Archives for May 2011

Change in Plans – on the road again…

May 18, 2011 By
Re-working an old post with new photos from this day in 2009, all to join in the One Word Blog Carnival at Peter Pollock’s site.  Couldn’t find a widget to post here, but check out his site at http://peterpollock.com/2011/05/road-blog-carnival/   This week’s word?  ROAD

A funny thing happened on the way to see 
my spiritual director this afternoon: 
he didn’t show up. 
This is the second time he has forgotten I was coming, 
but the first time he was not to be found on the premises anywhere.

And I come quite a long way – about 115 miles.

But you know…it was an absolutely gorgeous day, 
warm and clear…my camera was in the back seat…
so I had an adventure. 
I surprised myself by having absolutely 
NO sense of frustration, of time wasted, 
of expectations not met.
Maybe that was even the best part of the day – 
I just had this upwelling sense of serendipitous surprise. 
Hasn’t been a whole lot of that in my life of late, 
so all-in-all, this was a change in plans 
I was grateful to experience.

Just as I was getting in my car to leave 
the Benedictine monastery in San Luis Obispo
where Abbott David lives, 
another member of their community drove up. 
He was slightly apologetic for my ‘trouble,’ but I said to him 
(and I really, truly did mean it) 
that it was not a problem to me – 
that I just figured God had something else in mind 
for me to do today. 
And what a lovely gift the day proved to be.
I turned left instead of my usual heading-home right 
at the end of their long country road 
and just went where the road went. 
Wandered a bit through the Cal Poly campus, 
found my way to Highway 1 and headed out to Morro Bay, 
where I drove out to the rock and all along the waterfront embarcadero, stopping at several places to take a few photos.
Then I rounded the peninsula and drove out to Avila Beach,
with its two long piers out into the Pacific.
The sky was simply glorious.
The late afternoon winter light was so long and low, 
there were hardly any people around 
and I stopped at a favorite restaurant for a shrimp louie salad and fresh cornbread when I finished. 

The sun had just set when I turned the bend 
from SLO to Shell Beach, 
creating a beautiful silhouette 
against the bluffside trees and fences. 
A few more pictures and I headed home, 
tired but happy and grateful for a small piece of adventure.














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Scripture and a Snapshot

May 18, 2011 By

Linking tonight with a new (to me), very cool website – Katie Lloyd Photography and her weekly invitation to submit a favorite verse and photo: 




Sanctuary of Makawao Union Church, Makawao, Maui, Hawaii
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Baby Hair

May 18, 2011 By
Every Wednesday,
we have a delightful small visitor.
Next week, she will be 15 months old 
and when she’s in our home,
we are on constant alert.
She is bright, 
a great eater,
not so much a sleeper,
is talking up a storm
(though 95% of it is syllabic sound with inflection only,
and it’s anybody’s guess what she’s actually saying),
and she clearly knows what she likes…
and what she doesn’t like.
She definitely likes Poppy (whom she calls mah-ma,
no matter how many times we repeat, “Poppy;”
“Nana” she gets, but not the ‘p’ word).
And she definitely likes hats,
frequently going to her bag to get out her own,
 which action can loosely be interpreted as:
“Don’t you think it’s time to go outside now?”
And this girl loves her binky.
Between our house and her own,
she probably has about two dozen – 
and any of them will do, thank you very much.
In fact, she often enjoys popping one out and
putting another one right back in.
She looks a lot like her daddy (who is our son),
and has been blessed (cursed?)
with his flyaway, very fine hair.
It is constantly in her sweet face.

 Last week, she graciously allowed me to experiment
with a brightly colored elastic band 
which I found stuffed in a drawer.
(Sadly, I have a lot of things stuffed in a lot of drawers!)
And it worked!
Her hair stayed out of her face for…
let’s see…
about 5 minutes, I think.
Just until she dived head first into the couch cushion,
and out it slid.
I think I’ll just let it fly tomorrow.
She is our favorite playmate these days,
whether her hair is perfectly coiffed or not.
A regular reminder of …
joy,
beauty,
winsomeness,
open-heartedness,
and Love, with a capital “L.”

Linking tonight with L.L. and Laura and their wonderfully written blogs:

On In Around button
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What Does Obedience Look Like?

May 18, 2011 By
Offering this humbly at Ann’s site this afternoon, where so many share their Walk with Him Wednesdays:

What if…
instead of something that seems to us 
so often to be burdensome,
troubling,
almost impossible to do,
actually looked more like
what these beauties do…
…like waiting patiently for the food we need;
…like sipping nectar from exactly the right trumpet flower;
…or watchfully surveying the landscape;
…or keeping our feathers clean and ready for action;
…or singing the lovely song we were designed to sing;
…or wading right in when the water is right;
…or wisely hunkering down when it isn’t;
…or waiting for just the right moment 
to use the beak we’ve been given;
…or finding a companion-on-the-way, 
someone to help us be as strong and sure as we can be;
…someone to help us flex our wings, to practice, 
to keep ourselves ready and in shape;
…so that, when the time is right, we can FLY,
just as God intended us to do.

I’ve been pondering this verse for a long time:

“So even though Jesus was God’s son, 
he LEARNED OBEDIENCE
from the things he suffered.”
Hebrews 5:8

Jesus learned obedience?
Have you ever really thought about 
that subject with that verb?
If Jesus came not only to save us from our sins
(and he surely did that),
if Jesus came not only to heal us of our brokenness,
(and he surely did that),
if Jesus came to model for us what an 
authentic human life looks like
(and he completely did that),
then there is something vitally important for us 
in this short verse.
Jesus is the only fully human being
to ever walk the dusty byways of our planet.
The only one 
who fulfilled God’s original design and desire 
for us, we who are in-God’s-image-creatures.
He was the only one 
who really, truly and always did
what comes naturally,
just like the birds of the air do.
In living out a perfectly human life,
in living and in learning what it means to be ‘obedient’
to God’s dream for humankind,
Jesus shows us the way through.
Jesus shows us how to live a full and rich life,
not just in spite of our sufferings,
but in the midst of them.
And even though he was a learner,
as we are all learners,
he never faltered, wavered,
or succumbed to the ‘bentness’ of our nature,
that off-centeredness,
that unnaturalness that causes us 
to do harm to ourselves and others.
Rather,
he listened to the humming core of his own humanity,
he stayed in tune with himself and with the Father,
he resisted the lure of anything that 
fell outside the bounds of 
what comes naturally.
And obedience,
perfect obedience,
just flowed out of him.
Oh, may I learn to do 
what I was designed and redeemed to do:
to live a fully natural human life.
To listen to the song of salvation that 
the Spirit sings ever so sweetly in me.

Linking with Michelle, Suzannah and Jen tonight, with thanks for their consistently kind invitation to do so:

 so much shouting, so much laughter


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Silent Saturday: refreshment, renewal, reminder

May 14, 2011 By
It was a cool and foggy morning and I arrived 
30 minutes early. 
That almost never happens. 
Setting out lovely snacks and interesting reading material was a retired clinical psychologist who also happens to be a nun.  She was gracious and welcoming as I found my way into a high-ceilinged room – a room that used to be 
the ballroom of a mansion, 
then a chapel for the novitiate 
of the Sisters of the Immaculate Heart, 
and now is used for all kinds of retreat gatherings.
This lovely, comforting, renewing and reviving space is located less than 3 miles from my home.
So close.
Yet I’ve been so far.
I’d been here to work,
to lead retreats, but this…
…this was my first visit to their monthly 
Silent Saturday offerings, 
where centering prayer is practiced in community.
This is what I’ve hungered for,
hungered for a long time now.
Time to be quiet, 
time to center down,
to hunker down,
to re-visit myself 
and to re-connect with God.
There were about 25 of us in the circle, 
mostly middle-aged (and beyond) women 
with a smattering of men.
This is what happened:
3 different 30-minute spaces for silent, centering prayer;
3 times of silent, 
very slow and deliberate walking around 
just outside our gathering space;
and 45 minutes for individual reflection,
anywhere on the grounds.
It was perfect.
Restful, beautiful, tender.
Loveliness all around, no matter where your eye landed.
Color, over and over, brightening a gray day.

I sat under a sheltering oak, far back in the corner of 
a small courtyard.
Architectural details added to the 
beauty of the day and to the depth of the experience.
Beauty somehow speaks to the deepest parts of me –
whether that beauty is divinely created 
or humanly crafted.

My soul needed this day.
And so did my body.
I will be back next month.

Later that day, I continued this mini-retreat 
by driving down to the ocean, 
always a source of life and hope and strength for me.
I took a long walk, soaking in the sights 
and the sounds 
and the smells 
of this wintry afternoon 
in the middle of spring.

And along the way, I was reminded 
of some of the interesting anomalies 
of living in this celebrity-laden, 
resort-funded community.
Where else but here would you find 
tour groups on Segueways??
A little levity is always a good thing.
Somehow seeing those hard-hatted travelers
segueing their way around my favorite parking spot – 
well, it offered a bright smiling moment,
a connection to all the strange wonders of
life on the central coast of California.

Succulents shaped like roses,
sandstone cliffs bracketed by potted geraniums,
the grace and fortitude of an old Monterey cypress,
the regal splendor of a well-trimmed King palm,
a trio of friends walking down the beach.
All of it,
all of it spoke to me of grace, 
of wonder, 
of Presence.
God is good.  All the time.
Last Saturday was a day to revel in that truth,
to celebrate it,
to mark it into my heart.

And God met me there – 
in every silent moment,
in every step walked,
in every color relished,
in every blessed breath.
What is there to say but,
“Thank you!”

Because I’ve had blogger problems for much of this week, I’ve just got this one post – so I’m spreading it around a bit by linking with L.L. Barkat at Seedling in Stone On In Around button
and with Suzannah at So Much Shouting So Much Laughter;

so much shouting, so much laughter


and with Bonnie over at the Faith Barista, too:



FaithBarista_FreshJamBadgeG

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Five Minute Friday: Deep Breath…

May 14, 2011 By


Linking up with Lisa-Jo over at The Gypsy Mama one more time, this week on kind of a strange prompt.  No real clue where I’m going, but here are 5 minutes – unedited, unstopped, leave-them-as-they-lay words on the topic:


Inspiration – breathing in, deeply.  Where have I found it over this life of mine?  More places than I can count or remember.  


First swim test – overwhelmed by water, breathing in an element that cannot sustain human life, being lifted out, patted firmly on the back and released to my mom’s welcoming arms and worried face.


First public speaking – deep breath in, stand up before the assembled faculty at my elementary school at the tender age of 11 and recite a long poem, complete with inflection and gestures.  Receiving applause, pleased smiles, congratulations.  Breathing in acceptance.


Taking the SAT – deep breath in, actually enjoying the wordplay and essay writing; detesting the math.  Breathing in knowledge of my strong – and my weak – suits.


Meeting my husband at the tender age of 17, literally gasping for air when I saw those big brown eyes across the proverbial crowded room.  Not knowing how many years lay ahead for us, just breathing in that face.


Seeing each of my children as they pushed their way into light and space and air.  BREATHE deeply, little one.  And me breathing them into my heart and soul and sinew.


Entering seminary at the age of 44 – DEEP breath, filled with trepidation, wondering, “Can I cut it?”  “Will I meet God here?”  Breathing out joy at all that I learned, all that changed both inside and out.


STOP

Photos and italics added later
Celebrating 45 years of marriage (and then there were those 2.5 years of courtship…)

My ‘baby’ holding his baby.  Isn’t it amazing how that works??

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The Beauty of Five – a late mother’s day reflection

May 12, 2011 By
Linking this small playful glimpse at 5 year olds  with Laura over at The Wellspring for her weekly gathering:  

The work-out room becomes a place of celebration,
a space for small children to sing loudly, 
recite poetry and look adorable.
Grandchild #6 (and grandgirl #1) 
is finishing her final year of pre-school at our local YMCA. 
And today was the special Mother’s Day 
performance and luncheon.
Wednesday is one of the days we keep grandgirl #2,
so I bundled her into the car,
along with all the assorted paraphernalia required,
and headed over to the park where the Y is located.
Lilly was excited to be there, 
Mama took a long lunch break from her patients so she could join us, 
and we all had a lovely time.

Gracie was decked out as a dinosaur hunter,
and along with the kids on either side of her in the picture to the right, she recited a 
short Shel Silverstein poem called, “Brontosaurus.”

 When they began to sing their wonderful songs 
(my personal favorite – “A Bolt of Cloth” – 
about sewing, accompanied by a wide range 
of sound effects and hand motions),
I put on my long lens and just enjoyed shooting 
close-ups of this amazing face.
 What is it about five that is so magical?
Wide eyes, open to wonder;
a love of music and movement
and no insecurities to inhibit joyful expressions of both;
an ever-changing array of facial expressions,
moving across the planes and angles of a face 
no longer bearing any signs of baby or toddler.
 We have two 5-year-olds in our family circle right now so we can enjoy these wonders twice-over.

Five is marked by an ever-increasing vocabulary,
an inquisitive mind,
an encyclopedic memory,
the vestiges of ‘baby talk’ creeping through from time to time,
a marvelous sense of self, 
and a real delight in wordplay.
Five loves the limelight – in small doses.
Five can be tender, affectionate, thoughtful.
Five can sometimes be stunningly insightful,
finding truth with a capital “T” in stories they hear,
events as they happen,
songs they sing.

And five not only can be,
but IS
delightful, delicious and tons of fun.
Thanks, Gracie, for inviting me to your special day.
I love you!

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That Nagging Inner Voice…

May 10, 2011 By
Signing on with Michelle tonight over at Graceful for her “Hear it on Sunday, Use it on Monday” meme and with Jen at Finding Heaven and her soli deo gloria sisterhood:

These reflections are written after an absolutely delightful Mother’s Day spent with all three of my children, their significant others and 7 of our 8 fabulous grandchildren. They are written with a sad sigh of frustration at how hard it often is for me to take in the good stuff with which I’ve been blessed.  Too often, I spend far too much energy picking apart my responses/words/thoughts/reactions and then hurling invective at myself. It’s amazing to me how quickly such inner negativity can turn a beautiful spring day into a wintry experience.  So today, I’ve been praying my way through some of the same stuff I’ve been praying my way through for a very long time now!  I am happy to report that these stretches are fewer and further apart than they once were and that the remedy suggested here has proven increasingly helpful and true for me.

You’d think the noise on the inside might decrease as you age.  After all, a long life is supposed to bring with it some sort of wisdom, right?  It seems only fair that there be at least that much recompense for all the assorted insults that come with the advances of time and gravity.   I guess I had hoped that by this point in my life, the inner enemy might have calmed down, gotten quieter, responded to a firm word of caution.

But, no-o-o-o-o…
It’s been rearing its ugly head big-time in the last few weeks/months.   Caught in the betwixt and between of a major life transition, I’ve had many unpleasant visits from that inner critic, parent, authority figure, negative noise – whatever you have learned to name that voice (or voices, as the case may be.)  The noise has shown up with alarming regularity and sometimes at the most puzzling points of engagement.
Why are we like this?  Bumping between long stretches of mammoth insecurity and occasional periods of unseemly grandiosity.  The father of a friend of mine once put it perfectly:  “I have met the enemy – and he lives inside my head.”
About 99.9% of the time when I pray with the psalmist those cries of imprecation, of deliverance from the assault of enemies, those cries for justice from those who would wish me harm – 99.9% of the time, I am praying against the noise inside my spirit, not against any flesh and blood foe.  (The other .1%?  Well, we’ll leave that one alone for today…)
“O God, listen to my complaint.
Do not let my enemies’ threats overwhelm me.
Protect me from the plots of the wicked,
from the scheming of those who do evil.
Sharp tongues are the swords they wield,
bitter words are the arrows they aim.
They shoot from ambush at the innocent,
attacking suddenly and fearlessly.”
“They encourage each other to do evil and plan how to set their traps.
“Who will ever notice?” they ask.
As they plot their crimes, they say
“We have devised the perfect plan!”
Yes, the human heart and mind are cunning.”
Psalm 64:1-6 (NLT)
Doesn’t that sound familiar? Because, really, isn’t that what those voices are like?  We speak to ourselves more harshly than we would ever speak to another living soul.  Sharp tongues,  bitter words shot at ambush suddenly and fearlessly – oh yeah, that feels very familiar.   The human heart and mind are indeed cunning.  And a big part of that cunning is what happens inside of us when the loud and carping negative voices are ascendant.
Whether what we hear sounds like feelings of total inadequacy (despite evidence of capability and gifting), questioning whether or not we are loved – by God, those closest to us, anyone-at-all-ever (despite faithfulness over time, presence when needed, material blessing above and beyond, sweet cards and notes, periodic phone calls….) – that head-noise is as efficient as a Navy Seal in getting in and around the crevices of our mind and spirit and sniping away at us.
Ah, but here is what I try to remember when the noise reaches deafening levels – the rest of that song of David –
“But God himself will shoot them down.
Suddenly, his arrows will pierce them.
Their own words will be turned against them, destroying them.
All who see it happening will shake their heads in scorn.
Then everyone will stand in awe,
proclaiming the mighty acts of God, realizing all the amazing things he does.
The godly will rejoice in the LORD and find shelter in him.
And those who do what is right will praise him.”
Psalm 64:7-10 (NLT)
Because if we listen very carefully, while firmly telling those inner voices of blame and shame to shut it, we can begin to hear another, softer, kinder and more truthful Voice.  The Voice that calls us beloved, the Voice that reminds us who we truly are, the Voice that sings songs of love over us.  The Singer is indeed mighty, amazing and wildly able and willing to shoot down the enemy within.  Oh, please listen well, listen hard.  Lean God’s direction and soak in the comforting, gracious word of the Sheltering One:
“Do not be afraid; for I have ransomed you.  I have called you by name; you are mine…you are precious to me.  You are honored, and I love you.”  Isaiah 43:1 & 4b

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Linking with: Saturday Evening Blog Post

May 7, 2011 By

Today, I am linking with Elizabeth Esther’s wonderful monthly invitation to bloggers to hook up one post from the previous month.  Run on over there and check it out:

http://www.elizabethesther.com/2011/05/the-saturday-evening-blog-post-vol-3-issue-4.html#comment-14540

These are the guidelines – have fun reading!

SATURDAY EVENING BLOG POST, vol. 3, issue 4

Posted on May 7, 2011 by elizabeth
Welcome to THE SATURDAY EVENING BLOG POST!
This is where bloggers gather on the first Saturday of each month to share their favorite post from the previous month! Today we’re sharing our favorite post from April 2011!
This month, it’s all about you! So, here’s how to participate:
  1. Pick one of YOUR posts from the last month. Insert that specific post (not your home page) into the Linky form here.
  2. Create a new post on your blog telling your readers about THE SATURDAY EVENING BLOG POST. Be sure to provide a link back here! It’s always fun to “meet” new bloggers.
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Living the Other Truth

May 6, 2011 By
Contributing these reflections to Rachel Held Evan’s SynchroBlog festival over at her blog today.  http://rachelheldevans.com/  It’s a “Rally to Restore Unity”  a la Jon Stewart et al, and it’s been both fun and inspirational to see all the wonderful signs 
and essays that have poured in this week.  
I have wrestled hard with what to say in this space 
and here’s where all that angst has landed me.
I disagree with a whole lotta people about a whole lotta 
faith-related things.  And most of them are not make-or-break issues for me.  But there is this one whole area of my life as a disciple of Jesus that is so filled with both joy and pain that I hardly know what to do with it all.

I wrote the sign pictured above with tongue firmly in cheek, wondering as I tried to take the picture, 
“Do I even mean this?”  
Oh, I hope I do.  
I hope I could endure, maybe even enjoy,
 a good lunch with someone on the opposite end of this particular discussion.  
Because if not, 
then I’m not quite as far along on this journey as I hoped.

What I’ve come to, after a lifetime 
of wondering, 
of working through the biblical evidence for and against, 
of reading widely on both sides of the 
whole male/female thing,
of arguing with others and with myself and even with God – what I’ve come to is this: 
the thing I’m called to do is,
to live the other truth.
As a trusted counselor said to me this morning,
“That is the revolutionary act.”

So that’s what I’ve done, by God’s grace, 
and my own determination here and there.
I’ve swallowed the angry retort (most of the time!),
I’ve quietly contributed what I could to 
caring for others,
teaching the word of God,
leading in worship, 
offering the sacraments, 
proclaiming the gospel good news.

And I’ve stood astounded,
mentally open-mouthed,
when men (and women) whom I love and respect 
say and do things that are stunningly at odds 
with what they say they believe.
Because, as I have learned to my chagrin 
and sometimes very deep personal pain,
 giving mental assent to an idea, to a doctrine, to a denominational stance …
and living that truth in day-to-day practice are 
two very different things.

Long ago, I decided that becoming an angry woman
in an ecclesial setting was not going to accomplish anything.  
In fact, an angry woman in church is always, 
and I do mean always, viewed as a threat, 
as a living oxymoron, 
as a strange and frightening being,
 somewhat outside the pale.
An angry woman is seldom, if ever, actually heard,
and sometimes not even seen.

Anger was not going to do a thing to bring change.
 But living that change just might make a beginning.

So that’s what I’ve tried to do – 
to live the change I hope for, I pray for, I long for.
I’ve been a woman in ministry for 17 years, 
serving the church in a denomination 
that has been ordaining women since 1974.
But that same church has not been proactively engaged in making that act a reality in the day-in and day-out life of the local church until fairly recent years.   
I thank God for my denomination.
I love who we are and who we are becoming.
But getting here has been tough sledding.
Real progress is being made, now on an almost daily basis.
And God is doing wonderful things 
in our broader community.
 Increasingly,  the partnership of men and women committed to reflecting the image of God in all its mysterious beauty is being experienced at all levels of our institutional life – 
the local church, the regional conference, 
the university and seminary.  And it’s lovely to behold.
And here, in the bosom of my ordination-wielding church family, I am increasingly comfortable and grateful.

But ask me to step very far outside of this particular comfort zone and I am, to put it bluntly, both terrified and exhausted.
I’ve done this work, 
I’ve come to the place where I believe God has led me, 
I’ve gratefully received and accepted a call on my life 
that I never anticipated, 
sought or even thought about very much.
And I don’t want to have to justify, 
explain, 
supply biblical warrant, 
or in any other way try to make someone else understand 
why I am who I am,
why I am where I am.
I just want to be those things.
I want to be a living, breathing example of the 
powerful truth that God calls all of us to ministry,
that God gifts all of us for ministry,
that God blesses all of us in ministry.

The year I was ordained,  a group of six women pastors somehow came together in a loosely associated group.  
We laughed a lot, 
we shared deeply, 
we prayed for and with one another, we became one another’s fervent cheerleaders and supporters.
  We even took retreats together – 
days spent in silence and solitude, 
evenings spent in community and sharing.
Over the 14 years of our connection to one another, 
one by one, every other woman in our group 
lost her church position.

All of these Amazonian friends continued to do ministry, wherever they landed – but oh! it was so painful to watch them being mistreated by colleagues and/or congregations.
And then – I was the only one left – the remnant,
the hold-out, the last one standing to fly the banner of 
female presence in local church ministry.  
And now I am retired.

And so I wonder, not so much for the congregation that I’ve left, but for so many others out there in Christendom,
who will pick up the banner next?
Whom will God call?
Who will model week-by-week the fullness of the image of God as we worship together?
Who will bring the complementary 
(and I use that good word very carefully, 
intentionally 
and specifically here) 
 the complementary gifts/presence/experience 
that only a female can bring to
worship,
preaching,
teaching,
offering the sacraments?

God will provide.  That is my hope, my trust, my dream.
And God will also continue to provide 
open-hearted, big-vision men
to partner with, encourage, and empower those women
 who come along on the next leg of this journey.
Hopefully, the groundwork that I and so many others have laid, will make their leg a little less painful
and a lot more straightforward.

In the meantime, I hope I can manage to share a table with someone who hasn’t yet seen what I have lived.
Marriage?  Not a chance.
Lunch?  Maybe.





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