Ascension Sunday, 2011

June 7, 2011 By

Joining Michelle again at Graceful, a meme for which I am increasingly grateful as I re-enter church as a worshiper and not a planner/participant – so thanks, Michelle, for this call to listen and worship well.   

Also joining dear Jen at Finding Heaven and the sisters of the Soli Deo Gloria sisterhood, because what I learn on Sundays is so often what I want to share with them:
 





Ascension Sunday. Not a date that Protestants, especially evangelical Protestants, tend to notice much. And that’s our loss, because it is such an important part of our story as people who follow the Jesus way.
  
Because here’s the good news about the ascension: 
our incarnate Savior is reigning NOW, 
seated on the right hand of God.  
The plan of salvation is working its way through human history – there are no surprises for our Triune God.  
The man Jesus is now fully inhabiting heaven as the cosmic Christ – our Champion, our Forerunner, our Deliverer. Ascension Sunday reminds us who is really in charge.
But it is also a reminder that we have been invited to partner with the Sovereign God in the working out of the good news in this world.
Jesus’ words to his disciples, just before he disappeared from their sight, were words of instruction, encouragement and invitation:
“He opened their minds to understand these many Scriptures.  
And he said, ‘…with my authority, take this message of repentance to all the nations, beginning in Jerusalem… And now I will send the Holy Spirit,
just as my Father promised. But stay here in the city until the Holy Spirit comes 
and fills you with power from heaven.'” (Luke 24:44, 47-48)
And the disciples response? Exactly what ours needs to be:
“They worshiped him and then returned to Jerusalem 
filled with great joy.  
And they spent all of their time in the Temple, 
praising God.”  (vs. 52)
It begins with worship – which leads to joy – which leads them to wait for the Spirit to fill and move them.
Worship 
to joy 
to waiting on God 
to moving wherever the Wind blows.
And that’s what we did, together, after the sermon.  We shared in communion as our gifted instrumentalists played two lovely and worshipful arrangements.  And we stood to sing, “Crown Him with Many Crowns,” in 4 part harmony, with trumpet descant – and the room fairly vibrated with joyful worship.
Now we wait for the Breath of God to move us, individually and collectively, into the nooks and crannies of our world, to bear the very fragrance of grace in Jesus’ name.  
Finding that balance between waiting and moving is sometimes tricky, though, isn’t it?  So we pray for eyes to see, ears to hear, and hands and feet to move when the time is right.  And, oh yeah – a little joy would be good, too.
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Multitudes on Monday – continuing in gratitude

June 7, 2011 By
 Joining with Ann Voskamp’s Monday gratitude group
(although I cannot for the life of me copy her button – 
it just doesn’t paste when I hit the key!)
Last week’s photo list proved to be a really positive way for me to list my thanks – it colored how I looked at each day,
lending an extra set of eyes in a way.
(And caused me to make sure a camera was nearby.)
God is good, life is good (even when it’s hard),
and I am grateful.
So, it continues…
11. My baby with his baby on birthday #39 – 
such a good man and good daddy;

 

12.  Grandgirl number one’s first tooth gap – so proud!
 13. ah, a trial run for the wedding day – 
so happy for our girl to have found happiness after loss;
14.  Our birthday gift veggie garden flourishing – 
and providing fabulous beans/zucchini/crookneck 
for dinner each night this week; 
 15.  This face – what more can I say?
 16.  These two – enjoying each other on Friday;
17. These eyes, windows to heaven;
 18.  Getting this guy up and running for the summer –
love the sound of water splashing as we fall asleep;
 19. Silent Saturday – 1st Saturday of the month –
3 hours of silence and prayer;
 20.  The scent of jasmine as we took our silent,
slow-stepping walks between centering prayer sessions;
 21.  practicing discipline, even with each step;
 22. Discovering a splashing stream on my way back to my car;
 23. Continuing the silence in my 2nd office – at the beach,
on a rainy June Saturday;
 24. Still too much stuff – BUT – the 2-offices-into-1 are finally organized – thank you, Jesus!
 25.  And it will be a perfect space to meet with directees
and the Holy Spirit;
26.  A desk surrounded by pieces of my story –
a story for which I am so grateful!
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Five Minute Friday: Every Day…

June 3, 2011 By

It’s that time again:  Friday morning and Lisa-Jo’s prompt. 5 minutes, start and stop – no editing, no worries.









GO:

Every day, I wake up glad and grateful to be alive.

Every day, I wonder …. how can I capture the pieces of my life and make sense of them for others to read.

Every day, I am grateful for my husband and his quirks and gifts.

Every day, I am grateful for my kids and their kids – for how they teach me about grace, for how they do their lives so much better than I did at their age.
Every day, I search for God in the echoes of the life I am living now.  
        A life without a set schedule (or at least a seriously less structured schedule); 
        a life without deadlines (most of the time); 
        a life without a congregation to care for and plan events for and occasionally preach and teach for.

But every day, I am more fully aware that the life I live now is not without meaning, purpose or value.

Every day, I come one step closer to relaxing into the life that is mine right now, this life that is looser, freer, less well-planned and organized.

Every day, I think I’m getting closer to getting it – to living it, inhabiting it more fully, experiencing what later life can be.

But every day, I know that I am one day closer to being truly old (I refuse that label just yet, even though I say it a lot).

Every day, I am closer to the end of this life and I want to end it well.  

By God’s grace, I’ll make it to the tape and leap across with relief and gratitude.

STOP.

These leaves may be gray – but the flowers are still brilliant and cheery.
Here’s to letting the colors shine.

Formatting added later, and the photo, too.
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The Power of Encouragement

June 2, 2011 By
FaithBarista_FreshJamBadgeG
Joining with Bonnie at Faith Barista for her Thursday invitation, and with Ann at A Holy Experience for her Walk with Him Wednesdays. 
  
Seven members of The Birthday Breakfast Club, January 2011

“With this news, strengthen those who have tired hands, and encourage those who have weak knees.  Say to those who are afraid, ‘Be strong and do not fear, for your God is coming to destroy your enemies.  
He is coming to save you.’  Isaiah 35:3-4

“Here,” she said gently, handing me a slip of paper with her scrawling handwriting on it. “This is the phone number and the date for the next Information Day.  This much I can do for you; the rest, you’ll have to do yourself.”

Gulp.

Five years of questioning, wondering, worrying, and fear.
Five years of wise counsel from trusted friends and pastors.
Five years of deep, even tearful conversations with my husband and my nearly adult children, always asking these questions: 

                              Could I possibly do this?

Could I enroll in graduate school?  
In seminary, for heaven’s sake?
Was this something God was calling me to do? 
Was I heading in the right direction?  
Could my life, as I knew it, change so radically and still be my life?

I didn’t have the answers as neatly in place as I might have liked.  I couldn’t quell the butterflies that flittered and fluttered every time I thought about the idea.  I couldn’t imagine how this would work.

But God put encouragers into my life, strong encouragers and through them, spoke truth to me:

Yes.  You can do this – because I walk with you.
Yes.  You can do this – because I call you to it.
Yes.  You can do this – have a little faith.

That last push – that slip of paper put into my outstretched hand – came from my friend Judy.  And Judy was chief among a group of friends who encouraged me to open my heart, my mind and my spirit to the possibility that God might be doing a new thing in me.

This group had a distinctly non-spiritual title.  We called ourselves the Birthday Breakfast Club and we came together not to study the Bible, not to spend hours in prayer, not to do any of what most small group curricula tell you a small group should be doing.

We knew each other from church – some of us knew each other better than others.  And we decided we would meet regularly throughout the year on or around each person’s birthday.  And we would meet for breakfast.  The birthday girl would have the spotlight – telling her story in any way she chose.  The rest of us would focus on that one story-telling woman, asking questions, offering suggestions, celebrating the high points, commiserating over low points.  

Gradually, over time, this group became one of the most profoundly spiritual groups of which I have ever been a part.  We probed deeply into each other’s faith journeys and marveled at God’s grace and patience. We laughed loudly and often.  We cried easily and honestly.  And eventually, we did pray – but it came out of our growing connection to one another, especially as we began to include an annual overnight together, a kind of mini-retreat held somewhere beautiful.

Two of the women in this group happened to be college and seminary professors, Judy being one of those, and their presence helped me to see the wonderful and powerful truth that God calls all kinds of people, including women, to step up and step out into leadership in the academy and the church.

And over the course of the first three years of our BBC group gathering together every few weeks, these encouraging friends helped me to hear the voice of God.  The questions asked, the comments made, the observations of my own gifts and personality offered – all of it helped to crystallize for me a call from God to take a gigantic leap of faith.  DEEP breath…

I went to that Information Day.  I felt strongly nudged to enroll in the M. Div program, the degree that often leads to pastoral ministry of some kind.  And when I had completed the application forms, gathered my referral letters, and written the check to begin the process – four of my friends from the BBC walked with me into the Admissions Office at Fuller Seminary and together, we shoved that envelope through the slot.  At the age of 44, I began a brand new life.

I answered God’s call to me to go to seminary, a call I initially heard as a way to become a more effective, informed Bible teacher.   About midway through my experience there, a deeper truth began to emerge – a call to pastoral ministry, surprising me greatly.  And once again, these friends were voices of encouragement – asking the hard questions, affirming my gifts, pointing out possible pitfalls, supporting me in the process of discernment.  

Because a true encourager is more than a fan, more than a cheerleader – although those elements are a part of the picture.  An encourager is one who knows you well, who sees you as a whole person, who calls out the best in you, who gently admonishes the not-best in you and who stands with you, whether the way ahead is smooth or rough.

Four years of seminary, three years of working in my home church while I completed requirements for ordination, and then came a call to serve a church 125 miles away.  

And these friends and I have met halfway somewhere near my birthday for almost every one of these last 14 years.  And each time we meet, I am once again deeply and oh-so-personally encouraged.  What a gift.  What a life-changing gift.  I am forever grateful for their sweet voices and for that scrawling handwritten note that marked the beginning of my journey toward today.






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Scripture and a Snapshot

May 31, 2011 By

Joining with this fun and visually stunning blog hop:  

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Grudgingly Grateful??

May 30, 2011 By
No, not really.  
Not so much grudgingly grateful…
but rather… um…shall we say..
 resistant to this list-making idea 
that’s become so popular since Ann’s book 
(actually the blog came first) 
invited us all to take up our pen and write down 
what we see and experience that makes us grateful 
for our unique lives.  
Please don’t get me wrong!  
I think this is a great idea – 
I’ve sponsored small groups at our church 
that are centered around gratitude; 
I have preached on the power of gratitude to change lives; 
I have experienced how gratitude begins to alter 
my thinking, 
my choices, 
my behavior.  
I’m a believer – I really am.

But … I’m also a bit rebellious by nature.
(Probably not the wisest thing for a pastor – 
even a retired one – to admit, but hey – it’s the truth.)
And this exercise began to feel a bit like the latest ‘fad,’ 
the newest formula for deepening our faith 
and widening our outreach.  
And, as a rule, I resist fads like the plague.  
Generally, they’re not helpful 
and tend to burn themselves out 
after exhausting church leaders and congregants alike
.
But as I’ve watched and waited, 
it seems to me that perhaps 
there is really something to this idea.
And Michelle DeRusha’s lovely photo list last week 
pushed me right over the top 
and made me want to think through my week 
with photos of those things that God has used 
to bless me in unique ways in the dailyness of my life.
So…I guess you could say,
I joined the Ann Voskamp club!
I’ve followed her blog for a long time now 
and have always appreciated her words and 
most especially, her pictures.
So here are a few of my own – 
which don’t begin to match the 
artistic gentleness of Ann’s, 
but which do speak to the life God has given me, 
far from the Canadian heartland.
I am a rank beginner at this kind of gratitude list-making, 
but the gratitude itself is far from grudging.
It is deep and heartfelt 
and very much an expression of my blessed existence.
1.  The first red roses from the garden.
2.  This kind of weather for about five days in a row.
 3.  An inviting space in which to ponder God’s goodness.
 4.  Inviting friends in to hear stories of God’s goodness on secular college campuses; stories told by a long-time friend and former pastor with a great new call on his life.
 5.  Our 1st harvest ever (in 45 years!) of fresh green beans!
 6.  A new magnolia tree to replace our old friendly oak that went down in the rains of March.
7.  Getting to love this little one every Wednesday.
 8.  Our grandson’s jazz concert – fabulous!
 9.  My 2nd office – and, truth be told, my favorite.  :>)
10.  The arrival of our eldest daughter’s wedding invitation – finding love, joy and grace after loss, heartache and suffering.

God is good.  All the time.  Isn’t that the best news ever?

So…finally joining in with Multitudes on Mondays:  
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Sixth Sunday in Eastertide: Coming Home

May 30, 2011 By
Joining with Michelle at “Graceful” for her wonderful weekly invitation to hear it/live it:

They say the third time’s the charm.  Oh, I hope that’s true!  It began to feel that way today, finally.  This was the third week we have worshipped with our home community since my retirement at the end of 2010.  It’s been decidedly odd to drop back into a place which was so central to my own identity and yet has not been a part of our life in any real way for five months now.  Each visit has felt slightly less strange and today felt the most decidedly familiar.

Great music.  Oh my, I love to hear people I know and love leading in worship.  A couple of great hymns from what I consider to be the finest hymnal on the market today (well, it’s now about 20 years old, I guess!) – The Covenant Hymnal: a Worshipbook, both of them done with a more contemporary tempo and arranged well for voice, guitar, bass and piano.  And a couple of my personal favorites in the contemporary repertoire, including, “Everlasting God.”  ‘Strength will rise as we wait upon the Lord, we will wait upon the Lord…’

And one of the strongest praying voices in our congregation led in community prayer – a published poet and novelist, he teaches English literature at a nearby college and his prayer could have carried me home right there and then.  “The Spirit blows across the world, may we blow with that Spirit, opening our umbrellas to catch the current and rise…”

And a strong sermon on a familiar but difficult passage – the parable of the unforgiving servant found in Matthew 18.  Forgiveness is a huge topic for most of us, for a whole host of reasons, but here are my notes from today’s reflection:

“We no longer think of forgiveness as something powerful enough to change our lives because we live in a culture that has pretty much therapeut-erized and eliminated sin.  
But a good biblical reading of the gospels shows us that 
Jesus proposes forgiveness as our new mother tongue, 
our new currency; 
it is the language of the Trinity and is modeled over and over by Jesus in the pages of the NT.  
Forgiveness is the ‘innovative gesture of the Trinity to break the logic of vengeance’ which so permeates our world.  
When we practice forgiveness, 
we enter the ‘sweet logic of the Trinity.’  
This brings us back to the beginning of chapter 18 – 
where Jesus calls forth a little child as a living illustration of what a disciple is to look like.  
And though children can at times be prime carriers of vengeance – their basic language is forgiveness.  
It comes easily and naturally to them.  
So now, as grown-ups, we need to un-learn our habits, 
our cycles of behavior and our language.  
And that begins with confession, 
continues by living in healthy community  – 
practicing forgiveness in work relationships, 
family relationships, 
the church’s community life, 
and is undergirded by realizing daily 
the power of sin at work in us 
and celebrating that the power of God’s love is greater.”

And then we stood and read together this beautiful confession of sin, written by Richard Baxter in the 17th century
(this may not be the exact wording of what we read together, but it’s the closest one I can find in a Google search!):

O most great, most just and gracious God; you are of purer eyes than to behold iniquity; but you have promised mercy through Jesus Christ to all who repent and believe in him.

Therefore we confess that we are sinful by nature and that we have all sinned and come short of the glory of God.

We have neglected and abused your holy worship and your holy name. We have dealt unjustly and uncharitably with our neighbours. We have not sought first your kingdom and righteousness.

We have not been content with our daily bread.
You have revealed your wonderful love to us in Christ and offered us pardon and salvation in him; but we have turned away.

We have run into temptation; and the sin that we should have hated, we have committed.

Have mercy upon us, most merciful Father! We confess you alone are our hope. Make us your children and give us the Spirit of your Son, our only Saviour. Amen

It was a good morning and we are grateful.
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One Year Ago..

May 30, 2011 By
Connecting with Jen’s sisterhood this week (on Tuesday):  

One year ago this week…

I was minding my own business, getting up and out of the house to hear the third in a series of three lectures from one of my favorite theologians (John Weborg, retired professor of theology from North Park Theological Seminary in Chicago).

And I realized I was out of breath – taking a shower! Then I talked to my daughter on the phone while walking through the house to my car and got breathless again.

Weird.

Drove across town to attend the lecture, got out of my car, walked up the same hill I’d walked up the previous two mornings, and WHAM, I could not breathe, and my heart began to pound nearly out of my chest.

So I turned around, got back in my car, and drove myself to the emergency room, which happened to be less than a mile from the lecture site.

Our hospital is in the long process of being completely rebuilt, so there is valet parking for the ER.  Sort of strange to hand over the keys to your car and have them ask, “Who are you here to see?”  Well…just me…I guess.

They hooked me up to heart machines, tested my blood oxygen, which was a little low, so I got one of those ugly tubes in the nose.
And thus I began the great adventure of the last 12 months.

I thought for sure I was having some sort of panic attack and I would be sent home with kind smiles and knowing looks. Now, mind you, I’ve never had a panic attack that I know of – but still…once I got quiet, with not much to do,the heart stopped pounding, the breath normalized and I wondered, “What the heck am I doing here?” I had an EKG, tons of blood work, a chest x-ray, and then I sat in that cubicle for about 5 hours.
Taking phone pictures of my feet?  You know I had to be bored out of my skull.

I did say the Jesus prayer a lot, and, as usual, found it to be a source of peace and comfort while I waited.  The nurse who tended me was just terrific, and she was the one who pegged it – “Don’t like that low oxygen sat with the shortness of breath. Don’t like it at all.  They should do a chest CT scan.”

Well, after a particular blood test was sky high, that’s exactly what they did. And I was admitted to the hospital with multiple pulmonary emboli (blood clots) in both lobes of both lungs.

My pulmonary tree lit up like fireworks. And…I started the wonderful experience of taking blood thinning medication. Which always begins with…oh, joy… shots to the belly twice a day, shots of a nasty and very expensive substance called heparin.  This stuff keeps your blood thin while the oral meds kick in, so I’m grateful for its effect, but really came to dread its application.

This is what just one side of my mid-section looked like about 3 days into the 6 days of shot-giving. And every one of those bruises (which multiplied like rabbits over the course of this treatment), every one of them had a large, hard knot underneath it.
By now, I’m a bit of an expert on all things related to this condition and the medication which is required to prevent it from happening again.  That’s because my husband had the exact same thing happen to him six years before!

Once they know you have blood clots, then they really run the tests, trying to figure out the source.  Neither one of us turned up with cancer or visible clots in our arms or legs, so we’re on this med for life – ‘unknown etiology requires prophylactic treatment…’

Compounding things was the fact that my boss was leaving in a matter of days for his hard-earned six week break and I would become point person in his absence.  I was scheduled to preach 10 days after this event and that did not happen, but I did lead in worship that week and each of the next 5, worked more hours than I probably should have and realized that I was exhausted through and through.

This is a hard thing for a perfectionistic, anxious to please, bred-to-the-bone caretaker personality to deal with: I couldn’t do what I was used to doing.  And my body let me know that, big-time.

It was a very difficult year on many levels: medication reaction, vertigo, palpitations, severe anxiety attacks, dental work (!!!), trying to finish well as retirement drew near – all of these experiences new to me and waded through with prayer and patience and loving support from my husband and family.  
But as has been true for all the difficult years I’ve lived through in my long life, I have discovered again that God’s redemptive power is never shackled, there are good and important lessons to be learned about life and how to live it.  The transforming power of God’s grace can slowly make its sweet and winsome way into the darkness and confusion of any difficult situation, and this long year has been no exception.  

So I stand at this end of the year just past, and offer grateful thanks for health restored, for lessons learned (and being learned!), and for the presence of a loving God all along the way.  I truly love my life and I am so glad to still be living it.
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Five Minute Friday: On Forgetting

May 27, 2011 By



Oh, how I love these 5-minute Friday prompts.  Kudos and deep thanks to Lisa-Jo for faithfully opening her blog to all of us who love to chime in.  It’s five minutes of unedited writing – “just write without worrying about whether or not it’s just right.”  This week’s topic is another doozy:  On Forgetting
I’m downright curious to see where I go with this one.





















GO:


Forgetting is such a bittersweet word for me just now.  Sweet because it conjures up the wonderful truth that Grace forgets my sins as well as forgives them.  Sweet because I love thinking back over my life and noting the things that jump to the front for attention, remembering love and laughter.  Sweet because I enjoy creating unforgettable moments with those I love – celebrations, conversations, travel.  Sweet because memory can be such a boost for the spirits – when those memories are easily accessible and primarily positive.


But bitter because I’m watching, in a terribly up-close and personal way, how memory can desert you as you age.  How frightening it can be to not be able to bring forth a word, or a name, or an event, or a conversation – that just happened a few moments or days or weeks ago.  Two women whom I love deeply are experiencing this kind of forgetting.  One of them is aware of the loss; one is not.  And I’ve gotta say – I think I’d rather be in the second category.  It’s tough to see yourself slipping ever-so-slowly away and feel pretty powerless to do anything about it.  


But then again, maybe that’s why I’m here.  To help my mom remember.  To tell the stories, at least the more recent ones, enough times so that they move over into her long-term memory, the part that still seems to work amazingly well.


For my mother-in-law, there is also space for story-telling but it feels different somehow.  Because she doesn’t know she’s forgotten them, it doesn’t trouble her as much.  It’s hard to hold onto the truth of who these women truly are, but I’m doing my best not to forget.

STOP.



           My mother-in-law Kathryn                                   and                         my mom, Ruth


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Be Ye Perfect…

May 27, 2011 By
Take a good look at this picture.
What do you see?
No … really … what do you see?
If you said,
“Why, that’s a ferris wheel!
Anyone can see that – it’s clear as day,”
then … BUZZ … wrong answer.

It’s not a ferris wheel.
At least, not yet.
It’s a pair of round metallic pieces held together
by spokes and held up by some funky pink braces.
But it’s not a ferris wheel.
Why?
Because it doesn’t have any seats, silly.

I saw this while making a left hand turn 
across a busy intersection, 
attempting to get into the freeway access lane 
and getting stopped by a red light.
I whipped out my small point-and-shoot 
and tried to take 
a picture of it 
(through about six car windows),
 because I was so astonished to see
this incomplete,
imperfect
specimen.

But in reality, I have no idea if it was imperfect or not.
I can only say with certainty that it was incomplete.

It’s taken me most of my life to understand 
that when Jesus told all those folks 
gathered on the mount that 
they were to be
 “perfect, as your heavenly Father is perfect…,”
he wasn’t laying the weight of perfectionism
on them or on us.
He was using the term ‘perfect’ to mean 
something different from 
what we usually understand that word to mean.
Not so much flawless,
as complete,
whole,
fulfilled –
in the sense of fulfilling God’s design for us
as human creatures.

I have lived far too much of my life 
worrying about the details that create 
at least the appearance of perfection –
the perfect outfit,
the perfect parenting technique,
the perfect state of cleanliness and neatness in my home,
the perfect ability to communicate what I want to say,
whether in a conversation,
a relationship,
or a sermon.

And all that worrying,
all that angst,
all that smoothing out the wrinkles
(both figuratively and literally!)
robbed me,
and robbed others,
and basically robbed God
of the things I could have been/done/said/thought
that would have moved me towards
fullness,
wholeness,
completion.

Part of it, of course, was being a first-born child.
And part of it was being born female.
But a whole lot of it was a combination of
wrongheaded teaching,
limited understanding of the true nature of the gospel,
and an internalized message that was both
false and destructive.

And I am sorry about that; 
I’m sorry for all the time and energy 
that went into trying too hard 
to be all things to all people,
to keep everyone else in the world convinced
that I was the hardest-working,
most loyal,
most devoted and caring person they had ever met.

And I wish I had been:
more relaxed in my parenting,
more able to accept personality flaws in
myself and others,
more willing to take risks,
less afraid of failure,
more aware of the need to care for myself
in terms of health, fitness, solitude,
and just plain, old-fashioned
‘dinking’ around.

I’ve come to believe that dinking around is
 one of the profoundest spiritual experiences 
any of us can ever have.
Just looking with eyes that take the time to observe;
just listening with ears that take the time to
really, deeply listen;
just being fully and earnestly present to whatever and whoever is around me.

Slowly, s-l-o-w-l-y, I am learning.
It involves breathing in and breathing out.
It involves saying the Jesus prayer a lot,
sometimes almost non-stop.
It involves periods of deep contrition
for my impatience with the process,
my impatience with others 
who are learning these lessons
 differently than I am,
my impatience with myself.

It involves a growing conviction
that much of what I thought was 
true
and valuable
and real
in this life we live is really 
illusory
and ephemeral
and unnecessary.
This little girl we get to watch every Wednesday,
with her wild and crazy hair
and delight at the world around her;
her 5-year-old sister,
with her funny faces, incredible vocabulary,
and a new gap in her mouth where a tooth used to be;
these six fine grandsons, 
with their wide-ranging interests,
their good hearts,
their sense of fun and camaraderie;
this husband, 
who has survived two life-threatening illnesses
and still makes me laugh and loves me,
warts and all;
these walks on the beach
or around my yard,
that fill my soul with light;
these friends, who have traveled with me,
many of them for decades;



these words, written by so many talented,
insightful, deeply funny and wise women and men;

these dear ones who come and sit in
my office and who listen with me
for the movement of the Spirit
in their lives —
these gifts of grace and goodness
from a graceful and good God –
these, these are what are
true and valuable and real.

Glory be and hallelujah
that I’m not perfect,
but I am moving in the direction
of
wholeness,
of
holiness.

Submitted tonight at Bonnie’s place:

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