
Now I have a full blown cold.
Not debilitating
I can walk around
The fever is low grade.
The starch is all gone however.

Now comes the dilemma.
With things piling up around me
and places that I need to be,
can I allow myself the luxury of rest?

I had a day off yesterday
but it was busy, very busy,
and I was so tired.
I have even less energy today.

What does it mean to care for oneself
when the world clamors at your door?
The to do list is endless.
The house is in squalor.

Only I can make that call.
The temptation is always great
to be super woman
taking charge
caring for the world
doing it all
meeting everyone's expectations
with a smile.

But I am tired, really tired.
It's too hard to be on the treadmill today.
Today will be a day of Sabbath rest
as I reflect on the meaning of Thanksgiving
and what I will share with my people
on Sunday.

I am grateful for the pause.
O God, come to me.
Pour your healing presence
into my parched soul
that I might become a vessel
that will glorify you.

Slacker

I'm beating myself up today big time.
The inner critic is having a field day with me.
Too fat
Too lazy
Too undisciplined
Too uninspired
Too nonspiritual
Shirking my responsibilities big time
when it comes to Presbytery.
Slacker!

Sigh.

I wonder sometimes if God doesn't sigh too.
How much non-function can I get by with
before God says enough is enough -
and deals with me
like the ancient Israelites who got hauled off to Babylon.
I don't know that God punishes us, really.
I think we punish ourselves.
We make our own bed.
I would like to lie down (or is it lay) in mine this morning,
but General Council looms on the horizon.

The problem so often in church work
especially Presbytery meetings
is that it has so little to do with anything of the soul.
I wometimes come away from meetings with my spirit parched.
The devotional is perfunctory
so that we can get on with what is really important.
The best that I can offer is that I show up.
I vote when it's called for
and ask questions on occasion.

I could speak up.
I could say I'm drowning
but I sit in silence.
What's that about?

There are some good things about being on General Council.
I marvel at others making sense
of complicated legal and financial matters.
I genuinely like the people.
I like to know what's going on.
I'm grateful for the work that's been accomplished
by others who are not put off by the head stuff.

I pray for this meeting
for all those who are dealing with these numbers
for those who are so willing to serve
and those who really aren't
but who show up because they are faithful.
Perhaps we are a glimmer of our faithful God
who shows up
and loves us
and beckons us on again
even when we are slacking.

The Amazing Faiths Dialogue

The other night I went out to dinner with Forrest,
an amazing dinner party if I call it what it was billed.
Ten of us plus a moderator
sat in a living room,
then dined together
and spoke of our faith.
There was a woman from the Holy Land
who had grown up Muslim
but has now added some other things,
a woman who grew up Jewish
but has found peace in Yoga
and certain Buddhist teachings,
a Roman Catholic couple
who do not believe in an interventionist God;
a younger (or younger than me) Episcopalian woman
fresh from a silent retreat at the Villa d'Matel;
another woman whose faith is in every tradition
(I think)
The Episcopalians who hosted us
(liturgically Episcopalian but Unitarian in thought)
and Forrest and me.
Whew!

Around servings of "poor man's stew"
and Greek salad
we drew cards,
then responded to the questions on the cards.
Mine was on forgiveness.
I spoke of forgiving my stepfather
at an herb restaurant in Cleveland, Texas
and how I often ask my board of elders to forgive me
and I them.

Forrest spoke of how he had been led by God
all of his life.
When probed,
he talked about his entrance to law school.

We meandered around a while
then had "free discussion" in the living room
which seemed the most relaxed of all.

What I took away from the evening,
besides the recipe for poor man's stew,
was an image given to me by the Jewish woman.
She said it is like a boat in the water.
We are the boat.
We are not of the water but in the water.
We don't want to fill the boat with water
or we will go under.
Our task is to remain the boat
in whatever body of water we find ourselves.
I like that.
That nugget and the recipe made the evening worthwhile.

Help me, O God, to stay afloat,
in this, the dawning of the busiest season of the year.

Welcome to America

I've been escorting Ugandans this week,
Hope and Julius,
their last names escape me.
I discovered they were home alone
after traveling long miles to get here
for Julius to speak at a conference
that turned out to be poorly attended.

Tuesday they spent the day with me,
and I saw America through their eyes.
I was proud of my country that day.
I took them with me to vote
and they were allowed into the room
and given a seat.
They waited patiently while I twisted and turned the rotary dial
to make my selections.

"We've been praying and fasting for this election for months,"
they told me.
"It is on the front page every day in Uganda."

"How many days before we know the winner?"
"We will know tonight," I told them.
"You will know before you go to sleep
and you will listen to two speeches - one from McCain
and one from Obama."
"Ohhhhh!!!" they said excitedly.

We headed for MD Anderson hospital and entered the parking garage.
"Oh!!" they exclaimed like children.
"We have never seen such a thing."
and when I parked on the roof they burst into laughter.
"Parking on a roof!!"
"I never heard of such a thing!!"

We visited Marcia Winkler Snyder
who was hospitalized for an infection
and getting the drugs via an IV.
She had a private room.
Again they were amazed:
"Twenty people would be in this room in Uganda!!
three children to a bed!!"
they prayed fervently for her
to the King of kings.
It was pure African, pure Pentecostal
Unusual for us Presbyterians,
but then they are not Presbyterian.

The cafeteria seemed overwhelming to them at lunchtime
so I took them to a Burger King
"American fast food" I told them
"very important for you to experience in America."
I ordered them a mustard whopper, fries and a drink.
They loved it.
then it was on to the Johnson Space Center.

"This is historical!! This is historical!!
Most people never come here!!"
Julius especially was wide eyed and childlike,
grinning from ear to ear and almost jumping with joy
when he saw the mock up moon rover,
the simulated stars in the sky,
the moon rocks,
the huge rockets.
He was impressed with the teamwork that it took
to put a man on the moon.
He loved the quotation from the plaque that the astronauts placed on the moon:
"We came in peace for all mankind."
Afterward I took them to Starbucks for lattes,
then home - a long trip because of the traffic.
Again, they laughed out loud when they experienced my GPS,
It was a great day.

So often we take things for granted in this country
"how disciplined we are" in Julius' words
"how orderly, kind and respectful."
"I have learned many things today to take home with me."

Every now and again
we make a difference in someone's life.
Tuesday was one of those days.
And it happened on another historic day,
the day we elected Barack Obama
the President of the United States.
I smiled when I went to sleep that night,
so very proud to be an American.