One Wild and Precious Life

Sermon for Lent 1 & Thoughts on Lent

Ash Wednesday is over, ashes duly administered and received (2 services) -- next year we'll likely try "Ashes to Go" (Google it -- there are hundreds of articles) -- but not a drive-through, though our church has a lovely circle drive that would be perfect for it!  I'm forming a worship planning committee that might help me decide where would be a good location to distribute early-morning ashes -- I wonder if McDonalds would let me stand at the drive-through?

For those of you not familiar with Lent, it's the 40 days (excluding Sundays -- those are days off!) preceding Easter.  It has traditionally been a time of fasting, penitence, and self-examination in preparation for Holy Week (the week prior to Easter, when the Last Supper, Jesus' trial, and his crucifixion took place).  When I was a kid growing up in the Episcopal Church, my Lenten practices were giving up candy and (when I remembered) stuffing coins into a "mite box" that was placed on a big cross on Easter Sunday morning and the money given to charity.  I've always found that observing Lent makes the glory of Easter and the Resurrection even more -- well, more glorious!  And sometimes some of the Lenten "new habits" actually stick.

Sometimes I've fasted during the day on Fridays, and this was always a pretty amazing experience, spiritually speaking.  Because of my abstinence and eating program, I've not tampered with my diet these last 2 years.

This year my Lent is packed, with a parish study of contemporary Islam as lived out in the US as well as my own study on the Rule of Benedict.  I'm using Jane Tomaine's book called St. Benedict's Toolbox (mine's on Kindle), as well as a couple of others: Esther DeWaal's Seeking God: The Way of St. Benedict, and the Rule of Benedict itself.  The study is in conjunction with a religious community for which I am a Companion:  The Worker Sisters & Brothers of the Holy Spirit.  We are actually spending the whole year on this study, and Jane Tomaine will be featured at our retreat in April in St. Louis.

I'm really excited about this study (I know, I know, it won't set everyone's heart on fire), especially since a lot of our Episcopal Book of Common Prayer and our own particular approach to spirituality and spiritual formation are based on Benedictine monasticism.

Here are my sermons for both Ash Wednesday and Sunday:

Download Ash Wednesday B, February 22, 2012

Download Lent 1B, February 26, 2012

I hope you are all thinking about Lenten practices, whether giving something up or taking something on!  I'm avoiding what I should be giving up (television and the computer) by taking on something very virtuous (see above).

Life is Amazing Sometimes!

My friend Fran is participating in the "A Virgin a Day" meme, and today she posted a picture of Artemis of the Ephesians.  Now Fran saw the ancient statue in Turkey (where Ephesus is located), but I saw this one in Naples:

I like to think of her as the "missing link" between paganism and Christianity in Italy.  Can you see how a culture who worshipped this figure above (her hands, feet, and face were replaced in bronze in the late Nineteenth Century, so I'm not sure if they were originally black), could easily adopt and adapt to a figure like the one following?

Actually the Lady above is in Einsiedeln, Switzerland -- but in the foothills of the Alps, the countries kind of run together, with no cultural boundaries at all.  It's "mountain culture," rather than identifiably Swiss or French or German or Italian.  Or how about this one, below?  She is across the border and in the Alpine foothills on the other side, in Oropa, Italy:

 

It seems to me that these dark, feminine figures have more in common than they are different.  On the Artemis figure, her headdress, arms, and skirt are lined with figures of humans and animals -- how radically different is that from those black Virgins, carrying the Christ Child?  At the very least, these black madonnas must have seemed like familiar figures to a goddess-worshipping Italian culture.

And speaking of my friend Fran, here's another amazing thing that has happened this week.  In her post a week or so ago, she mentioned my blog.  Well, someone who was reading her blog just happens to live in my town!  Out of the blue I got an email from this person, and we had lunch, and now I have a new friend!  I have a "Mary friend" right here in this town.  We're both passionate about the Virgin Mary (mine in the guise of my beloved black madonna, of course) -- and we have lots and lots and lots of other things in common!  I wish you could have seen us at lunch, talking about a million miles an hour, with so much to share.  So thanks to a friend way out west, I have a new friend here on the Cumberland Plateau!  What fun!  More than fun -- there's delight and joy in finding a new person to share with, in this bible-belt community where they mostly only pay attention to the Virgin Mary at Christmas, then they put her away for another year.  Thanks, Fran.

One of the best things about friends is what we share with one another, and how we grow and are inspired by knowing one another.  I would not have this new friend Donna if it weren't for my friend Fran.  And now I have someone to share Mary with, but also spirituality, and art-making, and life here in this part of the world.  Can you tell I'm thrilled?  Thanks, Fran!  Thanks, Donna, for following up and writing to me, and thanks to the both of you for bringing me again into blogland for a visit and inspiration.

One Wild and Precious Life

Today I'm writing from my back porch.  It's hot, but I'm tolerating the heat very well.  What you won't see in this picture is the fan that's blowing on me, in addition to a nice breeze.

I didn't know you could have a fan on a porch, till I overheard a conversation between some southern friends of mine.  Then I realized that you can have a fan anywhere you have an electrical outlet!  And in the evenings, it can help blow the bugs away.  Last night was just dreamy out here, I've got to tell you.

So it's beautiful out here.  Part of my job as a parish priest is reading and writing, pondering the mysteries of the universe.  It's a great job!  And it's the part of the job that can be done just as well on the back porch as anywhere else -- maybe better on the back porch!

Weight loss update:  63 pounds gone.  I feel terrific.  Most of the time I even think I look terrific!  I have more energy, more time, and I'm "showing up" more emotionally.  I really feel present to my life and other people in a way that I haven't in a long, long time.  And there are other changes that have come about since I'm not eating and drinking addictively.  For instance, I find myself cleaning things up.  One day I walked into my garage and thought, "Oh, this is a mess."  Before I knew it, it was cleaned up, the back of my car was full of cardboard for the recycling center, and I was sweeping grass clippings and spider webs out the door.  The same crazy thing happened in my potting shed -- let there be order!  The pile of old magazines in my closet has shrunk considerably.  What is this, anyway?

My mind is clearer.  I'm reading things that I've read in previous years, but it feels as though I'm reading them for the first time.  I'm writing more.  And I'm having lots of Big Ideas and Wonderings.  And one of my wonderings is about the whole reason for this blog.  Is there any real reason to continue it?  Yeah, I've met some great folks who read, and whose blogs I read regularly.  But I seem to spend less and less time reading blogs, and certainly not much time writing.  But I do feel that the adventure of my life is worth sharing.  I'm learning so much, realizing so much, and it's not as though I'm discovering anything new, but I do occasionally find resources worth sharing, and it would be great to have a few people to share all these thoughts and discoveries with.

So -- one wild and precious life.  One.  As far as anyone knows for sure, it's the only one we get.  The only time around.  I won't pass this way again, won't have this summer day, won't have this moment of seeing roses blooming and basil wilting, won't feel this same breeze.  Wild.  This isn't anybody else's life.  It's mine.  It can't be stuffed into someone else's conception of what it should be.  For that matter, it can't even be stuffed into my own preconceptions.  In some senses I am the driver of this life, but I also have the necessary luxury of just sitting back and watching what happens sometimes.  So it's God's design and mine, nobody else's.  I can't be tamed to fit someone else's standards.  Precious.  That hardly needs any expansion or explanation at all.  I feel as though every day is a miracle.  I look in the mirror and I'm amazed.  I watch and listen and feel my own heart, how it has expanded in love, and I'm surprised, delighted, and oh, so grateful.  Yes, this life is precious, and my prayer is that you who read these words realize the preciousness, the miracle of your own life.  Go in peace, friend, go in peace.

Snow Day!

Oooh, it's snowing on the Plateau!  Snowing and snowing!  It has been snowing for just about 24 hours straight, without stopping.  Today it's very light snow, like powdered sugar -- but non-stop, nevertheless.  It's exciting!  Everything is closed, almost, and everything that can be cancelled in this part of the world, has been.

Brrr.  The wind is blowing, too, and the temperature is 13F.  Not quite a blustery day, but close.  You can see I've been out with the snow shovel; I've also been over to my office (all of about 200 feet away).  Earlier this morning I even took the car out for a quick trip to the grocery store; but mostly I'm staying inside and cozy today, doing some work from home, taking it very easy and enjoying the day off that everyone else is getting.

I'm thinking about a conference that I attended in October in Mississippi, one that I never took the opportunity to tell you about.  It's called CREDO, and is sponsored by the national Episcopal Church for active clergy (and also for full time lay professionals in the church).  This was my second CREDO conference, the last being 8 years ago.  CREDO stands for "Clergy Reflection, Education, and Discernment Opportunity."  It's a wonderful way that the church has developed to take care of its clergy.  We were at the Gray Episcopal Camp and Conference Center near Jackson, Mississippi, and it was for priests who all attended a previous CREDO, and who are roughly the same age and years of experience.  It lasted 7 days.  It was a great opportunity to reflect on where I've come, where I am now, and where I still want to go in my career and in my life.  They fed us well, gave us lots of information and food for thought, and assigned us to small groups where we could discuss our ongoing reflection and goal-setting.  Before we went, we were to have a physical exam and complete a health profile, fill out some (absolutely confidential) financial and vocational worksheets, and ask several people from our work life to fill out surveys about us.  This gave us some really valuable baseline information to contribute to the week's work, as well.

Here are some shots of the place we stayed:

This is what I saw out my bedroom window every morning -- mist rising over the lake.  Ethereally beautiful.

This is the labyrinth (with my shadow cast across it) where we could walk and meditate as we pondered our lives.

And this is the chapel where we worshipped daily.  The weather was perfect, perhaps just a bit too warm a couple of days, but we wore shorts and t-shirts most of the time.  The camp, located across the road from our section, had a swimming pool for our use, as well.

One evening, we went into Jackson for a nice dinner out.  The street where we ate still had the facades on the buildings that were used when "The Help" was filmed.  If you haven't read that book, you must.  I loved it.  Here are a couple of shots of the fun storefronts from the early 1960s:

You can't see what's playing at the Capri, but it's "Cleopatra," with Elizabeth Taylor.

It looks a lot like the streets of the town where I grew up.  Same era, too.

On the way home I went to see Graceland.  But I'll have to share those pictures and related reflections another time.

At the end of the conference, most of us had detailed goals and plans completed.  One of my biggest realizations from the conference is how isolated I've become here in my little corner of the world.  Little by little, this corner has, in fact, become littler.  I've become more and more alone, and it was all so gradual that I didn't even notice it.  I found excuses not to go out and be with people, as the little corner became very comfortable.  But God said, "It is not good for Adam (humankind -- not a man's name) to be alone."  And it's true.  So I've been making real efforts to incorporate other people into my life and activities.  Some of that is blogging here.  Some is about being in better touch with friends and family who are distant, and also with friends close at hand -- as well as seeking out new friends.  It has involved a little effort, a little stepping outside my comfort zone again.  We introverts can play alone very happily in our little corners, but we need others, just like the extroverts do.

Something I've noticed, since I recognized my own isolation, is that now I feel lonelier.  I think I kept those feelings locked up for a long, long time.  But sometimes I miss the people I love so much that I cry.  Eventually I think I'll be looking for employment that will bring me closer to those who have known me my whole life, or close to it.  It's funny how they all are more and more important, the older I get.  When I was a kid, or even up to middle age, I could flit off on my own adventures that took me far away:  Moving from Indiana to Buffalo, then off to Connecticut to seminary, then down here to the Plateau and this lovely little church.  But as I get older, and now especially that I've unlocked my lonely heart, being close to the old, good friends, and family who has known me my whole life, seems more and more important.

I'm eager to see how this new awareness unfolds in my life; it feels as though I've set off on another leg of my journey.

Everyone stay warm and dry, you hear now?

Black Madonna & The Garden

Last Saturday I had the privilege of doing an Advent Quiet Day at Grace Church, Chattanooga.  For those of you who aren't familiar with Quiet Days, they are fairly traditional in the Episcopal Church, especially during Advent and Lent, the liturgical seasons of self-examination and preparation.  My friend, who is the priest in charge at Grace, asked me to do something about the black madonna for them.  Typically the day consists of two presentations of perhaps 45 minutes each, and some quiet time for prayer, meditation, journaling.  It's a time to take the material of the presentations and internalize it, make it your own.  I was very excited to do this presentation, but didn't know what to expect, as I had offered the same presentation to my own parish last year and zero (yes, zero) people showed up for it.  But this is a much bigger and more diverse parish than my own; in addition, I was privileged to get some additional publicity in the form of National Episcopal Church coverage, so as I said -- who knew how many people might come?

I'll admit, the day didn't start well.  I thought I knew my traveling time pretty well, having been off the Plateau and down to Chattanooga several times; in addition, I had directions from the diocese.  Unfortunately, my travel took a bit longer than I'd planned, and I got on the connecting interstate going the wrong direction.  I was nearly a half-hour late (having planned to be 45 minutes early), and of course I arrived flustered.

But then it all settled down nicely.  I talked about my madonnas as artifact and Christian icon.  I talked about how Mary is actually the perfect companion for Advent, as she certainly knew the truest sense of "preparation," and how my own story connected with the darker aspects of Advent preparation.  I, like Mary, knew how it felt to be young, pregnant, and unmarried: I know the shame, the doubt, how it feels to tell parents and one's intended of the untimely pregnancy.  I spoke of Advent being a time when we move into darkness, then out of the darkness toward the light of the Incarnation of Christ.  I showed my artifacts, talked a bit about my pilgrimage last year in search of the Italian black madonnas.  I answered questions, then we took a short break and sat in silent, centering prayer for a time.

After lunch I talked a bit about what some believe are the pagan origins of the black madonna, about the similarity to Isis and Horus, to Artemis, about how the Madonna might have appeared to the Italian culture that had been worshipping women in the form of goddesses for millennia.  I told them my theory that Christianity was much easier for this pagan culture to accept when it appeared in the form of a female holding a child, and how some of the Italian legends and festivals for Mary held elements that resembled pagan legends.  I told more of my personal story, about how grief and dark places are such old, familiar friends to me, how I've trod the dark paths of grief many times, and how I feel called to be with people in their darkest times here at my own parish.  You can imagine that in a parish of retirees, I have many occasions to walk beside them in times of illness, disability, and grief.

This is the black madonna at Oropa, the first one I saw in Italy.  Isn't she striking?

I had 13 participants, and it was really wonderful to be with people who understood my points, who were interested, who asked questions, who weren't mystified when I talked about Carl Jung, his feminine principle, the shadow, the sacred feminine, the dark feminine.

And I was delighted when they asked me to return to conduct their Lenten retreat, an overnight at a nearby retreat center.  I'm happily planning and preparing for that now, as well -- am thinking of focusing on the biblical Wisdom tradition and writings.

The weather has really shifted today.  It went from a mild 50 degrees F, with a little sunshine, to overcast and rainy and cooler.  Tonight and tomorrow it's supposed to snow.

Earlier, I worked outside in the yard a bit.  This is an "after" shot of the sidewalk, which was buried in leaves and overrun with nasty bamboo grass and wild rose thorns.

Yeah, keep in mind, this is the "after" shot!  Imagine what it must have been before.  You can see this overgrown bed (who planted this bamboo grass here in the first place?  It sure wasn't me!) will occupy me for hours, as I spent an hour here, clearing this walk, cutting that nasty wild rose, and raking a bit.  Every mild winter day will afford me the chance to get outside into the invigorating fresh air, as can be seen from this:

and this:

and this:

and this:

Well, that's about half of what needs to be pruned and trimmed, weeded and tidied.  Want to come help?  My flower beds are suffering from years of neglect now; every year I swear I'll do better, and every year things get away from me almost before I know what's happening.

The good thing about this part of the country is that we get plenty of days that are 45-50 degrees and sunny in the winter; that's when it will feel good to get outside and bend and stretch and breathe fresh air (and leaf mold from all the dead things).  Despite appearances, I like to get my hands in among growing things, and it has been entirely too long since I've done that.

Tomorrow is the Third Sunday in Advent. I'm not quite sure where this year, much less this short season, has gone already.  I've begun my Christmas decorating, which feels as though it will be low key this year.  Here's the tree, partially decorated:

The ornaments are red ones that I had in the house (I used them up through Valentine's Day in various bowls).  I haven't brought the rest in from the garage yet -- I get really tired of schlepping stuff back and forth.

Finally, before I head off to finish my sermon:  I've begun a program called Food Addicts in Recovery Anonymous (FA).  It's modeled very closely on Alcoholics Anonymous, not just some generic "Twelve-Step Program."  One of the books we study is the "Big Book" from AA.  It's a pretty rigorous food program for the first 90 days -- no flour, no sugar, call sponsor daily to report food plan for the coming day.  As I read the materials daily, I find that so many of the things these books say "fit" for me, and my heart sinks.  I do not like admitting that I have an addictive disorder or personality.  I'd much rather this was all just "bad eating habits" that I could change at will.  But I've been carrying this weight for nearly 20 years now, and trying to "change bad habits" hasn't really worked.  Though the focus of the program is not weight loss, per se, but becoming abstinent and working a program of recovery, I do, of course, want to lose weight, as well.  This is my eighth day, and I can tell I'm losing.  My knees and hips are already thanking me, and I expect they'll continue to do so.  But equally important, I'm becoming more and more aware of habits and characteristics and coping mechanisms that need to be addressed and changed.  I think I've got a long road ahead of me, but if it gets hard, I remind myself that it's really one day at a time, and maybe I can make it through just this one day.  I'll let you know how it goes.  I'm really trying to let God do this for and with me, but it's hard to let go the reins.

Hope you all are taking some time just to be in Advent.  Be alert.  Watch for signs of what God's doing.  Get your heart ready for the feast of love that Christmas is really intended to be.

Oops!  I forgot the promised link to last Sunday's sermon (thanks again, Fran, for encouraging me to do this!):  Download Advent 2A, December 5, 2010 . I will post tomorrow's when it's finished -- tomorrow!

So Grateful

I'm not making an extensive post tonight, even though I think I should create works of art every day, like some of my blog friends.  But I'm blown away.  I preached about my daughter yesterday, about how a tragedy can sometimes turn into great gifts.  The response of my parishioners has been overwhelmingly touching.  Your comments here have been manna from heaven for a hungry heart.  I'm slowly, slowly learning that opening my heart means that others will touch me in meaningful ways, and that has happened.  This introvert, this one who was a solemn, lonely, isolated little girl, and who grew into a sometimes rather isolated woman, is learning to open her heart.  God is helping to teach me this; you all are also teaching me that it feels better to have an open heart than not to have one.

This is another example of how the tragedy of losing Eleanor has become a great gift.  My heart feels touched by your responses -- all of you.  I am replenished.  Today was an amazing day, with parishioners reaching out to me, with some of you reaching out to me.  I've experienced God's love through all of you, and I feel better able to face those other uncertainties that life is always bound to hold.

My goodness.  My gracious.  Thanks to the loving, good, and gracious God.  And thanks to Eleanor again.  And maybe more than that, thanks be to all of you.  ALL of you.

And Now, a Pause....

It's that time of the year again.  It caught me by surprise.  Most of our autumn beauty is past, though in Knoxville, down off the Plateau, it's still lovely.  I'm finishing up this church season of Ordinary Time, and making preparations for Advent, which begins on the 28th, the Sunday after Thanksgiving.  We'll be purple at church for a while then, and "preparatory" -- making ready for the birth of God's dream among us, and the final coming, when God wins, once and for all, and goodness and mercy will reign forever.

I've been enjoying another week of mild weather -- the nights are cold, as they should be in the mountains in November, but the days are a warm embrace of sunshine.

But I've been out of sorts.  I'm gaining weight again.  My will to be active, eat right, abstain from alcohol, read and write daily, do yoga -- all the things that keep me feeling really good, has lagged.  The will just isn't there.  And I've been beating myself up severely.  Scold, scold, scold.  Many mental finger-shakes.  Finally a colleague said to me, "What would happen if you moved from a position of disappointment and discouragement with yourself, to a position of curiosity?"  Well, that got my attention!

So I asked myself:  what is going on here?  I asked "why," which is sometimes helpful, sometimes not.  This time, it was.  I realized that I am in a time of transition.  My beloved Bishop (who is my boss -- not the parish where I minister, but the Bishop, is the one that I work for directly) is retiring, and we're about to elect another.  I don't know any of the candidates, and must go forward on trust -- that people I know and love have screened these candidates.  And of course, now I must also do my homework, and find out all I can about the nominees.  But losing my +Charlie is a great blow -- he has nurtured and encouraged me as a priest in the eight years since I've been here.  He knows my parish, and the growth we've experienced since I came here.  A newcomer won't know any of this -- we'll just be that little parish out on the edge of things.

I've also begun the very slow process of seeking another call.  Leaving this parish.  I'm in no hurry; I'm very happy here.  But I have many years yet until I officially retire from the active priesthood, and I will serve at least one more parish in that time.  So I've very gently and tentatively put my toes into the waters of looking around -- and that is a scary process of stepping into the unknown.  There are times here when I feel as though (after 8 years!) my ministry has just begun, just taken up steam.  But the decision to begin the journey into the unknown is always scary.

So with those conclusions, I felt a little better.  Of course I feel a little unsettled; my comfortable and enjoyable routines are naturally being shaken up a bit.

And then I watched Oprah on Thursday.  I watched Marie Osmond, 8 months after the suicide of her 18-month-old son.  She looks good.  She looks better. 

http://static.oprah.com/images/tows/201011/20101109-marie-osmond-4-300x205.jpg

When I say better, I mean more real.  I can look at her face now and see what she's living.  I can see who she is as a person right now.

I've followed Donny & Marie since my daughter was a fan, back in the 1970s and 80s.  I didn't really become a fan, but their faces "registered" with me as cultural icons of a sort.  My daughter had some sort of "head" that she got from her father and stepmother -- a "styling head," that was Marie, I think.  There was a knob with which you could make hair longer or shorter, and a set of "makeup" paints to apply to the face.  I don't recall her using it, and it was always a little macabre to me, this disembodied "Marie head."  I thought the two of them, Donny & Marie, far too happy, far too "pretty," and I thought their teeth were way too big and straight.  I didn't know Marie eventually had 8 kids.  And I certainly didn't know that her son committed suicide by jumping from his apartment window.  Oh, my.  I watched her weep on Thursday.  Eight months is nothing, when grieving the death of a child.  It hurts more at eight months than it did at 8 days -- a lot more.  The shock and denial have broken open into a deep pool of loss, a pool so deep you fear you might never surface again.  It shows on her face.  I love her for that.

I watched her rub her hand over the cover of a scrapbook her son made.  I know that gesture.  It's as though you might feel a bit of the person who owned it.  I watched her say, quietly, "My Baby."  I wept.  And I learned.  I realized, through the truth in her face, her gestures, her words, that I've been there.  I'm still there, sometimes.

And I realized that tomorrow is Eleanor's birthday.  Tomorrow, 42 years ago, I gave birth to my own walking miracle.

Isn't that little bald baby cute?  Yep, 42 years ago I was giving birth, and then 27 years ago, when she was 14 years old,  I was turning loose, I was grieving, I was stroking her things and saying, "My Baby."  She was struck down by a car and killed in the springtime, but forever in the autumn I'll remember her birth.

And my "disorder," my "upset," all became clear to me.  Yes, there is instability in my life right now.  There's a lot I don't know.  But tomorrow is her birthday.  Okay; no wonder.  I guess the rest of my life her birthday and death day will be not-so-great days for me, at least days when I give myself permission to be not-so-great.  It was a great relief to realize this, actually.  Now I can be sad, I can be lenient with myself, I can stop beating myself up and just be sad.  My darling child.

This is how she looked the fall before she died.  Not a "finished product," not the polished and beautiful image she might be at 25 or 30.  She was a kid, with too-long bangs and a blemish on her chin.  But look at that hair, look at those features, and especially at the life in those eyes.  She hated this picture; didn't even show me the proofs when the school pictures were taken.  After she died, I wrote to the company and they sent me these.

  Within weeks after she died, I dreamed of her.  This is how she looked.  We met on this beach and hugged, and I said to her, "So you're not dead, after all!"  And she nodded, and I awoke knowing she was okay.  I believe it.  I know it.  It's a huge comfort to me.  Someday, I'll see her again.

So OK.  I don't mean this to be a downer, but a source of hope and joy.  I came to understand myself better, and feel compassion for myself.  I came to honor and remember my baby.  After tomorrow, things will feel much better again, and I can adjust to the other uncertainties in my life.  I'm grateful for this person who enriched my life, who gave me so much.  Thank you, God.  Thank you, Eleanor.  Happy Birthday.

Autumn

Summer has come and gone since I've written.  But I've been reading my friends' blogs again, and it has inspired me to return.

Since the 3rd of June, my last post, much has happened.  I've had a birthday.  I've lost 27 pounds.  I've been on vacation.  It has been a wonderful summer, though very hot!

For my birthday I was in Indiana and Illinois, visiting family.  I had a wonderful time.  I had delicious strawberry shortcake at an urban church's strawberry festival, a huge affair where over 10,000 desserts were served!  I told them about my little church's festival in May, where we serve about 350.  But it was the same wonderful feeling of a church doing ministry all together, feeding the whole community.

My sister-in-law's yard was in fine form.

 

This is looking toward the neighbor's house.  SIL has had the landscapers in, and they've worked hard on it all.  Here's where I sat in the mornings to write in my journal:

On my actual birthday, I had lunch with 4 high school friends, two of whom I literally have not seen since high school graduation.  We were all part of the same crowd in high school, attending one another's slumber parties, crying on one another's shoulders, playing soccer with a crushed up soft drink can in front of the gym, and laughing till we cried on more occasions than I can count.  It fed my soul so to see them, and was truly the best gift I've received in a long time.  That night I went to dinner with my sister-in-law and her friends at a lovely Italian restaurant located right in the Terre Haute airport.  I had chicken piccata that was to die for, as I watched through the huge windows when a huge, bellowing, blowing, lashing rain storm swept across the tarmac.  I also watched videos on big screens showing scenes of Italy -- and it was such fun to say, "I've been there -- and there! -- and there!"

I had lunch one day with my brother Paul -- the only one still alive (my brothers were all 12+ years older than me).  He seemed his frisky old self, now a year after his beloved wife of many years died.  Ramona, we still miss you.

Then, in July, I went to Buffalo for 2 weeks, staying, as always, with my best friend in the world.  We had such fun!  She has the best little veggie garden on her upper front porch, and we ate a few things from it while I was there.

This is actually a shot from last year, so I got her pretty flower boxes (that we planted together), but not the veggie garden, in the corner where I'm standing to take this shot.  This year the porch was even more beautiful than last.

We spend weekdays at the campground, lazing along and barbecuing, going to the beach late in the afternoon and catching up on our reading (I read the first 2 Steig Larssen books, and two books about compulsive eating, which gave me much food for thought).

Oops, ignore that man -- it's Cheryl's partner and my good friend, Tom!  But you can see the camping trailer where we stay and the pretty, shaded lot where it's parked.  And this is what we saw every night we were there:

Oh, I'm not even sure this is a good example of the best of them!  But the campsite is literally steps from the lake (maybe 100 yards?), and after dinner it was delightful to walk down together and feast our eyes on the beauty of it.

On weekends, when the campground filled with noisy campers and many noisy motorized vehicles of various sorts (golf carts, ATVs, go-karts, motorcycles, and the beach with ski-dos and motorboats), we came back into town (about a 45-minute drive) and did city things, such as the stunningly beautiful Buffalo Garden Walk, movies, and parties with the girls.

Okay, this is a shot of Cheryl and her pretty table -- but quite frankly, when I was with the girls, I was having so much fun that I forgot to take the "girlfriend pictures" of all of us together that I love so much!

I drove home a happy woman.  We ate healthy, wonderful, fresh food, grilled meats, and drank lots of water (along with other libations!).  I maintained my weight -- even lost a couple more pounds.  My soul was filled with good friends and happy times.  I went to church at two cool churches, and got to talk to two cool priests that were new since I lived there.  Ah, it was the vacation that I needed last year and didn't get, because I was too busy in California and too sick in Buffalo.

Yes, I've had bothersome allergies on and off all summer.  But I learned to manage them!  Triumph!  Claritin-D is the antihistamine that works for me with minimal side effects (I believe different ones work best for different people), and also Nasonex nasal spray.  I've had to keep my house closed up and the cooling system fan running all the time, which is a great disappointment for me, as I love nothing better than open windows and fresh air blowing through, when it's cool enough.  But this is how I managed to keep things well under control, so I did not have a recurrence of the bronchitis that laid me so low for two months last summer.

So now I feel rested and energetic again.  This is a testimony for at least one good, refreshing vacation each year, and preferably two.  I've continued to lose a bit of weight, though the heat in Tennessee has resulted in me being less active during August, and now even into September.  My yoga studio closed, so I haven't done yoga regularly, either.  So the weight loss has slowed, and I'm struggling again.

My friend Susan (who's also our parish secretary) gave me a great 18-speed bike she wasn't using, and I've ridden it a few times.  Funny, though -- when I was in my 20s I did not own a car, and my only transportation was a bicycle.  I rode it everywhere, at first with my daughter in a little seat on the back, and then later, she followed me on her own little bike.  My 10-speed bicycle truly was almost like an extension of my own body.  It's not like that now in my late 50s, I can tell you!  It was a great surprise that riding uphill (on this very hilly Plateau) was difficult, even in the lowest gear!  What has happened, except for 3 decades and 80 pounds?  Huh?

But I am energized and excited about the season to come at church.  We're doing 4 sessions on Sunday morning about Christian healing, and it's a lively group of 6 of us.  The Bible study on Wednesday is finishing up our very long study of Exodus, and that's exciting, too.  This is the first time we've attempted a formal study of the "biblical theology" of a book of the bible (though I tend to think that's what we actually do each time we meet), and it's exciting to see people finding the theological themes or loci in the book, and learning more about God, more about humankind, more about judgment, compassion, and grace, as we review what we've discussed.  We'll soon wrap this up and our next study will be the Gospel of Luke.  I've started reading "The Wisdom Jesus" by Cynthia Bourgeault, and think maybe I'll have a book discussion on that for our next Sunday series.  Can you tell I'm well rested and ready to roll?

Just the last bit of wonderful news from my autumn is that my friend Sandi got a new Kindle for her anniversary, and she has given me her old one, already loaded with maybe 100 books, mostly detective novels!  What fun I'm having with it!  What a generous heart, for her to give me such a wonderful gift.  So I'm reading Steig Larssen's third ("The Girl Who Kicked the Hornet's Nest" -- I was waiting for it to come out in paperback), and next is the Sue Grafton "U" book.  Yay!  Lots of fiction to supplement the nonfiction that I'm also enjoying.

Now the colors are changing in my yard, and I'm about to uproot my dear veggie garden and reduce it in size by about half.  I'll keep the rhubarb, grapes, and herbs, and try to coax the asparagus to life again next spring.  But it's being reduced from a large, rectangular plot, to a smaller triangle.  The dear parishioner who built my gate is going to help me move my fence, and I've got to get out there and weed and remove the raised beds, so the job can be simply done.

I'm sure all of you are stopping to enjoy the fall.  Take time just to be in a few delicious moments -- as many as possible.  You'll never live these particular days again!

Holiday Weekend

Wow!  I checked a lot of categories; I guess I have a lot to say tonight.  It's the eve of a holiday for me -- not exactly a "holiday weekend," as my title implies, but a day off my normal routine, at least.  Ordinarily, it would have been Friday, Saturday, and Monday off, with only the morning service at church.  But this week I had a wedding rehearsal on Friday (with rehearsal dinner afterward), the wedding itself Saturday morning (with reception luncheon afterward), and two sermons to write, one for the wedding, one for Trinity Sunday at church.  So all I get is a day, but ah, what a lovely day I've got planned!  But sigh -- I don't think the weather is going to cooperate -- 60% chance of rain tomorrow. 

When I was a little girl, my mother and I would go camping on Memorial Day Weekend; it was the opening of the summer camping and recreation season.  Our habitual haunt was Raccoon Lake State Recreation Area, about 1/2 hour from our home.  We would set up our tent in a campsite just inside the edge of the woods, so there was plenty of shade, and plenty of trees from which my mother would string rope to hang large sheets of plastic.  The plastic sheltered our campsite from rain, but also from any debris that might fall from the trees.  It made a cozy, covered "living space" under which we'd place our picnic tables, our food and supplies, and our Coleman camp stove.  The campfire would be outside the plastic "roof," of course.  My camping memories are lovely ones, but it nearly always rained on Memorial Day weekend.  There was usually enough sunshine and warmth to make the adventure worthwhile, but yes, we got rain, too.  Memorial Day Weekend was always punctuated with the plip, plip, plip of raindrops on the plastic overhead, with a wet sleeping bag where our canvas tent got wet, and the need to wear warm jeans, socks, and a sweatshirt, rather than the brand new swimsuit and flip flops I had for the summer. So tomorrow will remind me of my childhood camping days, I fear.

Some of the things I've planned I can still do inside, rather than outside on my porch:

A little creative work can certainly be done inside, though I confess that it really feels more like carefree play when I'm on the sunny back porch.

But there are also lots of things that can't happen inside, and almost certainly won't happen.  I can't really burn my brush pile at all, because we got a couple of downpours today.  It really takes 2-3 days of dry weather to dry out my brush well enough to burn, especially since some of it is still fairly green and recent trimming, and some fair-size logs that I pulled out of the wood chips that were given to me.

I'm not going to want to wrestle wood-chip mulch for my labyrinth in the rain.

I'm not sure even one whole day could make much progress in my veggie garden.  I was actually going to pay someone to come and help me clear out the jungle that it has become, but he called a couple of days ago and said he's been in an auto accident, and now he really can't help me.  If I still want help, I'm going to have to find someone else.  Of course, the pouring rain is a pretty good time to pull weeds -- lots of nice, soft earth, if I don't mind getting filthy and soaked (but that's the gardener's lot, anyway!).

So this probably isn't going to happen for me tomorrow, but I may get something done:

Oh, my, but it looks so lovely and orderly!

But perhaps I'll get a run with the dogs in between rain showers.  My weight loss is continuing; I'm still keeping my rules about increasing activity and eating salads and not drinking alcohol (though I had 2 glasses of wine at the wedding rehearsal dinner).  I'm a little frustrated because I seem to have hit a plateau last week, despite good behavior (I do expect it after 14 pounds, and am surprised it didn't come sooner!), and now over the weekend, I ate and drank more than I should have, even though I came home and was a perfect little paragon of dietary virtue.  So that scale isn't really budging just now -- but it will again, O it will!  A new indulgence I've discovered is Crystal Light Sunrise Tangerine Strawberry.  Oh, yum, yum.  I've known about Crystal Light since the first time I went to Weight Watchers in 1989, but I never tried it until just a couple of weeks ago.  Oh, my.  Oh, yum.  It kind of reminds me of having a pitcher of Kool-Aid around when I was a young married girl.  My only caution is that I can just about overdose on Aspartame, if I'm not careful.  And despite what I heard at Weight Watchers oh, these many years ago, it really doesn't substitute for good, clear, filtered water.

Today, of course, I preached on the doctrine of the Trinity, since it's Trinity Sunday.  If you're even slightly interested, I highly recommend Karen Armstrong's latest, The Case for God.  She does a really, really great job of describing the development of the doctrine of the Trinity, which was originally intended as a spiritual exercise that, rather than being fully understood, was meant to show us how utterly incomprehensible God actually is.  We were never meant to understand the Trinity.  And furthermore, faith originally had little to do with intellectual comprehension and agreement, but rather with loyalty and commitment.  Whether I understand the Trinity, whether I agree with the Church's doctrine of the Trinity, I stand behind and within it, and I commit my whole being to the Triune God and the teachings of Christ.  That's all that really matters!

While we're talking about books, I'm also listening to a really great one.  Most of my fiction "reading" is done in the car as I drive on my daily errands, visits, and meetings.  I'm currently listening to The Help by Kathryn Stockett.  It's one I can barely "put down" -- I want to just keep driving and driving so I can hear more and more of this story.

So tomorrow I plan to sleep in (which seems to mean about 7:30 these days, since I go to bed so early), get some exercise, and do some creative work.  I plan to play a lot and work just a little.  I might get some yard work done.  I feel very grateful for this good little life of mine.  I hope you all have something delicious planned for your day off!

Well, Okay, It's Pentecost...

...and I'm finally back!  Don't even ask me where I've been, what's taken so long.  I've been mostly around, but distracted by ever so very many things.  I did attend a short conference in Newark last month, quite inspiring and informative.  My role there was as Board Chair for our church's Jubilee Ministry, the Cumberland Adult Reading Council.

Otherwise, I've been struck down with allergies for about 6 weeks.  Now, I'm not someone who has had allergies, but as I get older (and yes, fatter), these things bother me more and more.  I got to feeling absolutely sick with them -- in fact, I thought I was sick, at first.  Of course, I was ignoring the yellow film of pollen that coated every inch of my house, inside and out.  It was my favorite season to have the windows open, the air and heat both turned off, and fresh air blowing through.  When I finally realized that allergies were the problem, not illness, I decided that my focus needed to be on learning to manage them, since it seemed that I would have to live with them.  Everyone I spoke to said that the level of allergens in the air has been extraordinary this year, probably due to a long winter, a cool, delayed spring -- and everything deciding to bloom all at once!

So I read up on allergy management on the web, and I asked everyone I know.  I closed up my house and turned the fan permanently on (to filter and re-filter the air), I dusted my house thoroughly (well, I got my cleaning lady to dust and vacuum carefully while I was at the conference), I bought a neti pot, and I went in search of an antihistamine that didn't immobilize me.  Claritin-D is my magic pill.  I do know that different brands work for different people, but this one works for me.  Once I could put aside my resentment at even having allergies at all, and having to close up my house during the beautiful springtime, then I could accept the fact that lots and lots of people have to live with allergies and learn to manage them.  I was determined not to be incapacitated as I was for 2 months last summer.  And I did it!  I got through the very worst of the worst of allergy season.

Presently, though, I've been off my antihistamines for 4 days, and I can even lie down to sleep again (previously I had to be propped up to a nearly sitting position to sleep, to avoid that postnasal cough that laid me so low last year).  I've been sleeping like a rock, 8 hours straight and waking up groggy like I could sleep 8 more.  It feels so good to get good rest!

And I've been working outside.  The electric company gave me 2 truckloads of wood chips from their trimming up and down our highway, so I've got lots of mulch for paths and my labyrinth.  I've also started work to reduce the size of one of my front beds -- to much garden for me to maintain.  I have thriving black walnut trees that I have to uproot with a pitchfork and mattock -- the squirrels harvest the black walnuts that grow profusely around my house and the church, and they like to bury them in my flower beds!  Everything has been so unkempt, but this has been a glorious year for flowers!  Here are a few that I just shot today:

I think you can click on any of these to get bigger pictures.  This is just one tiny bit of what's blooming in my gardens -- you can see that the flowers are flourishing.  My veggie garden is another story, however.  Yes, I have rhubarb, raspberries, herbs, grapes, and one tiny, neglected asparagus that has gone to fern.  But I'm completely overgrown with ragweed, thistle, and other nasties.  I've got no annual garden veggies in, not even my beloved tomatoes.  Between allergies, busy-ness at church, the half-moved fence that I haven't finished, I just have not had the energy to tackle it.  In fact, I'm going to pay someone to renovate it for me!  I may get a few late crops in this year.  I'm so ashamed of it that I won't even take pictures of it.  But, as Anne Sexton really did say, "There is hope.  There is hope everywhere.  Today God gives milk, and I have the pail."  Things may yet happen.

And here are a few signs of hope:

Lots of promise here.  It looks like it'll be a good year for the sweet-tart English apples in the back, for grapes, for the golden delicious apples in the driveway, and yes, for wild blackberries in the part of the yard that never gets cleaned out, the part that faces the highway.  So yep, lots of promise, indeed.  Hope, indeed.

Oh, yeah, at church we also doubled the size of our gravel parking lot in two long, hot days:

 

The men's group also threw in some weeding and mowing with the job they did on the parking lot, amazing guys that they are.  I spent the first day fetching lunch orders, making fresh-brewed sweet and unsweet tea, serving donuts as a mid-morning snack, and making sure the water was iced and ready for thirsty, sweaty workers.  You'll have to enlarge these pictures to really see what's going on, but in the third picture, down by the dump truck, there's a tulip-poplar tree they left standing -- just for me!  They removed 3 other trees from that little cluster -- all growing too close together.  I hate removing healthy trees, but decided to bite my tongue, as the men were doing such a great ministry to the church.  What I discovered was that by being very meek, I won one healthy tree!  It was worth it.  Big-mouth little sister that I am, it has taken me nearly 58 years to learn the art of keeping my mouth shut once in a while!

We also had one heck of a great strawberry festival, the 3rd Saturday in May!

A really good time was had by all, we fed a record number of people, and also raised a record number of dollars for the church from this event.  It was a ton of work, but we all work together, and it really does bring us closer together as a parish.  I remind them each year of how it's such a clear sign of the Spirit working within and among us.

And finally, I want to tell you about my big project for the year, which actually subsumes a number of projects within its scope:  I intend to lose weight.  A lot of weight.  I reached a spectacular, horrifying, all-time high weight on March 5, 2010.  I got on the scale for what must have been the first time in months, and I almost passed out from horror at the number I saw.  No, I'm not going to even tell you what it was, but it was way too high.  Mind-numbingly, health-threateningly high.  And it took me a few weeks to figure out what I was going to do, but it was like waking up from a long, bad dream.  I realized, really realized for the first time that my mother's sister had Type I diabetes, and I see relatives all around me developing Type II.  I'm just pushing my luck and asking for trouble here.  I also realized that in 2 years I'll be 60.  Why would I head into a new decade, and into at least the threshold of old age, without giving myself every health advantage that I possibly can?  Why am I doing this to myself?

So I'll share my simple strategy.  It's not brain surgery -- we all know what to do.

• I've given up alcohol altogether for now.  I had a bad habit of drinking daily, or nearly so -- and I think it was playing hell with my metabolism and the way my body was processing carbohydrates.
• I've taken up activity again: walking and running with my dogs, yard work, yoga classes.  Since the time I was so sick last summer, my vigorous activity was sporadic to nonexistent.  No more.  The older I get, the more crucial activity is for my weight loss.
• I eat at least one salad every single day (with a very few exceptions).  I need the veggies.
• I'm drinking lots and lots of water and other non-carbonated liquids.
• I'm really working at getting plenty of rest.
• I'm thinking about trying Overeaters Anonymous in one or more of its several incarnations.
  

How's that for a start?  I have to say, I'm down 14 pounds from where I was on March 5.  I'm down a full size in clothes.  Now that I've really started the journey, about the first of this month, I'm losing at the rate of 3 pounds a week.  The more I lose, the more I'm motivated to lose.  The more I move, the more I'm motivated to move.  I hope I can lose at this rate for a while longer, though I know it will slow down as I lose more.  I hope to reach my goal weight by the end of the year.  What a gift I'm giving myself!

And my owls?  Three of the four are flying now.  Max, Pattison, and Austin are all flying as soon as the sun sets.  I enjoy the chat room community there, as well.  And little Wesley should fly within the next day or two.  Certainly by the end of June, they'll all be fully fledged and gone from the owl box.  I feel a little sad to think about the end of my journey with these owls.  I've been watching them since the day after the oldest one hatched.  I've seen them go from blind, pink, naked little hatchlings to darling, fuzzy little chicks, to nearly fully feathered adolescent owlets.  I've seen them take their first steps outside the box, seen them fly for the first time.  Now they'll learn to hunt, and then they'll be off on their own.

So yes, it's Pentecost.  It's the end of the Great Fifty Days of Easter.  Things quiet down around the church this time of year, and I begin to think about vacations and fresh tomatoes and cold glasses of unsweet iced tea.  I told my congregation this morning that Pentecost is the celebration of the coming of the Holy Spirit: the time when the Church received the last tool it needed to get on with living a Resurrection life.  And I feel that I'm living an abundant, fulfilling, Resurrection life myself.  I hope I'll post here more often this summer.

Most of all, I hope that all who are reading this are having happy, abundant lives, too.