friday five: trash and treasure

For this week's Friday Five at RevGals, Deb invites us to share some yard/garage/rummage/jumble sale adventures. I'm afraid I'm a bit boring as yard sale enthusiasts goes, but I'll give this a whirl!

1. TREASURE: What is the best thing you’ve ever found at a rummage sale? Was it a bargain or just something you’ve longed for but couldn’t afford?

I confess that although we have certainly held our share of yard sales to unload unwanted treasures and bring in a little cash, I don't often visit other yard sales unless I'm in need of something on the cheap that I think I can find there. Probably the most useful thing I have ever found is a small rack for the bathroom on which to keep makeup and other items used daily.

2. TRASH: What is an item you couldn’t WAIT to donate to a sale like this, and then were surprised that someone not only bought it, they were so excited to have?

It would have to be some incredibly tasteless item that was received as a gift (thus fulfilling the "trash and treasure" relationship), though I don't keep track of such farewells. Sorry!

3. BUDGET: How disciplined are you at these kinds of events? Can you stick to a budget, or do you empty your wallet?

As noted above, I rarely visit yard sales, and since I have come to the point in life where I rarely buy something unless I need it, temptation doesn't visit often. Budget isn't an issue because I simply don't buy much.

4. TAKE IT AWAY: What’s something you’d gladly donate right this minute if I would just come pick it up?

An old, crappy coffee table that my husband insists on keeping with the intention of cutting a new, acrylic top. Yeah, right.

5. TEA: Do you have a favorite tea? Or a special teapot? Tell us more!

Although I like tea, I don't drink a lot of it. I do have a favorite blend that employs two different flavors of teabags: almond dessert and honey chamomile. 

Found these on Pinterest a little while ago and think they're adorable!

love. actually and otherwise.

The strangest things pop into my mind when I'm cutting the grass. It's a tragedy, really. If I turn something over in my thoughts for more than a lap around the lawn I inevitably consider that a reflection on the topic du circumnaviation might be fodder for this blog. As you can tell, I am rather short on blog posts these days that aren't otherwise prompted by someone else's ideas. Fodder is welcome! Equally inevitable, however, is that by the time I've finished mowing my mind has moved to other considerations, like how humid it has become, or how grateful I will be for a long drink of water once I get indoors. Yes, that's me, the non-outdoorsy type.

So today--and don't ask me to recount how I got to the subject because I've forgotten--the topic of unconditional love filtered through the minutiae that takes up space in my little grey cells. For a while now this phrase has bothered me. It is my considered opinion that if love has conditions then it isn't love, it's a negotiation based on what can be gained by either side of the equation. That's not love in my book. So love is like being pregnant: you are or you aren't. It's love or it's not. 

But today I went a little deeper with my thinking on this. What about what we call "tough love?" Does that qualify as love with conditions? This is a trick question. The answer is no. Behavior might have expectations, or at the least, consequences. As a wise workshop leader once offered about expectations, we can have wishes or requirements when it comes to how we will respond to someone else's behavior. But the long and short of it is that if it's love, there are no conditions.

Now this doesn't mean that there aren't some nuances to how we experience love, or perhaps more significantly, how we make decisions related to love. I think that's where the rubber meets the road. For instance, it's possible to love someone to the core of your being and beyond, and at the same time recognize that spending time with them for the long haul is going to ruin your life. That's one nuance.

Here's another (and, spoiler alert! another cliche will be involved). A long time ago I loved someone who was more than a few years older than me. I wanted to have a family, and he'd already had his family. The odds of either one of us conceding our position on this matter were excruciatingly small, and as time went by and my clock ticked, I had to make a very difficult decision. Extricating myself from that relationship was beyond difficult, and took several years of missteps in an effort to be available for a new relationship that included the possibility of a family. Among other lessons learned and wisdom gained, the reality that love does not always conquer all became abundantly, and painfully, clear. In this case it wasn't love that bore the condition, it was my own deep yearning for a family that carved a difficult line through the substance of what was otherwise fulfilling. 

There is, as well, a kind of sacrificial love that means that the other person's needs will always come first, no matter what. I don't know if it takes a certain kind of person to practice such love, or if I have yet to know that kind of love in my own life to appreciate it fully, but I want to acknowledge that it exists. 

I'm sure there are other variations on this same theme that illustrate what I refer to here as nuance.  In the end, however, after turning corners of tall grass into blades of uniform height, and considering how we make choices when love stands at the core of any kind of decision, I am back where I ended up: if conditions are attached, we're not talking about love. 

Aren't you glad I shared? Since grass-cutting season is just out of the gate, chances are good that the coming months will see more than friday five blog posts here on this page.  I'm always open to suggestions, too.

friday five: pre-Holy Week distractions

 From Noble Pig, a fabulous food blog.

At RevGals Karla offers us a pre-Holy Week Friday Five!

1.  What is your favorite Easter candy?

Anything Reese's, be it mini-cups, eggs, or the tried and true standard. Chocolate and peanut butter rule!

2.  If you have an Easter memory from childhood to share, then please do.  Or any Easter memory.

My freshman year in college my mom sent me the makings of an Easter basket. She included the green cellophane grass, the candy, a card, and maybe something else. That was just the best treat ever.

3.  Speaking of, what has your most favorite day of the past two weeks been?  Why?

See my last post! But in short, at the last minute some friends gave us tickets to the NCAA women's championship basketball game this past Tuesday night. As a long-time UConn Huskies fan I was over the moon having the chance to see them play, and enjoy their historic win!

4.  I am kind of digging’ Chipotle’s sofritos these days (marinated and “shredded” tofu) and have been eating them like twice a week.  Is there something new in your life that keeps bringing you back for more?  (be ye creative here…)

Archive.org! I'm a genealogy addict, and am eternally grateful that the world of historic records and documents is growing online at a rapid rate. I don't have the luxury of being able to travel to local sites for hands on research, so online tools are invaluable. More and more works are being digitized and can be accessed through archive.org, allowing me to search local histories for signs of ancestors and any stories that might shed some light on events in their lives. It's a research bonanza, for all kinds of topics.

5.  Of course, a sentence. Using the following words (or some form thereof):  Tree frog, squares, kleenex, eyeglass, lost, daffodil, palms, lamb, Peeps, licorice jelly beans, and donkey.

Lured by the song of the tree frogs near the meadow, I headed out to visit the neighbor's donkey and the newly born lamb. Cupping its face between my palms it sniffed the remnants of hastily eaten licorice jelly beans and Peeps, and as I looked down I spied a pair of lost eyeglasses in a patch of daffodils, from whence I retrieved them with a square of Kleenex.

bucket list: check!

We just enjoyed a rare opportunity that was on my bucket list, even though I didn't realize it.

It began innocently enough. As Ken learned more and more about Templar history in Scotland, he became eager to discover that he had Scottish roots. His quest coincided with some genealogy research I was doing on his family, and one day: Voila! A MacFarlane link was made. A few months later he connected with members of Clan MacFarlane at the Stone Mountain Highland Games in Atlanta, and joined the clan community on facebook.

Through that facebook connection he has become acquainted with a number of others "of his ilk," several of whom will join us at the end of May at the Glasgow, Kentucky Highland games where we are serving as hosts of the Clan MacFarlane tent (via Clan MacFarlane Worldwide, Inc., another story).

Now the story gets interesting. Saturday morning Ken gets a phone call from one of his clan brethren who will be part of the "tent crew." Bill and his companion, Susan, are en route to Nashville for the women's Final Four basketball tournament, staying at a hotel in a city not far from us. Would we like to meet for lunch? 

A break from yard work becomes a time to freshen up, and before long we're heading to a local restaurant to meet. It turns out that Susan's granddaughter plays on the University of Maryland team, slated to meet Notre Dame that night on the basketball court. These are exciting times for the family, and the energy at lunch is contagious.  We bid farewell in time for Bill and Susan to check in at the hotel and don their Maryland attire before heading downtown for the game.

Now two degrees of separation removed from one of the night's games, we decided we'd tune in and cheer for Maryland, lending support to our new "in real life" friends.  Alas for Maryland, it wasn't their night, and just as we were offering our armchair assessment of the game and getting ready to switch gears for the next one, my phone rang. It was Susan.

"Since we won't be using our tickets for the finals on Tuesday, would you like them?" I didn't hesitate. "That would be great!" At this point we didn't know who would meet Notre Dame in the finals, but the Stanford/UConn game was a matter of hours from being decided. As a Connecticut native and long-time fan of the Lady Huskies basketball team, the opportunity to be at that game was a God-given miracle. (Only days before, I had expressed a desire to go to the game, recognizing the rare opportunity to see UConn play here in Nashville.  Knowing that we could never afford the tickets, it was a short-lived wish.)

We don't watch much basketball. Ken never played or had much exposure to it, so it doesn't interest him.  I generally watch when a UConn game is being aired locally, which isn't all that often.  Neither of us knew what to expect being at a live game at this level.

Let me just say that it was incredible. We didn't watch the images on the jumbotron hanging over center court. We watched the live action from our seats in the rafters (not a complaint about the location--I share it as a way to share that even from that distance watching the players, themselves, was the best way to enjoy the game). Seeing each play unfold within the visual context of the whole court, rather than the limited view chosen by TV officianados, made all the difference in the world. And I was cheering surrounded by other Huskie fans as opposed to the isolated confines of the couch.  I kept pinching myself, in a virtual way, knowing what a gift had been given to me to witness not just UConn in the NCAA finals, but setting records as they did so. It was historic all the way around, and I am deeply, deeply grateful to include the experience in my memory banks. Thank you, Bill and Susan!

I thought of my dad as we were leaving the arena, knowing how happy this night would have made him, and imagined him yodeling with enthusiasm (he was a good yodeler, even to the last).  So I guess I'll dedicate this extraordinary night of the fulfillment of an unbirthed dream to him.  I guess I also need to think about what other sorts of experiences might need to find their way to my bucket list.

ah-ha!

I had an epiphany yesterday. We continue to suffer through tough times here, and despair seems to have unpacked its bags and settled in . NOT a happy feeling. But back to the epiphany. Tears were starting to prick at my eyes, and to stave them off I dug into a prayer. Help! (Yes, Anne Lammott and I are in full agreement on this.) In addition to that exclamatory invitation into my chaos, I got specific. "Give me strength, give me courage, give me wisdom, give me insight..." and that's when the epiphany struck. "Wait a minute," I thought. "I already have those things." 

Hmm. It seems, then, that I am not needful of those attributes. Instead I appear to be having difficulty accessing them. Which means that something is in the way. Of course now my thinking shifts from the theological to the psychological, but that's okay. God oversees that, too, in my opinion. The important thing is that I am reminded that I already have the tools to move from my current position on the "stuck" board. That doesn't mean anything gets easier. Like on The Amazing Race, the sorting out of one puzzle simply moves you onto the next one. But. It's one puzzle closer to the light. 

I'm trying to feel optimistic about this. It is, of course, helpful to clarify and redirect my prayer. It's amusing to think of the image of the dog digging, with its butt in the air (metaphor has always been my preference at times like this). There is, after all, nothing graceful about doing messy work. The grace is that the epiphany occurred, and that I can laugh about my butt being in the air, and that all of this has mysteriously drawn me closer to God rather than distancing me from him or her (something that, truthfully, has been at risk).

The upshot? I need to find a job. I need a job with flexible hours, part to full time. The flexibility thing probably means a job I can do from home. Until I can build my business up to generate enough revenue to fill the gap of our necessity, we need a reliable and consistent revenue stream.  Even minimum wage, which is likely.

It's not pretty. But the alternative is worse still. Here's to digging.

friday five: all around the mulberry bush

It’s been a week of ups and downs at our house. On Tuesday I received word of the birth of my goddaughter’s second daughter, a blessing to that family, and the hope of the first daughter happily fulfilled. That evening I learned that my sister-in-law, a breast cancer survivor, is facing a recurrence of cancer in her lymph nodes, and probably her lungs. Joy and concern pressing in on my heart has made for a week of lots of deep breaths and deep-in-the-marrow prayer, smiles and tears.

At times like this my soul finds comfort and seeks expression through my senses. Pinterest feeds my visual need for beauty and color (not to mention adorable puppies, and herds of sheep). Cooking fills the house with pleasant aromas, and the results satisfy my palette. My hands find tactile pleasure in massaging my dogs, and music penetrates and reverberates in the fiber of my being.

Today's ff invitation is to respond to this: When you need to hold disparate parts of your life in tension, what do you do? Share five things that steady your pace, recharge your batteries and invite peace to your soul.

1) As noted above (since I authored this week's ff), Pinterest is a delightful source of distraction. I find that going there after a morning review of facebook, then news, redirects me from the noise of the world to the rhythms that help me be in tune. Images of Scotland, quilts, sheep and lambs, food, quotations that inspire or resonate--these are all things that settle my soul. (Photo source)

2) In temperate weather I like to get out in the garden--not so much to dig (I'm not a good "digger), but to plant, and then maintain by weeding. The act of preparing, and then culling the garden to help it thrive is cathartic.

3) Creating something is always a benefit, though when my mind is cluttered it is harder to settle into that process. I am grateful for those occasions when I have a project at hand that I can pick up and on which I might make some progress. I haven't done any cross stitch since Christmas, and for all kinds of reasons I think it's time to revisit the potential candidates for completion.

4) When I can manage, I love to read. I am between books at the moment. Home front challenges of late have made it difficult to feel that I can afford the time just to sit and read. I think it's time to revisit that perception, however.

5) I ponder love. That may sound strange. The church we attend lives into a distinctive ministry of love and justice, keeping the notion alive and visible to me daily. With so much pain in the world love is the sort of balm that makes sense to dispense. My own existence these days is far too isolated and solitary to be the direct source of much loving, which is why I ponder. I want to find ways--beyond affirmations on facebook and blog posts--that reach more deeply into the hurts that are spilling out into the world. Pondering serves a purpose.

friday five: are we blooming yet?

For this week's RevGals Friday five Deb invites us to share:


1. Your favorite spring flower. (Is it blooming yet? If so, share the joy by posting a picture of that loveliness with those of us still waiting!)

 Daffodils in the 'hood

I adore both daffodils and tulips, but in my section of the south the heat tends to be too much for tulips. Although I keep intending to plant dafs, our late fall cycle of weather tends to go from 80 to 40 overnight, making it difficult to find the right time to get those suckers planted. Maybe this year I'll go by the calendar and not the thermometer.

2. Your spring cleaning routine. Do you have one? Is there a family memory or tradition around it?

I don't have a spring cleaning routine. With three dogs cleaning is a constant necessity, the timeliness of which I fail on a regular basis.

3. A personal area of growth where you have seen some success lately. It can be personal, physical, spiritual or familial.

Since I have started a new business (canine massage) I am confronting my tendency to procrastinate or not take necessary action. I've been reflecting lately on the fear of success, or at least asking myself the hard questions about why I'm not taking the action I know would help propel me forward in positive ways. It's not easy inner work, and although I don't know if I've seen any particular growth, I'm going to go out on a limb and be grateful that at least I'm probing more deeply in this area than in the past. A breakthrough might prove interesting.

4. When does “spring” usually arrive in your area? Are you holding out for late May? Or are you one of the lucky ones who has already put away her sweaters and mittens?

 In St. Louis a few years ago

As a native Yankee I'm conditioned for a late spring--the aforementioned dafs and tulips appearing in April. Here in Tennessee (where I've been for 15 years) I still can't used to seeing daffodils emerge at the end of February. This year they are quite late, having just bloomed (and by our front walk, a lonely volunteer is in full bloom). Our temperatures, like elsewhere, have swung wildly, so t-shirts as well as winter coats are at the ready.

5. A verse or set of verses from Scripture that speaks “new growth” to you. 

This may seem like an odd choice, but it is a favorite. It is the gospel passage read at our wedding, reflecting that a marriage, a new expression of a relationship, was like new wine. "Neither do people pour new wine into old wineskins. If they do, the skins will burst; the wine will run out and the wineskins will be ruined. No, they pour new wine into new wineskins, and both are preserved." (Mt 9:17)

friday five: land, sea, and air

At RevGals Jan invites us to share some of our travel experiences. I'm choosing a diverse route to sharing some of those rich times.

1) While growing up my family did all our travel by car: each spring we ventured from Connecticut to South Carolina to the family tree farm, often detouring to historic sites along the way; in the summer we vacationed with a cousin who had a house on Cape Cod; in the winter we skied with another family with whom we spent lots of time and shared activity. 

On one of our trips to the Cape I asked my dad how the Vietnam War started. For what seemed like an hour he laid it all out for me, a captive audience. Thinking about that now I am enormously impressed that he had a grasp of the facts and was able to explain it with a certain amount of detachment, and his explanation didn't leave me in the dust. That was typical of my dad, who enjoyed telling a story, but could do so without making it overly complicated. Do I remember any of it? Ha!
(That's dad maintaining a seaweed-free path into the water at the Cape. I've never known anyone else to do that, anywhere! but he loved taking on that responsibility each summer)

2) A childhood-->adulthood friend and I spent our teen years writing stories about the heroes of a short-lived television series from our tween years, The Young Rebels. We were both enthralled with the era of the revolutionary war and indulged our passion and fantasies with all sorts of adventures and romances for our intrepid revolutionaries. One fall when it was time for me to return to college in Indiana, she joined me on that trip and we drove to and through parts of Pennsylvania to research the history of the area about which we were writing, seeking authenticity. I still have copies of documents that we uncovered, pictures torn from magazines that inspired the look of some of our own characters, historic buildings that starred in our scenarios, and the fictionalized genealogies we created. It was the kind of journey I look forward to taking again to explore my own family's history and the places that shaped them, and occasionally those that they helped shape.

3) I was fortunate to spend a week sailing off the coast of Maine one summer with five others. Extraordinary memories, gastronomic delights from the galley as well as some of the small, seaside towns, and nights on deck admiring the star-studded sky stand out in my mind. The sailing was pretty good, too, but recedes compared to everything else. It was a unique adventure, cherished in my heart.

4) Another extraordinary piece of travel took place too many years ago. A trip to dance in Scottish castles is probably the highlight of my travel life. For two weeks twelve of us traveled with our own musicians (fiddler and pianist), donned ball gowns and full kilt regalia, and danced in the likes of the ballroom of Blair Castle and the kitchen of the ruined Castle Campbell. We dined on sumptuous foods, sipped single-malt scotch, and laughed regularly until our sides hurt. Twenty-five years later friendships are still maintained and enjoyed, and the memories run as deep as the music in my soul. 

5) On the first anniversary of the call to my first solo pastorate, the beau of a parishioner offered to take me flying in his two-seater plane. I accepted! I have always enjoyed flying, and it was a treat to view the area from above, including seeing (and attempting to photograph) my house, the church, and other local areas of interest. I always feel honored when people share such passions, offering a glimpse into worlds I would not likely see otherwise, and this was such a time.

friday five: a few of my favorite things

At RevGals this morning Jan invites us to share some of our favorites: food, drink, animal, color, and time of day.

1) Food: nothing jumps immediately to mind! I used to go directly to pepperoni pizza, but these days I limit my pizza intake, so it's not a current fave.  On our top list of "let's make this again soon" recipes is homemade baked beans (my husband can't have sugar, so making our own is our best solution when we want beans); crock pot chicken masala; casserole dill bread. Homemade soup is a stalwart favorite--I make a mean Curry Chicken Corn Chowder.

2) Drink: I'm surprising myself here by claiming water. With ice. Even when temperatures are frigid it is refreshing no matter the time of day, and a welcome gulp of renewal in the midst of demanding activity (mental or physical).

3) Animal: dogs are my passion, but I also simply adore sheep. They captured my attention when I was in college on a foreign study program in Scotland, and they continue to own a piece of my heart. 

4) Color: my default favorite is blue, although depending on the use of color, I will lean in different directions: clothing, decorating, an accent... 

5) Time of day: first thing in the morning upon rising. I love the quiet of the house, the pale, early light outside my window, that coveted first cup of coffee, and the promise that a blank canvas offers as the day stretches before me waiting for me to make my mark. 

friday five: spring is getting ready to be sprung!

Snowdrops making an appearance at the Royal Botanical Garden in Edinburgh, Scotland

Here in Nashville the annual Antiques and Garden Show is getting underway.  The temperatures are more cold and windy than is typical, and the garden displays with colorful spring blooms are going to be tonic for many of the souls that visit the show this weekend. Punxsutawney Phil may have predicted another six weeks of winter when he saw his shadow, but spring is on the minds of many!

With that in mind,

1) What do you anticipate with the coming of spring?

Spring is a favorite season, in part because I have a spring birthday. I also welcome the return of color and beauty to the world following the grays and browns of winter.  I love the parade of blooming things that begin with snow drops and croci, and leads us into the greening of the world and the enduring blooms of summer.  On a more intimate and spiritual level spring also heralds the promise of hope, whether that means fanning the flames of dreams or experiencing the transforming redemption that is part of healing and new life.

2) Is there anything you will miss about winter?

Call me crazy, but I love sweaters and cold-weather food. Soups and casseroles, and the comfort of cool fingers wrapped around my morning coffee mug are sweet companions to my introverted nature. 

3) Is there an occasion on the horizon to which you’re looking forward?

In May I will serve again as chaplain to a week-long icon-writing workshop. That week of holy and creative community enriches my soul, and the icon that results from it feeds me continually afterward.

 4) Do you have a favorite spring memory?

Where I grew up spring vacations took place in April. Each year my family journeyed from Connecticut to my family's tree farm in South Carolina where my grandmother spent a couple of months each spring. The highlight of that time was always being there at Melrose, but we often combined the trip with sightseeing detours to historic places along the way. I'm thankful for those visits to Gettysburg, Monticello, Williamsburg, Valley Forge, and other sites that helped instill in me a love for our country's history.

 
5) Do you have a favorite spring flower/bloom, and if so, what makes it special to you?

Tulips and dogwood top the list. Tulips were a favorite of my grandfather, so that created a bond for us, and dogwoods bloomed around my birthday. I also adore daffodils, and when they grew in my yard I loved to cut a huge bunch of them to display in the house. 

friday five: pleasant surprises

Remembering an encounter that led to an unexpected friendship, Martha offers this prompt at RevGals today.

In this week some of us are preaching about a woman who encounters Jesus at the well, please name five encounters in your life leading to unexpected results. They might include learning a new skill, making a friend, falling in love, discerning a call or anything around or far off from those ideas.

1) While growing up my mother and my bonus mother were both knitters.  Eager to be just like them in this way (other ways, too), I tried to learn to knit. It didn't stick. Endless rows of knitting and purling just didn't interest me, so I gave up.  Fast forward to my junior year in college and a semester abroad in Scotland. Three of us lived with a family there whose mother was a kick-ass knitter. She could read, knit, and watch TV at the same time.  She agreed to teach us how to knit, insisting that we pick a pattern that would challenge us and hold our interest.  We chose a fisherman-knit pattern very close to the one pictured above (we were in Scotland, after all), and commenced our lessons. Not only did we finish our sweaters, but I continued to knit for many years until heading off to seminary. I've done a few projects since then, but dogs in laps and knitting don't go well together, so I have shifted to other handwork.

2, 3 & 4) Many moons ago I flew to Scotland to attend a friend's wedding as a surprise to her. Her priest had also flown over to perform the ceremony (she was an American, her husband, Scottish), and though the priest and I met briefly a few weeks before the big event, we bonded during the wedding celebration. Bonding led to dating, which led to attending his church to hear him preach, which led to a spiritual renewal (not from the preaching, although he was an excellent preacher, but as a result of a profound experience of prayer), which led to being baptized, which led to thanksgiving, which led to my call to ordination. So, I attended a wedding, fell in love, got baptized, and ended up being ordained. Pretty unexpected results!
(The picture is with the bride's daughter, with the ruins of St. Andrew's Cathedral behind us. The bridal bouquet was thrust into my arms by the bride as she left the church with her new husband.)

5) Fewer moons ago, after breaking an engagement I found myself without a beloved, a job, a home, or a community (I had sold my house in anticipation of moving to another state, and had likewise resigned my position at the church I served). As I began to rebuild my life I focused some of my creative energy on scrapbooking. I turned to an online scrapbook message board as a resource for supplies and expertise, and ended up finding a diverse community of women where friendships began to form. A daily "Early Bird" thread gave rise to a subset of scrapbookers who continue to stay connected to this day (more than ten years later). I have met many of the Early Birds "in real life," traveled with a few, and when I did finally get married a few years later, some of them came to Nashville from as far away as New Brunswick, Pennsylvania and Florida.

Scrappers!

friday five: recent random

From Karla at RevGals, today's random looks at recent goodness:

1.  What is the best thing you have had to eat in the last couple of days?

Oh, some true yumminess emerged from our kitchen this week: Stuffed Shells Arrabbiata, and Crockpot Coconut Chicken Curry. And there's leftovers!

2.  What is the topic/subject of the best thing you have read in the last couple of days?

While at the library last week I saw a clerk putting a book back onto the shelf in the "new" section: Hope After Faith, a Pastor's Journey to Atheism. I don't have a foot in that camp, but I empathize with the folks who have made that transition, so I was curious to read about his. I don't know that it's the best thing I read, but it was a short, easy read, and offered food for thought. I don't regret giving it my time.

3.  Who would you like to give a shout out to that has been in your life the last couple of days?

My friend Jeri, who celebrated 50 years of sobriety last Sunday. She is a remarkable woman, a dear friend, a light in the darkness, and an inspiration.

4.  How have you practiced self-care in the last couple of days?

This may sound strange as a self-care item, but I've been cleaning and purging in my office (at home). I can now get into the closet, I can walk to the window to clean the nose prints off of it, and the top of my desk is almost useful again. The decluttering effort is poised to catalyze great things in the days ahead.

5.   Use the following words in a sentence:    couple, shutter, smile, pillow, groan, skip, baby elephant, red shoes.

The shutter of the camera clicked as the young couple smiled, watching their daughter skip a circle of red in her new shoes in front of the baby elephant. The image formed a pillow for later memories while Mama Elephant groaned with delight.

star words

On the RevGals facebook page an idea was shared for a meaningful and engaging way for congregations to celebrate the Feast of the Epiphany. I hate it when a good idea goes to waste, so I decided to employ the project at the church where I was filling in yesterday. I've been there several times and have built a bit of a relationship with church members, so felt safe departing from a standard homily on this occasion.

The project is known as Star Words. The concept is that a variety of words are written singly on paper cut out in the shape of stars. Each person draws a star and carries the word with them through the year to consider, reflect upon, and in whatever other ways occurs to them, draws inspiration and meaning. I drew on the transformative beginning that the Star of Bethlehem was to the world into which Jesus was born, and invited the congregation to consider how the use of their word, led by the light of Christ and the Spirit of God, might be transformative for them. 

It was a fun and interesting exercise. Nearly everyone who came to church took a star, (two teenage boys were the lone abstainers). The responses ranged from quiet, knowing smiles, to tilted heads of puzzlement, to bright grins and enthusiastic sharing on the spot. Only one woman, the last to draw from the basket, said, "Music?" As the remaining participant I offered her the option of drawing a different star, but she adamantly stuck to her original, claiming that it would be interesting to discover how a renewed awareness of music might work its way into and through her life.

Most touching was the woman who looked at her star and clutched it to her chest with a sense of disbelief. She began to make utterances, not really sure what to say, until at last she whispered, "I can't believe it!" I asked her if she was willing to share the word she now held protectively in her hand, and she turned it to me and spoke the word. "Healing." Grasping for composure, she glanced toward the ceiling, tears beginning to form. "You don't know..." she began. Indeed, I didn't! Then she took a few quieting breaths and shared with the three of us who surrounded her that she might be facing the recurrence of cancer.  Just, wow. I am happy to report that earlier today I had an email from this church member, sharing the news that the biopsy performed returned negative.  She is eager to live with her word and discover how else it might play out in the year ahead. I am grateful to have shared that small moment with her, the kind of moment I miss no longer serving regularly in a parish.

As for me, I drew the word competence. It was funny. When I was typing the words into the stars to print out and came to this one I was intrigued by its inclusion in the list and wondered how it would be received by the person who drew it. It is actually synchronicitous (I think I just made that word up) for me as I live into a new line of work without vast experience on which to draw as I move forward into a life of canine massage. I felt very competent as a parish priest, in spite of circumstances that led me from that work. That said, however, the experience of that change was damaging to my confidence in general. Believing in myself, and feeling competent, has been a bit squishy during the last few years. I am grateful, beyond words, that in recent months I have received affirmation from several quarters, but reclaiming my confidence and competence is a work in progress that requires some propping up.

So, competence and I are keeping company this year. And like my new friend experiencing healing, it will be interesting to see where this journey winds.

How about you, would you like a word?

friday five: turn the page!

Whether or not we make resolutions with the new year, we all transition to a new, physical calendar. In recent years my favorite wall calendar is called Pooped Puppies, a monthly collection of sleepy, or sleeping, pups that can’t help but evoke an “awwwww.” for many years my godmother gave me a flat, weekly desk calendar that featured National Geographic photos. One of the great things about calendars is that for each of us they fulfill the “form and function” requirement–a place to indulge an interest while serving a purpose.

For today’s FF, tell us about five calendar themes that you like to see hanging on your walls or going with you to appointments, or that you WISH existed to adorn and accompany your life.

1) Pooped Puppies! I just love this calendar, which provides a "puppy fix" of sorts for me. I'm fortunate to spend time with all sorts of dogs in my work, although puppies are not generally among them.  This calendar helps me get in some oohing and ahhing!

2) There are a number of calendars that support dog-related advocacy groups, and some of them have outstanding photographs. Any one of those would be welcome on my walls.

3) Scotland. I've got a board going on Pinterest to help me get my fill of pictures from this beloved country, but a calendar would definitely find a favored spot by my desk at home.

4) Quilts. Another Pinterest board helps me capture sources of inspiration for quilting--something I wish I had the space to indulge--but a regularly seen splash of quilting deliciousness on my walls might just push me over the edge to create not just the space to work, but a quilt itself. Ideas abound!

5) I've always thought that a saints "book of days" kind of calendar would be great fun for us clergy types.  It would be set up as a weekly, featuring a saint whose feast day occurs during that week along with some critical biographical and spiritual/theological information. With a whole week to spend with this inspiration we might actually become well enough acquainted with a contingent of inspiration to inform our work and our preaching in some new, and interesting ways.

friday five: not so festive edition

At RevGals this morning the Friday Five asks about the family traditions of Christmas, particularly as they pertain to the necessary adjustments when families begin to take new shape through losses and additions. Except for one, I find that I can't really answer the questions posed because they simply don't pertain to my/our new reality. That doesn't mean that the "five" hasn't spurred a whole lot of reflection. If anything, it has spurred perhaps a bit more than I would like to consider.

The gist of it is this. Our general experience--that of my husband and me--is that Christmas tends to happen without us. It is problematic that we don't live near any of our family, but that seems to underscore an emotional reality. When we are able to enjoy holiday time with our daughter or son and their respective families we are accommodated. We have never been invited to join either for Christmas Day. Some  years we have managed celebrations before or after, but the heart of the day has never included us. 

This isn't uncommon for divorced fathers, even when geography isn't an issue. When I was growing up my parents divorced when I was 13, and with rare exceptions Christmas Day was celebrated in the home of my mother. Even when Mom remarried and moved to another state, my brothers and I trekked to her abode,  relegating my father to second-class status. This happened for all kinds of practical and noble reasons, but it was perpetuated because my brothers and I made the convenient, self-justified choice of keeping my father second. Through those years my father enjoyed being part of the lives of the families of the women with whom he shared his heart, and I like to believe that those bonds offered balm for his battered family soul. The truth includes the reality that we never put him first.

I  have no children to bring to the present equation. My husband's family is now mine, so I am experiencing his place in the equation as my own. As he laments being "the hind tit" in the life of his children (his words) I feel a double dose of pain--his, as well as mine. Add to that my own, later-in-life perspective and new empathy for my father's experience, and regret taints the mix. What was once my favorite holiday has become a source of deep pain and longing for inclusion. We have few friends who might embrace us, taking the edge off the isolation we feel, and so we muddle through. 

I wage a debate within myself about speaking up, of being honest about feelings. The one time my father shared his feelings with us was on the occasion of my mother's remarriage.  Still carrying a torch for my mother he lambasted us for not considering how the day affected him and showing some sympathy for him. I seem to recall that my brothers were dismissive of his tirade, and frankly I don't remember how I responded to him. During a recent conversation with my daughter-in-law about managing the "family juggle" I mentioned that they hadn't been to see us since they were married three and half years ago. She acknowledged that truth with silence, a far better response than excuses or empty promises about different patterns in the future.

Somewhere in the mix we hold a share of responsibility in how this plays out--family dynamics are a reflection of all the players in the pool. I suspect we all lack the courage to face and address whatever hurts lie beneath, or attempt to clear the clouded air that perceptions, accurate or otherwise,  have created. Somehow or other we haven't learned how to love adequately, either, so that respecting the dignity of each others feelings can be something that is honored and cherished, rather than held hostage (which is sometimes how it feels). 

I don't have answers, but I do know that honesty and effort need to be part of whatever will help move us through our present experience of feeling marginalized.  Most importantly, love will need to lead the way. For that, I pray.

remembering the family

There are surprisingly few posts on facebook this morning recalling the loss of life in Newtown a year ago. The usual news outlets that show up on my page are quiet, and individual posts are scarce. It's been a long year since that fateful day, and maybe there's really nothing to say that hasn't already been said. Except this.

Nancy and Adam Lanza's family. 99.9% of the stories refer to the 26 victims at Sandy Hook without reaching out to include Adam's first victim, his mother. 26 is an accurate number reflecting the loss at Sandy Hook Elementary School and tells part of the story, but the whole story includes 28 victims. Yes, I'm including Adam in that number because he, too, lost his life by his hand. But it is Nancy that is so frequently excluded, as though to punish her for the actions of her child. It seems that a scapegoat is necessary on occasions such as this, and since she cannot speak for herself she is a convenient target for blame. It's not up to me to determine her culpability, though I don't hold her responsible for Adam's choice.

This morning I am writing because I am mindful of the Lanza family. They lost two of their own, and because of the circumstances surrounding their deaths the family's grief is unbearably private. Is there anyone reaching out to them? Is there anyone offering support when the "if only" questions plague their days and haunt their nights? Have they been shunned by friends, and when this, and other anniversaries break into their cycle of healing do they experience the setbacks of interrupted trust and the kind of isolation over which they are powerless to alter? I wonder if, unbeknown to the rest of us, there is a solidarity among surviving family members from situations similar to this who have no one else to whom they can turn to express their needs and inch toward some kind of normalcy now denied to them. 

As compassionate a culture as we can be we are perhaps more cruel to those who don't deserve our disdain.  Our penchant for exclusion comes with a price that we all pay, though some more tragically and dearly than others.  Today is a day to remember that victims surround us, ready and eager to be survivors through the generosity of compassion each of us can extend.  Tomorrow is the day that we begin to extend that memory toward a commitment in practice.

It is my prayer for the Lanzas, and others who trod the path they travel involuntarily, that hands and hearts are reaching out, that prayers are offered on their behalf, and that peace may fill their hearts and days sooner than later.

friday five: december's random

our living room several years ago 

 

From Karla at RevGals:

1.  How are you?  How can we pray for you?

Since we were without Internet access for a good part of the day for last week's Friday Five I didn't even get a chance to play my own post, which posed this question! I'm overwhelmed, inspired, energized, enthusiastic, physically dealing with a very stiff and painful neck, and generally unprepared for a Christmas that will be different from any other I've known.  This is a rough Christmas. We have no money to spend on anyone, and it is likely that the only gifts under the tree will be what comes from my mother, and maybe something from our kids. It depresses my husband in a big way (in spite of trying to talk to him about creating our own good memories and making lemonade out of lemons), and it saddens me. I am cross-stitching ornaments for our grandsons, and that will likely be the only thing we are able to give. And maybe some truffles that I make.  How might you pray? For peace with what we have, and better times soon.

2.  On another level, I am sure that many of you have treasured Christmas ornaments.  Tell us about one of your more treasured, and why it is special.

Eight years ago my best friend was diagnosed with a cancer that she did not survive. Kathy lived in St. Louis, and I was fortunate at that time to have the freedom to travel there once a month on a weekend to visit with her and do what I could to help her as she fought her battle. A lot of people in Kathy's life pitched in to make her life run as smoothly as possible and feel as normal as possible. At Christmas that year she gifted many of us with angel ornaments, to thank us for being angels to her. This angel ornament was her gift to me, whom she dubbed as the Angel of Angels. 

3.  Since I have started in a new call in a new city, I have a new guilty pleasure called Shubies which is a store of wine, cheese, craft beer, gourmet foods, fun kitchen gadgets and more, besides a bakery/lunch counter.  I am currently enjoying an (overpriced)  kale-avocado-goat cheese pressed sandwich on cranberry sunflower seed wheat bread. O.M.GOODNESS.   What is one of your current guilty pleasures?

In another turning-lemons-into-lemonade moment about a month ago I learned how to make truffles/cake balls.  Although I enjoy popping one into my mouth here and there, they look so decadent that I can't resist giving away and enjoy seeing eyes go wide at their appearing.

4. I picked up a beautiful hank of handspun wool in heather grays and purples in October that I am sending my sister for her birthday this month.  I have been looking forward to giving it to her.  What is something (tangible or less tangible) you are looking forward to give in the next few weeks?

As noted above, we have no money to buy anything to give this year. I am making ornaments for our grandsons, and if I can squeeze out the time I will make them Christmas pillowcases (none of our family live near us, so everything must be shipped). My mom made pillowcases for us when we were kids (I still use mine at Christmas!), and at her request I made some for my goddaughter's kids a few years ago (I had made some for her and her sister when they were kids). I've got the materials to make things, so I'm going that route this year. We'll probably share some goodies from the kitchen, too. 

5.  We must have random words for a random sentence or story, right?  So, here are your words (or forms of) to use in a sentence or two:   earth, cranberry, codfish, kettle corn, pitcher, love, joy, hope, peace, Santa, artist.

With a pitcher of wassail for refreshment decorated with an artist's rendering of Santa, we strung the tree with garlands of cranberry and kettle corn, woven with seasonal yearnings for love, joy, hope and peace.  The codfish remained in the refrigerator for another time.

a funny thing happened on my way to a homework assignment

A few weeks ago I wrote about a "small business boot camp" seminar/workshop that I attended. There were a multitude of gifts from that day, one of which was a follow-up one-on-one coaching session with Amber Hurdle, executive coach extraordinaire and creator and facilitator of the boot camp. When I met with Amber for that session she invited me to participate in a more in-depth, group coaching opportunity that began this week. There are eight sessions all together, held via conference call and include people from as far away as Utah, Nevada, Arizona and Ottawa, and as nearby as a friend and mentor just down the street. Each and every person in this group qualifies for rock star status in one way or another, and I am humbled and honored to be in their company.

To make the most of this opportunity Amber gives us meaty homework assignments. I'm not writing today about the grist being ground in that mill, but something that happened as a result. The processes that we're engaging to do the work to help ourselves achieve success as small business entrepreneurs isn't new to me. I've encountered it in various places along the road of my life, from YWCA development programs to Pampered Chef coaching calls with my director (and reinforced more broadly by the corporate office). What is different is that I am in a different place, and as a result everything looks different. Contexts are altered, lessons have been learned and perspectives have shifted. 

After our session the other day I revisited some of my homework and had an a-ha! moment. A couple of them, actually. I shot Amber an email to share with her some of my reflections about what had happened, and she replied with encouragement, enthusiasm, and affirmation. In recent years I have felt deprived of much affirmation, so when it comes I take a long drink from the offering of it and savor it. As I took heart from Amber's affirmation this morning I decided to pay that forward, and committed to taking the time to offer affirmation to others as I encountered their posts on facebook. 

It felt good. A few people responded with words of gratitude, others "liked" the post, and a few others did not respond at all. That's all fine. I didn't start the effort for reciprocation, but to give. And shock of shocks, the effort of itself gave back to me. 

You may recall a post a few weeks back about my struggle with maintaining energy levels as a result of constant pressures and stresses. After leaving a slew of affirmations on people's facebook pages this morning a reserve of energy opened up. I did some thorough kitchen cleaning, some laundry, and vacuuming. I'm getting ready to take Juliet for a walk, to help her shake loose some stress of her own. I'll be baking shortly for tonight's church supper, and then head out to tackle a bunch of errands. Much of this is in the course of anyone elses day (or half day!), but for yours truly it's a landmark shift. All because I gave. 

This isn't rocket science. For me, however, it's scraping off layers of accumulated crud from an extended period of hardship. It helps me cope, at least for today, in a way that lets the light shine in with more brightness and clarity. It helps me turn my face to the sun and the love that is out there in the world. It is a shift of energy that in turn helps restore the alignment of my being, much like massage impacts the natural balance of dogs. It is healing, and blessed, and I am grateful. So very grateful.

friday five: advent confidential

At RevGals MaryBeth invites us to Advent Confidential. What are your favorite traditions, observances, hymns, or memories of Advent? Is there something you remember from childhood that you’d like to do again? A funny story you can share about the time the Advent wreath got a little over-lit? We are here and listening!

Growing up we were awash in traditions, some of which were distinctly Advent. I have so many great memories of that time, which makes this a particularly meaningful season for me in very personal, nostalgic ways.  As Quakers we had no liturgical traditions, but the season was full of wonderful, anticipatory activity.

1) The Advent Calendar. Hung on the back of our front door was a felt version made by my mother. My brothers and I took turns emptying the appropriate pocket each night to decorate a felt tree with tiny ornaments, culminating with a star at the top of the tree on Christmas Eve. 

2) Family shopping night. I don't know how many years we actually did this, but I think of it as a tradition. We headed downtown to the department store where my parents would help each of us kids shop for certain presents. Dinner at a nearby restaurant and a walk around Hartford's Constitution Plaza to view the holiday festival of lights was a part of the deal. I remember snippets of this activity, but the fact that it stands out in my memory must mean that there was some deep joy with much greater impact than the cold of a winter night.

3) Christmas themes. Every year my mom chose a theme that was the focus of decorating the house (and sometimes for our family Christmas card).  Among the themes were the Three Kings, the twelve days of Christmas, Noel, and Peace. She saved cards we received from year to year that depicted these themes, and there was usually a banner filled with several of them that was displayed hung on a doorway.  It is a tradition that I have only recently thought about putting into action myself.

4) The Advent candle. At times, rather than a wreath we had a single pillar candle with 24 marks down one side. Each night at dinner the candle was lit and allowed to burn down to the appropriate date before it was extinguished.

5) Baking and delivery of the goods. My mom had two consistent holiday kitchen specialties: homemade toffee and spiced tea mix.  There were several family friends who were regular recipients of this kitchen largesse, and as a family we would bundle into the car and go to the homes of these friends, standing outside the door and announcing ourselves by breaking into song--a carol, of course. The front door light would come on and the door would open with wonder and joy, and we would spend some time with our friends as we delivered our gifts. It is another treasured family memory.