One Wild and Precious Life

Monsters Among Us?

This is my sermon for today.  I finished it Saturday night, but this morning something wouldn't leave me alone - a conversation with a friend that I had last week.  You'll see if you read it.

Lectionary Readings for Christmas 1, Year C:  Psalm 147; Isaiah 61:10-62:3; Galatians 3:23-25, 4:4-7; John 1:1-18

Well, I know I say this a lot, but these are definitely the best lectionary readings we get in the total three-year cycle of readings!  These readings are full of all the best – the love and promises in Isaiah and Galatians, the grandeur of the Gospel, the images from nature in the Psalm:  mountains and grass, birds, horses, snow and frost – and the Psalm’s beautiful promises, as well, of the gathering up, healing, and rebuilding of God’s people, with the refrain that Mary sang to us last week, of lifting up the lowly and casting down the wicked.  Beautiful.  Consoling.  Great cause for ongoing celebration in this ongoing festival season of Christmas (today is the 6^th day).

And yet….and yet.  Probably not many Episcopalians know what day we observed on Friday.  Anybody here?  And if you do know what day Friday was, did you know before you read your Episcopal Calendar?  On Friday, we Christians who observe such things marked the day that commemorates the Slaughter of the Holy Innocents.  It’s that day when Herod, in a paranoid rage about the birth of the “new king,” sent his troops in to slaughter “all the children in or around Bethlehem who were two years old or under.”  You can read about that in Matthew, Chapter 2, verses 16-18.  It’s when an angel appeared to Joseph in a dream (I love the way Matthew includes so many dreams) and told him to take Mary and Jesus into Egypt, to escape the slaughter.  I’m not sure why we celebrate it before Epiphany, before the coming of the Magi, since it was that occasion on which Herod learned of this “new king” and sent the Magi to find him.  The Magi, having also had a dream, “left for their own country by another road,” and that’s when Herod, in his paranoid rage, slaughtered the innocents.  Perhaps we celebrate it now for the very reason of seeing the shadows in the light of Christmas, and the light of the miracle amidst the horror.  Herod, from the distance of 2 millennia, seems pretty much like a monster.  Who would slaughter innocent children?  And this year when we commemorate Holy Innocents, many of us can’t help but think of Newtown Connecticut, two weeks ago.

 On Friday I had a conversation that I can’t get out of my head.  A friend of mine was insisting that Adam Lanza, the shooter of those children, is a monster – a mysteriously malformed, mutant human being who we can never understand.  And I kept insisting that he was a human being, not so terribly different than the rest of us human beings.  I guess I was too steeped in my thoughts of how God would see Adam Lanza – pretty much like God sees the rest of us – a terribly flawed sinner, for sure – but also a soul to be loved and saved, a lost sheep in need of being found, a poor, beaten soul in need of a Good Samaritan – a Samaritan helper that Adam Lanza never was able to find.  I argued that if we insist on classifying the perpetrators of these terrible crimes as “monsters,” and the solution as simply identifying and locking up or killing these monsters, then we never solve the problem.  We never ask the next question:  How has our culture helped for mis-shape and mal-form these monsters?  God’s creation is very good.  God didn’t create a monster.  If he is a monster, then I say that monsters are made, not born.  And we seem to be making more of them, because these crimes keep happening more and more often.  What can we do to stop ourselves from making monsters?  Those are questions worth asking.  And I believe that it takes some empathy, some compassion (some com-passion – some feeling with) in order to solve the problem.  I think if we as individuals and a culture can’t be aware of and in touch with our own darker, shadow side, we have little hope of solving the problem.  You know what I say about our shadow, our dark side – if we don’t face and admit it head-on, it will sneak up behind us and bite us when we least expect it.  I made a list for myself that night – ways in which I am like Adam Lanza, experiences I may have had that are similar to his. Of course I can't possibly know -- I never knew Adam Lanza.  But I can make some pretty good guesses; I’m going to share that list with you.

1.  I know what it’s like to feel like a weird misfit.  I've lived there.
2. I know what it’s like to be made fun of.
3. I know what it’s like to ask for help, to really need help, and not get it.  On the other hand, I also know how it feels when I need help and someone reaches out and helps me.  It's mostly emotional help I'm talking about here.
4. I know what it’s like to be so enraged that I want to hurt and/or kill people.
5. I know what it’s like to feel desperate to escape some crisis or life circumstance, even if it means dying.
6. I know what it feels like to want to fit in and be like everyone else, and not be able to figure out how to do it.
7. I know how it feels to be imprisoned in my own introversion and my own perceptions and misperceptions.

 I made that list in about 5 minutes.  I bet if I took some more time, I could double it.  Now, I don’t want you to worry about me.  I have the psychological strengths not to follow through on any of those shadowy, dark feelings.  And I’ve only felt or experienced most of them for moments at a time, or a few hours -- or even a period of a few bad days -- rather than as a way of life, the way Adam Lanza must have.  All I’m saying is that those dark feelings have all lived inside me – and by the grace of God, I’ve had the strength and sanity to resist them, to wait them out till they passed, to get help with them, to know that things get better.  Adam Lanza didn’t have the strength and wisdom that I do, by the grace of God, or by my upbringing, or good genes, or whatever gives me what he didn't have that lets me survive and thrive.  I do believe that it’s from a place of some understanding, even if it’s partial understanding, and a place of empathy and compassion, that we can begin to love our neighbor, and to help solve our neighbor’s problem – which often has a way of becoming our own problem, too – we’ve learned that, writ large, lately.

 And now, and yet, we’re still in the Christmas fetival.  Even remembering those Holy Innocents long ago, those Holy Innocents more recently, we’re called to rejoice and hear the good news.  We’re called to revel in Isaiah’s words, to hear them as though we are saying them ourselves – not as Isaiah’s words, but as our own – as God’s children, God’s heirs, as Galatians reminds us.  Isaiah says, “…I will rejoice…My whole being will exult…he has clothed me with garments of salvation, as a bridegroom decks himself… as a bride adorns herself….You shall be a crown of beauty…”  I shall be…we shall be, for Isaiah is addressing Israel.  A crown of beauty, and a royal diadem in the hand of our God.”  Wow.  This part of Isaiah that we read today was written when the exile was over, and the people felt that God’s promises to Israel were once again flowering to fulfillment.  It’s a big mistake if we read scripture only as an old, dusty, historical story.  Scripture is talking to us now – and not just in the waning hours of 2012, but in this Christmas season – this season of wonder and miracle and the time when God has come to live with us.  It’s the time when God’s promises are being fulfilled for us, too.  This is the time for us to look at our own lives and see how God’s promises are fulfilled for us.  This is our job as Christians.  This is not an abstract process – just like solving our contemporary societal problems cannot be done in the abstract.  We start, when we study scripture, from the assumption that the promises of scripture, that God’s word is true, and it’s our job to figure out how that takes shape in our lives.  We start from the assumption that it’s our perception that may be faulty or incomplete, and that our life task is to continue to hone and clarify our perception -- to get to see our life and our world through something a little more like God's eyes. It’s up to us to figure out how the promises have been fulfilled in our own life.  Some people can do it alone; most of us need help.  We need to study and read; we need to work in groups; we need a spiritual director.  All of these are tools that can help us see God in our life.

 Paul tells us (I love Galatians -- “foolish Galatians,” he says elsewhere in the letter.  “Who has bewitched you?”) that before Christ, we had the law to tell us how to live.  Now we have a model, a brother.  Now we have been adopted into God’s family.  We are no longer slaves to the law, obeying blindly.  Now we’re children, heirs.  We’re part of God’s family, and we learn by watching our big brother, Jesus, just like most kids learn.

 Then we have this Gospel.  Oh, you’ve gotta know I love this Gospel.  John is the most difficult of the four gospels to understand, but this passage, right at the beginning, is so beautiful.  And we know who the Word is, but do we know what that means?  “The Word” is the shorthand for God’s wisdom.  Jesus is the Wisdom of God.  Much more than that, of course, because God’s words were also things like “Let there be light.”  A Creative Force.  God spoke it, and it came into being.  So Jesus is God’s Creative Force, God’s Wisdom.  We also know that Jesus is a clear or pure reflection of God, the essence of who God is.  You know I tell you, if you want to know what God's like, look at Jesus.

 And here’s the promise – the good news in this Gospel – this is the family we’ve been adopted into!  This is the one with whom we are co-heirs of the kingdom, of all that is God’s!  That’s pretty amazing!  We’ll never figure out what all that means, for sure.  What might it mean to be adopted into the family of the Word?  To be co-heirs with the Word, the Wisdom, the Creative Force of God?  What might God have in mind for us?  What gifts might God just be waiting to give us?  And importantly, how are we called to share those gifts?  How can we use our knowledge and experience of God’s gifts to share good news and love our neighbor, to reach out with compassion and make the world a better place?  It’s part of what God wants us to know this Christmas, part of what God wants us to ponder and dream about.  Amen.

Sabbatical!

Yes, I'm on sabbatical.  Last night I tried my first blog post of the trip, and got hung up by the length of time it took to post photos.  So maybe I'll try again, but not right now.  I need to work on reducing their size for blog posting, I think.

My first question is, how did I ever get so lucky to have work that gives me 3 months of paid leave for "true sabbath," that is, "rest," every 5-7 years?  I certainly didn't know about this when I was in discernment for the priesthood -- I didn't choose this vocation (well, I didn't really choose it anyway -- it kind of chose me) based on getting a sabbatical.  I think I first heard about this when I was graduating from seminary, but I never really dreamed it could happen for me! I tried to plan a sabbatical 3 years ago, and nothing seemed to work out right.  This time, after nearly 10 years at St. Raphael's, everything just seemed to fall into place in the most wonderful ways.

So now I have embarked on the adventure of a lifetime.  I don't think I've had three months off work since the summer after my freshman year of high school.

My plans are in three parts.  The first two weeks I spent with my family, staying with my sister-in-law in Illinois, and haunting Terre Haute, Indiana, where I grew up.  I took many sentimental journeys there, revisiting places and people that meant (and still mean) lots to me in my growing up years.  As I said, I hope to post pictures:  of the 2 houses where I spent my childhood, schools I attended, etc.  I also had the opportunity to spend time with 2 of my life's best friends -- women I've known since we all were 13 years old.  And I had a lovely visit with my one remaining brother, Paul, who was my childhood companion, and who is the only remaining person alive who has known me since I was born (well, except for my Uncle John, whom I haven't seen in decades).

Things aren't always working out as I'd planned (thanks, John Lennon, for saying that life is what happens when you're busy making other plans), but I feel like a sponge, soaking up every experience, every adventure, and learning from it all.  So far, it's wonderful.  Miraculous, even.  I'm eating well and abstinently (no flour, sugar, or alcohol, weighed and measured quantities, regular calls to my dear, long-suffering sponsor).  I'm feeling such gratitude.  I even heard God in church (where else?) last Sunday -- it's great not to have to be "in charge," and just go and sing and listen.  Life is amazing right now.

Now I'm in Buffalo, NY (well, near there, anyway), camping by the lake in my friend Cheryl's cozy, sweet little trailer, and using a mobile hot-spot that I purchased in order to have the internet while I'm here.  My plan is to be here by the lake during the week, when the campground is nearly empty, and then be in Buffalo on the weekends, doing city things.  I'm also hoping to get a lot of writing done.  I'll be here for the next 4 weeks with my faithful dogs -- and with Cheryl, too, beginning next week.  Today it was beautiful in the morning, and then it rained, which was also nice.  I've experimented with my camera's auto-timer, and taken pictures of myself outside, alone and with the dogs.  It's the kind of day when it's hard to know what to wear -- it's damp, so feels cool, but too warm for jeans and sweaters.  So I keep changing clothes.

I've had time for reading (Cynthia Bourgeault, "The Meaning of Mary Magdalene;" Phil Cousineau, "The Art of Pilgrimage;" Richard Rohr, "Breathing Under Water;" Diane Mott Davidson, "Fatally Flaky," and more and more to come).  I've been catching up on Jack's Blog, which I'm enjoying very much.  I've been catching up on email.  I've been taking naps.  I've even been reading Facebook from time to time! Sunday I got to finally see "The Best Exotic Marigold Hotel."  I guess it would be hard to go wrong with the cast it has, but I was simply enchanted.  I could have stayed with those people and watched their lives the whole night, and was sad when the 2 hours was over.

I'm also listening to a lot of old music -- revisiting the past, I guess.  Before I left, I downloaded Beach Boys (yes, it feels like 1966), Neil Diamond (yes, it feels like 1973), the BeeGees (yes, it feels like 1982), James Taylor (1971).  Oh, music can take me right back to how it felt back then!  I've also got "Graceland," the Beatles, and "Born in the USA," and I keep thinking of more music I want.

The next leg of my great sabbatical adventure is Europe -- 5 weeks in Belgium, France, Spain, and Italy.  Parishioners have given me a week's time share in southern Italy and a week in southern Spain.  I'll be chasing black madonnas all over the continent!  I'm particularly excited about seeing Paris, about which I've had dreams -- literal, night-dreams, though I've never been there, and about all the madonnas I'll be near in southern France and northern Spain.  It's truly going to be a once-in-a-lifetime trip -- unless my retirement dreams of winters in Sicily and summers in the US really work out.

So I'll be writing and adventuring and posting more here.  Stay tuned!

It's Sunday!

And it's the Second Sunday of Easter, the 8th day of the Great Fifty Days.  Here's today's sermon; I'm also going to give links to my Holy Week sermons.  When I forget to post them here, they can always be found at our parish website. 

Download Easter 2B, April 15, 2012

Download Palm Sunday B, April 1, 2012

Download Maundy Thursday, April 5, 2012

Download Good Friday B, April 6, 2012

Download Great Vigil B, April 7, 2012

Download Easter Sundayl B, April 8, 2012

Enough with the files!  If I had to choose a couple to recommend, it would probably be Good Friday and maybe Maundy Thursday, but of course, I like them all!

Today was a stunningly gorgeous day, mostly sunny and mid-70s.  It was a perfect day to spend doing any number of things: a bike ride, reading and writing on the back porch, a little yard work.  Unfortunately, Sundays are usually "lost days" for me, after I've had my lunch.  Introvert that I am, church wears me out more than the work I do any other day of the week.  I love church, don't get me wrong -- and love seeing the people and being the extroverted "shepherd" for the day.  But it truly does wear me out.  Anyone who understands introversion from the Myers-Briggs Type Inventory will understand that.  So usually I go to lunch with one very gracious parishioner; today we went to Cookeville (next town west of here, twice the size of Crossville), ate lunch at Cheddars, and shopped a bit at TJ Maxx, one of my all-time favorite places to shop.  Then, as usual, it was home to the sofa for a nap. Zzzzzzz.

Now I'm about to watch Gloria Steinem on Oprah (two of my heroes, right together on the same show), then a new reality show on Bravo that I've become addicted to ("The Shahs of Sunset"), then my evening journal reflection, complete with list of gratitudes for the day, then it will be bedtime already.

It was a perfectly lovely day.  I'll also read a little before bed -- 2 pages of my AA Big Book, then a bit from a new Kindle book I got, The Meaning of Mary Magdalene: Discovering the Woman at the Heart of Christianity by Cynthia Bourgeault.  I enjoyed her The Wisdom Jesus immensely. 

Let me know what you think of Oprah, Gloria Steinem, Mary Magdalene, and Cynthia Bourgeault.

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.

Goats

Okay, my friend Fran posted this You-Tube of goats on her blog.  It was so darned cute that I couldn't resist sharing it with you.  I also put it on ny facebook, but I can't get a picture to share with you.  It's very cute, though -- go watch it.  I have parishioners who raise goats, and she describes one stage of "kid-hood" as deet-dee-deet-dee-deedley-deet."  That's what these babies are doing.  If you watch this video, you'll also see links to lots and lots more of them.  What fun!

My friend Fran also is immersed in lots of art-making.  She is a trained facilitator for Soul Collage, and makes really fine pieces herself.  I miss doing that, and may drag out my own collage book and work on a page.  This is, of course, a way to avoid what I really need to be doing, which is gathering, wrapping, and mailing Christmas gifts, finding who's left gift-less on my list, and making plans to purchase and send those gifts, post-haste.  I'm terrible about gifts, and mostly get them out before Epiphany.  Some years, if things are busy at church, I admit I don't get them out at all.  That's especially egregious as my friends and family are so very good about making sure that I have gifts to open on Christmas morning, since my holidays are spent mostly alone.  There's nothing nicer than coming in after Midnight Mass and opening a gift or two before bed.  Then I rewrite my sermon for the morning as I listen to carols, and fall into bed, only to get up Christmas morning for another service.

My Buddhist book group was cancelled today because an ice storm is expected.  We're studying Pema Chodron's Start Where You Are, one chapter per month -- and the chapters are really short!  But I'm finding that the month really gives me time to make the material part of who I am, part of my own thought process.

I find much of what Chodron says to be helpful in my dealings with other people, and in my parish work.  For a long time I've felt as though there's great overlap between Christian spiritual or wisdom teaching and Buddhist teaching.  This was first brought home to me when reading Thich Nhat Hanh.  Marcus Borg also refers to it in Reading the Bible Again for the First Time.  There are lots of conservative Episcopalians who would find my saying this horrifying, but it's true -- anyone can see it, if they take the time to do a little reading and study.

It has been so cold here that I've been drinking lots of hot tea -- decaf chai, whole milk, no sugar.  I make it in my coffee maker -- just run hot water through into the pot where the tea bags await.  A pot can last me a day or even two sometimes.  I use 8 bags for 10 cups of hot water, and just leave the bags in till the tea is all gone.  It doesn't get bitter or too strong.  Or maybe my taste buds are just failing me!

Everyone stay safe and warm, and pray that no harm or damage come to us up here on the Plateau, if the ice storm really hits.

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.

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!

Long Time Gone

Well,  now that I check back, it has been a really long time -- more than a month -- since I've posted here.  Unlike lots of you whom I read, it isn't about spending more time on Facebook.  For me, it's about summer, travel, and being sick.  This could be fairly long, and I have lots of pictures.  Be prepared.  Here are only a couple that were from General Convention in California:

The convention center was huge, though I'll admit I didn't venture above the ground floor.  There was a huge escalator that looked four stories high, but I admit I was halfway intimidated by a recent television show I watched when a large escalator fell, a woman was trapped in a mob of falling people, and nearly had herself shredded.  Think giant, multi-story shredder of humans.  Now I'm sure I would have ridden it, or found an elevator, if I had been sufficiently motivated.  But it seemed there was more than I could handle on the  first floor.  I loved our sign, though -- so typical of the Episcopal Church -- our shield, which is recognized by all Episcopalians, and the words, "welcomes you," which embodies what we're about as Episcopalians, I hope.  Then there was this shot: 

This was the Hilton, immediately perpendicular to one end of the Convention Center, where we were lucky enough to get to stay.  It was a very good place to stay, even though I was glad to get home to breathing real, outdoor air after two weeks of very little of that.  Still, I'm grateful for such luxurious and convenient accommodations, since most of the rest of our deputation were also in the Hilton, and most especially the Bishop, in whose suite we met each day for lunch.

It actually wasn't very hard to adjust to seeing palm trees everywhere -- I guess at home, here on the Cumberland Plateau, I'm not that far from South Carolina, where I also get to see palm trees.  The weather, though, was delightful.

Now I came home from Anaheim, and tried to catch up on all I missed in the 14 days I was gone.  I also had a sermon to write on the Saturday night I arrived home.  The sermon part wasn't hard, though, because I knew I could talk about what happened at General Convention.  People like to hear about the larger church, and also what I've been up to while I was gone from them.  But then there was (were?) two weeks' of mail and business to accomplish in a week, before I left again for a vacation in Buffalo.

Then I went to see my friend Cheryl's new house.  Well, it's new to her, but it was actually built right near the turn of the century.  It's a lovely double, with a luxurious first-floor flat (with reliable tenants), an even more beautiful second-floor flat, where Cheryl lives, after considerable work, and an unfinished third floor "servants' quarters" residence with plumbing already installed, where it's my fantasy that I'll live out the summers of my retirement.  It's a true classic, great neighborhood, well-preserved woodwork and fireplace, etc.  There's a huge front porch, wide as the house, and with sturdy awning framework in place (no canvas awning yet).  Here's a beautiful shot or two of the front porch:

  The leaves on the awning framework are fake -- and interspersed with tiny white lights.  When Cheryl explained it all to me, she said, "It reminded me of the rooftop patio in Naples, where we drank that bottle of wine and talked.  And yes, I could see it clearly.  I don't care what they look like to others (though my stubborn Sicilian friend, Cheryl's partner Tom, did grudgingly admit they were "nice"), darn it, when I sat out there with her, I could remember being in Naples (where I'll be again in 4 weeks!).  You see the three beautiful flower boxes -- this photo shows only half of the beautiful front deck.  We were aiming, in late Buffalo Summer, for the effect of Venice, where the flowerboxes were abundantly overflowing wherever we went.  I planted one, to help Cheryl get started, then she planted another FIVE all by herself, and they were all beautiful.  I am grateful for this vacation.  I loved seeing Cheryl, and her beautiful new house.  We even had a few days at the lake, which I also love.  What I didn't love was coming down with bronchitis while I was there.  I got to sit at that lovely table you see every morning, drinking coffee, writing in my journal, just enjoying the great outdoors of a city I love.  But within two days I had developed a cough (allergies, they said), and before long, I was awake at night, coughing my lungs out.  Whatever caused it, I managed to let it get bad enough to make me really sick.  The vacation was a disappointment to both of us, I think, because usually I'm eager to go and see and do, or at least to stay up late enjoying one another's company.  But I spent a lot of this week in bed, or on the sofa.

The drive home was also miserable, and I'm a great lover of driving.  I was so sick that I felt absolutely unsafe.  When I came home I encountered a whole series of disappointments in a minor scale, and when I finally saw my doctor on the following Monday, she thought I had pneumonia.  Thank God she could see me.  Thank God I could get antibiotics and a cough syrup.  But here's where I've spent a goodly portion of the month of August:

Yeah.  Sigh.  I got home on the 8th,  saw the doc on the 10th, and have spent a goodly amount of time here.  Propped up, just like in the pic.  I finally realized (with the help of some parishioners) that if I prop myself up, I'm less likely to drown in mucous (sorry).  Even this past week, 2 weeks after I saw the doctor, I was still coughing and had post-nasal drip, which threatened to progress into more of the same.  And I have a trip to Italy in 3.5 weeks!  I have to be well.  My activity practices (running each morning with the dog, yoga 2-3 times a week) also ceased, so I'm more out of shape than I've been in 4 years.  But after a re-consultation with the doctor and some self-medication as well (I think I need a drying-up decongestant, as well as an allergy-treating antihistamine), I'm finally resembling something akin to health.  I've taken several 20-minute brisk walks (as opposed to my prior 30-40 minute runs), and today  I actually got some yard work done.

When I visited Buffalo, I also spent some time with my friend Janet, who is a gardener of great gifts.  She showed me and talked to me about her gardens, and I was re-inspired to attend to my own yard.  I won't even show you to gone-to-pot (not literally!) veggie garden, but here's what my front walk and steps have looked like for several weeks now:

Notice the overgrown condition of the spiderwort, especially.  Not only is it encroaching onto (and has rooted into) the front steps, but it has completely overgrown the two beds on either side.  I feel like I'm wading through a sea of weeds and chiggers each time I approach my house.  Yuck.

So I've been sick.  Which not only has let my weeds grow unimpeded, but makes me feel like a pile of crap, besides.  I spend time lying on the sofa, torn between episodes of "American Justice" and "Dr. Phil/Oprah" (aren't they really the same show?), and berating myself for all I'm not doing -- at the church, around the house, and everywhere else.  Anyway, as I began to feel better, and this entryway became the source of great annoyance to me, I decided to follow some good advice to set a timer for 15 minutes, and then again and again, if I felt like it, and see how much I could get done.  As always, we surprise ourselves; I surprised myself.  Here's what all that mess looked like after 15 minutes:

You see that the steps have been mostly cleared up.  The bushes to the right and left of the sidewalk are more clearly defined (by the removal of overgrowth).  There's still some growth on the steps themselves, and lots of scrap and debris on the sidewalk.  I set my timer for 15 minutes again, and of course, the timer went off, and I hadn't accomplished all I wanted.  So I kept going.  I didn't time myself, but I suspect the time I spent was about 45 minutes total.  Not bad for an old gal with residual allergies and/or bronchitis.  Here's what it looked like at the end:

All cleaned up, and 45-60 minutes total.  In this particular shot, I've even removed the HUGE pile of clippings and pullings -- enough to pile a wheelbarrow higher than is prudent.  Oh, I think it looks lovely.  I needed to spend a little time making things look nice out front again.  When I walked the dogs at 6:00, I enjoyed every second of approaching the porch.  I had also pulled the poison ivy that was growing over the front sidewalk.  When the men of the church had a workday, they didn't get it  out, so I finally had to, despite my fears of contamination.  But I don't seem to have contracted anything as yet, so I'm pretty sure I've got it made.

Anyway, I wanted to fill you all in on my comings and goings, my  ups and downs (mostly downs, unfortunately).  And why I haven't talked to you in ever so long.  But perhaps between now and when I leave for Italy, I can fill you in more about my trip, my preparations, and my expectations.  Love you all.

Whew!

Well, last Saturday night I got home from our Episcopal General Convention, held every 3 years.  The trip from Tennessee to Anaheim, California, is a big one, on a number of levels.  It was overwhelming, amazing, hard work, but with a bit of time to play.  I didn't expect to go, as I was a 2nd alternate deputy, with only the regular deputies and the first alternate having a paid spot.  But the first alternate had to drop out, and I got an expense-paid trip, with 5 days' notice.  Everything fell into place in the most remarkable way: dog care, supply clergy, kitty care, and all the rest).  This is my fourth General Convention, but the first one where I haven't been a visitor, and actually felt some responsibility to do some work!  There was a lot of work to do, though I had the easiest end of things, being an alternate, and only called into duty when deputies needed to be off the floor of the legislative session.  Still, there was a lot to do, a lot to learn.  I admit, I only got to the health club once, and didn't get to the pool or hot tub a single time.  I went to committee hearings and legislative sessions.  But I was only an alternate -- it was our deputies, who also had committee responsibilities, who worked so very hard.  I loved it, and did also work hard myself, and saw my friend Fran, and we talked and talked and talked.  I haven't seen her in 7-9  years, but I think we had even more to say to each other, more to share about common interests and activities, than we did back when.  Oh, I finally counted and figured it was close to four hours we were together, but it felt like 1/2 hour.  For anyone who thinks folks on the internet are axe-murderers:  neither Fran nor I seem to show any proclivities for that.

But after 2 weeks away, it sure was good to get home.  I've loved being with my dogs again.  I've loved sleeping in my own bed.  I've loved being back in the weekly routine of office hours, services, bible study, and the people I love here in Tennessee.  It was great being with colleagues and our dear bishop in California, but home is always best, isn't it?  I know I won't be here in Crossville for the rest of my life; but right now, right here, it feels absolutely right.

I spent the week debriefing from the time away.  The Convention did enact some controversial resolutions dealing with openly GLBT people in the discernment process for ministry -- ordained or not.  We made the news in those places where people find religious news.  This had to be presented to the people here at home, the people in the pews.  But I didn't really get fully caught up on what happened here while I was gone, both at work and at home, and now I'm heading out again!  I'm going to Buffalo (where, I'm sure you  remember, I lived for 24 years), and will see my best friend's new house.  I will spend a few days by the lake, where I can just unwind and get back to my true self.  I'll see lots of old friends.  I've taken care of all the details I need to take care of, and now can do my laundry and re-pack my bags, and I'm out of here soon.

I'll miss my garden, I confess.  There are beans, cucumbers, and tomatoes (finally!) to pick, weeds to pull, and grapes to watch.  I've recently (finally!) transplanted annuals into pots and containers for my porches.  They need watching and watering.  There's always more to prune and burn and spray.  I don't use a lot of poison, but just today I attacked my bumper crop of poison ivy.  I've watched it uneasily for long enough -- now it needs eradication!

But I will enjoy the cool of Buffalo (I hope  -- it can get hot there, but on average is lovely in the summertime.  And when we go out to the lake, in a camping trailer on the Rez, near Silver Creek, it's bound to be even cooler and more refreshing (though sometimes rainy, right there 100 yards from the lake).  I can't wait.  I need this time to rest and revitalize, before a 6-week return to work, and then my 3-week trip to Italy.  I know I will be nourished by the love of my friends.  My best friend Cheryl and I are truly soul friends.  Despite each of our tendencies for self-preoccupation, we always listen eagerly and offer free, unsolicited advice to one another.  I know Cheryl holds me in her heart always (as I do her), and that kind of acceptance allows for deep rest and re-creation.

How is travel for all of you?

Sabbath, Redux

Well, after my "working vacation" week at Chautauqua, I hit the road for Buffalo.  I knew how badly I missed Cheryl when I sat down as soon as I entered her home, and we talked for about two hours straight.  We stayed in Buffalo that weekend, rather than heading for the Lake; apparently the campground where she parks her trailer has a huge celebration every July 4 weekend, including a big bonfire on the beach, a live band, and all night partying.  Not being the party-hearty gals that we used to be, we chose to stay home.  That gave me the chance to go to church at Calvary Episcopal in Williamsville, NY, where I served as Assistant Rector for 3 1/2 years right out of seminary.  It was great to see familiar faces, but I did forget that midsummer without air conditioning, even in Buffalo, can be a tad warm.

Sunday afternoon, 3 old friends came over to Cheryl's, and she prepared an elaborate and wonderful tuna nicoise salad which we munched on all afternoon.  The best part, of course, was the conversation.

Monday, Cheryl and I hit the grocery store and then headed south for a week and a half on Lake Erie.  All I can say is, it was wonderful.  Here are a few pictures:

Our sweet little home.  And below is where I spent a lot of time reading, journaling, and drying out magazines that got left in the rain:

Cheryl is a late sleeper, so I had most of the morning to myself to make coffee, write morning pages, eat breakfast, read, walk the 50 yards or so to get a look at the lake, and putter around.  Fortunately, Cheryl and I both are heavy sleepers, so I could rattle and bang around in the tiny galley kitchen next to her bedroom, and she didn't even roll over.  It was lovely to have that leisurely, solitary (introverted) stretch of morning to ponder the mysteries of the universe.  When Cheryl woke, we would talk while she ate her breakfast.

The  bulk of the day was spent in various leisure pursuits, including trying to find wireless internet access, walking around, or:
I have to ask you: who kidnapped me and put me inside that fat woman's body???  Still, the hammock was heavenly, and even more so after I raised it up higher, so my butt cleared the ground by more than just a couple of inches.

From 3-5 pm I went to the beach every day (well, okay, it did rain a couple of days -- but that's not bad for a week and a half on the lake!).  I love my little rituals, and having a set beach time was perfect.  After the beach it was cocktail hour, and I came home, had a gin & tonic (or 2, or several), and started dinner.  Since I enjoy grilling, Cheryl left that part of the dinner up to me, and she took over table setting and salad-making.  Yum, yum.  We had steak, fish, lamb, chicken, grilled veggies, pre-assembled skewers of meat and veggies, and all manner of wonderful treats.  Evenings were devoted to reading, conversation, the occasional campfire, and reasonable bedtimes for me (though Cheryl tended to stay up late reading).  Oh, and I forgot the nearly nightly walk back to the shore to check out the sunset.
Yes, they looked like this nearly every night.

I was so sad to set out that last morning for home.  I wanted to linger, but I knew I needed to make the whole drive in one day, so an early departure was mandatory.  I wanted to get home Friday night, so I would have all day Saturday to unpack, do laundry, sort and open mail, and generally settle in.

One of the things that Cheryl and I do for one another is share what we're currently interested in, and inspire one another with good ideas and good intentions.  Cheryl has been on a "healthy eating" kick, and she inspired me to add lots of fresh fruits and veggies to my diet.  I'm better than she is about exercise, doing yoga 3+ times a week and running 5 days most weeks.  So the last few days she and I took long, brisk walks together and talked about hopes and dreams and goals.  I think we both got a healthy dose of motivation from each other!

When I got home, I felt energized and inspired.  I went to both the farmer's market and a roadside stand, and bought lots of healthy fruits and veggies.  I decided to cut out cocktail time altogether for a while, all to the aim of losing as much of this excess weight as I can manage.  I got back into my running practice, and also started a home yoga practice, even if just for a few minutes a day.  So far, I've lost 4 1/2 lbs. in the 2 weeks since I got home!  Yay me!  I've also got new energy and enthusiasm for work, which is part of what vacations are for.

So I recommend it.  Exotic travel is great.  Working vacations can also sometimes be great.  But I think God made the Sabbath for us because God knew we needed some time to be still and do nothing worthwhile.  That's where re-creation, even Resurrection, happens.  I'm so grateful for my time away, and so glad to be back home with my work and my dogs!