Old Year Angst

from the Hubble Telescope

Woke up in the middle of the night with a gargantuan headache at the back of my neck, a runny nose, and found myself in the midst of what Anne of Green Gables called a "white night."  I wonder why she called it a white night rather than some other descriptive?  Well, whatever the reason, I lay there feeling all sorts of fear, and grief and angst!  Good heavens.  I haven't had a night like that in a while.  Self doubt ran rampant.  Insurmountable mountains loomed around me, grown from tiny molehills (well, ok, if I'm honest, they were more than molehills, but they had quadrupled in size nonetheless!)  Had I shrunk, like Alice in the looking glass?  Or had the problems become huge of their own volition? 

Morning brought a feverish weariness and so I didn't make my Sunday pilgrimage to church.  I always miss it when I don't find myself there to see friends and make new ones, to sing, to listen to a good "homily", as the Episcopalians call it.  It's interesting, the "calling" to ministry which I felt for so many years has grown silent.  It's like a beautiful calm after a summer storm.  All the years of struggle and confusion seem laid to rest here.  I don't feel any desire to serve at the altar, or preach, or dive into piles of church administration.  I've come through the most difficult year of my adult life, a kind of chaos I haven't known, though there has been plenty of painful difficulties over the years, and for some reason, that chaotic year, and a new church has simply laid to rest what once seemed like a tug of war in my heart and soul.  I may visit that calling and leave flowers at the graveyard, but there's no question in my heart, my mind, or my soul that the calling is no longer my concern.  It sits in  God's heart, and whatever may come to pass in this life or the next, is simply not something I need to wrestle with any longer.  One of my greatest passions will always be biblical interp.  I think it was inevitable that I "caught that bug," from a most astonishing New Testament professor, who put such energy and joy into teaching, who passed along such a love for scripture, that I don't think that particular part of my calling will ever disappear.  I haven't figured out exactly how to use it, but there isn't an urgency to figure it out.  Maybe I'll just always love to explore passages for their myriad of possibilities.

The ache in my head has continued, and so I'm going off to sleep, wishing you a peaceful night...or if you happen to read this during the day, a productive and happy day.

The Deception of Separation

Having grown up Christian and then very much embracing the path of Christian Spirituality, it is easy for me to slip into dualism.  Early Christians, as subversive and amazing as they were, were steeped in a dualism of the day.  Dualism divides the world into either/ors:  heaven or hell; good or bad; them and us.  Jesus teachings pressed people to go beyond seeing each other in the colors of opposites.  Jesus' teachings asked and still ask us to see the world in the living color.  He doesn't even talk about "grey" areas...but pure, unadulterated color!  And in the amazing gift and celebration of creation, we are called to usher in the kindom of God, a place where we are all on equal footing, where the respectable and the powerful willingly step back into a place of humility, and the poor, those lacking in privilege and power come right up to the front, and are given a place of honor.  Yes, you heard it right:  honor! 

Now the truth of the matter is that the powerful and the poor live within each of us.  If we listen and pay attention, we can find in ourselves the outcast, the broken, the poorest of the poor.  If we listen deeply and long enough, we begin to understand that in truth, there is no separation.  We set up the barriers.  We want to keep the poor well defined and well behaved, in their place.  Because keeping them at arm's length protects us from knowing them as human beings.  Keeping them separate keeps us secure in our "righteous" success.  And we needn't worry about slipping into the abyss of poverty and powerlessness.

And for some of us, honoring the power within ourselves is much the same...we despise how power has been used and abused, so we stand back from it, refusing it, refusing to acknowledge it dwells there in us, and we become blind to just how powerful we are.  And when we are blind to our power, well...it's a bit like swinging a sword with our eyes closed. 

Well, this conversation is a bit dualistic in itself. 

There's a guy here in the town where I live who is running for mayor, and who at one point in his life chose to be homeless.  Perhaps he still is homeless.  Wow.  What a radical concept!  Or is it?  Nope.  Let's see:  Jesus, St. Francis of Assisi and all of his followers to name a few. 

Small Heart...

There are days when my heart seems miniscule.  Days when my resentments seem bigger than my generosity.  It's a very good thing that Spirit is so much bigger than we are, so much more compassionate, unselfish, in a better humor, having countless ideas and a well of creativity that has no bottom to it.  What is so miraculous in all of this, is that Spirit invites us into all of that compassion, unselfishness, good humor, and creativity.  We may be unable to hear the invitation for all the noise around us, or the resentments in our hearts which seem to scream so loudly, nothing else is audible.  But the invitation is there.  She is constantly whispering in our ear, always at work in our lives in ways we can't necessarily fathom.  She can be a bit of a nudge.  And then she can bring
along Christmas miracles that leave us breathless.  Sometimes we turn a corner and life changes.  Our perspective widens.  And what has been so difficult, softens.  The path before us opens up and things just make sense. 

How in the world can my heart be so small when my identity is rooted in eternity; when my soul belongs to the One who never sleeps; when I am the recipient of love beyond all comprehension?

Here's to hoping we can hear Spirit's voice a little more clearly, as we continue the journey on which each of us has embarked, simply by being born into this world. 

The One Impossible Thing...

The happy heart gives away the best. To know how to receive is also a most important gift, which cultivates generosity in others and keeps strong the cycle of life.

Dhyani Ywahoo
Voices of Our Ancestors

I have been away from the intenet for nearly two weeks! A long hiatus. It looks as though there have been many visits here in my absence. I hope you haven't given up on me!
The quote about the happy heart came to my box today, from Gratefulness.org and I wanted to share it with you. I have been on both the giving and receiving end of the cycle. I guess I've always been a bit of a Franciscan by nature, believing that "things" are never permanent, and not ultimately of the most importance. Giving away a car, picking up a hitchiker, giving up a bag of cookies (on the healthy side of things) to a guy whose sign said he hadn't eaten in two days, and whose radiant face and happy exclamation as I tossed him the bag made me believe it was true; giving a tithe, even when practicality says it isn't prudent to do so; taking time to listen, inviting a stranger to tea, or giving away some furniture to a young woman with a baby who had very little...we give in many ways during any given day. Do we do so with a happy heart? Or begrudgingly?
Recently, things have been a bit rough going for me. I can remember a time when I moved into a new apartment and a friend came by with her truck to take me garage saling on a Saturday morning. All I had to spend that morning was $50, and somehow, we found everything I needed for my apartment within a couple of hours. Nice things too. People just wanting to lighten their load of stuff they really didn't need.
That was many years ago. This move has been different. I have friends who have literally kept me from landing on the streets! But the easy syncronicities aren't there. I seem to be out of sync! It's easy to keep the faith when things "flow." When life gives to us from it's amazing abundance, and we find generosity at every corner. But what of faith when everything is a struggle? When life seems stingy. When any past good we may have done, has no bearing on what happens to us in the present? Is it karma? I don't buy into that. Someone inspecting my life might say that some of my unwise choices, and there have been those, have taken God's favor away. Nah...I don't buy that either. We feel this need to explain why people suffer, why people are poor, why the sick are sick. That way if we're really good, those things can't touch us. But the truth is, none of us are invulnerable. Suffering comes to our lives. It hurts. We bleed. Our hearts break. Our souls feel weighed down by the difficulties.
I did find a candle holder at a yard sale. It has some beach stones in it, and there was a nice purple amythest. When I picked up the amythest, (is that the right spelling?), there was some wax on one side of it. So I cleared it off, and found a word inscribed on that stone: "Faith." It brought some tears. Especially when later that morning I went to church and the priest preached a sermon about remembering the poor, giving when the poor need something from us. He didn't preach with some apology for Jesus hard words to the young man who had kept all the commandments and asked Jesus what to do. When Jesus said "Give all that you have to the poor and follow me..." that was the one impossible thing for him to do. No apologies from Jesus either. I left church that morning knowing that God is with me, despite my lack of wisdom at times, despite my stubborness and all my mountain of fears.
That Jesus and his hard words...IMPOSSIBLE words! He always asks the one thing that is impossible of us...and we find that when we place our hand in God's hand, the impossible becomes possible. It may bring tears and loss and some suffering, but it always brings a gift. A treasure. The pearl of great price. I have no doubt that God never gave up on that young man who kept all the commandments, but couldn't give up his wealth. I have no doubt that at some point, that young man did that very thing and found heaven in the midst of what seemed as the greatest loss.
So, I'm wondering what impossible thing God is asking of you?
"With God, ALL things are possible!"
So we continue to live our lives with some kind of hope, knowing that when we face the impossible obstacle, God is right there in the obstacle, whispering "have faith dear one. You are not alone."  At least that's what I've been hearing lately. 

Feathers




public domain photo taken by Rita Ballantyne

  Haven't been spending enough time out in nature lately.  My heart has been heavy, feeling a bit like lead, truth be told.  Perhaps it's to be expected, now that the year of traveling has ended and I have found a home.  Perhaps it's the change of seasons.  I generally love the autumn, it's always been my favorite time of year.  But this year I am missing upstate New York and the brilliance of the season there.  Of course, if I really remember this time of year in upstate New York, we'd get a few days to ooo and ah over the trees, but then, when the trees were at their absolutely most beautiful, the rain would begin, and go right through the month.  None the less, I am thinking about the wonderful harvest festivals and fields of pumpkins, and, and...Oregon is beautiful. 

What is it about the human heart?  Always yearning for what it doesn't have?  Always looking backwards or forwards, aching and missing and dreaming.  And in the meantime, we miss the thing right in front of us...like that feather in your path.

I love to find feathers.  Not the feathers of yesterday's gossip.  But the feathers that birds have left, feathers which have fallen, right in my path.  When they arrive, they signal to me that I need to wake up, pay attention and open my heart to some special experience that will come to me that day.  Usually a wonderful conversation with someone.  Sometimes a visit from Spirit in surprising ways.  Sometimes a tangible gift follows.

A few weeks ago, when I thought I was leaving the area to go back to New York, a friend and I had taken the dogs out to the lake for a walk, and had brought our lunch with us.  We had a great time together, though my friend's dog is older, and took a couple of tumbles on the rocks.  Still, he seemed happy to be out, sniffing the smells.  Joy, my dog was happy as could be.  We walked and explored, found a really large agate and some other beautiful stones, munched on our sandwiches and then walked back to the car.  I trailed a bit behind, wanting to drink in the beauty one last time, watching for the eagle or osprey which frequent that place.  As I looked down where I was walking, I noticed feathers.  Small feathers in abundance.  They were caught all the way along the crumbling pavement by my feet.  Clumps of them all the way along.  And they didn't all look like they had come from the same bird.  I smiled.  Knowing that my path, wherever I was going would be full of Spirit's gifts and assistance, full of good hearted people, wonderful conversations, deep connections and provision.

Some of those feathers were no doubt goose feathers, but a week or two later, I was reading about eagles and osprey in a coffeeshop, and there were photos where I guess they were preening, and there were bunches and clumps of small feathers that looked surprisingly familiar.  Wow.

The natural world is so full of surprising and beautiful gifts.  What will fall in your path today?  Keep your eyes and your heart open.  There's a world of possibility out there.

  

POISON

Wish there was some way to put a label on "gossip."  It is poison.  I detest it.  I don't participate in it, and I stop people from doing it around me.  Spreading rumors that are often lies, colors perceptions about people.  I wish there was some way to wake people up to the reality of the harm that can be done...just how destructive it is to speak ill of others when we may not know the truth or the whole story.  There is no such thing as "harmless" gossip.  And sometimes we fool ourselves into thinking that we're just trying to be supportive, talking about someone's situation with someone else, when in reality, we're gossiping. 

I appreciate that old story about a woman coming to a man's deathbed and apologizing for gossiping about him and asked him to forgive her.  Her words had tarnished his reputation, and kept him from being able to do business successfully, and even interact with his neighbors in the way he had before the gossip started. 

The man said he would gladly forgive her if the woman would do him a favor.  "Take a feather pillow and cut it open and take it to the window."  She did as he said.  "Now empty the pillow."  And she did.  They watched as the feathers were carried off by the wind in every direction.  "Now go and gather all the feathers up.  Every single one"

"I can't do that...there's no way to find them all!"  She gasped.

Yes, that's what gossip does.  There's no way to bring back the words, no way to stop those words from flying to all the ends of the earth.

Maybe she left there changed.  I hope so.

"Aloha..."  May we bless others today.  Encourage, build up, speak well of people, believe the best of others until we know the whole truth, and then try to heal the world instead of using words to harm.

Aloha!



public domain photo

 Woke before 4 am this morning.  My sleep patterns have been a bit off.  The full moon seems to have that effect on me.  I'll let you decide what that means!  But here I am at the page, my little cardtable sqeaking away as I write, the beads on my lamp jiggling, a smile on my face.

Lately I've been trying to live more in the spirit of  "Aloha."  Many of you probably know that Aloha means more than hello and goodbye.  It is a blessing.  The Hawaiann people believe that affirming the beauty and goodnes of things and people is a blessing, while complaining about them is cursing them.  So we have a choice each day about how we are going to approach our lives and the world.  None of us can completely avoid complaining.  It's human nature.  But we can outweigh the cursing with blessing, naming and appreciating the goodness in our lives.  I guess it's similar to the movement abroad that is about gratitude.  And when we bless and affirm the goodness of another or of nature, that comes back to us.

No wonder I've had such a rough year this past year.  Whew!  All the complaining I've done in my life is coming back on me!  Augh!  I have a lot of work to do if the blessing is going to outweigh all the complaints!

So, today I will try to bless...even the things that seem less than wonderful.  Today I will try and see the beauty and goodness in all of creation.  It's not hard to see at all.

I think of the Rogue Valley World Ensemble that played and sang for a lively audience last night, their music spilling out, children dancing wildly and happily, old people smiling, tapping feet, holding hands, families spread out over the grass on their blankets and chairs.  Joy!  What a gift of joy!  What enthusiasm!  It's contagious.  There was a new friend sitting next to me, sharing the experience, her face alight with smiles and laughter.  I think of how I went to that concert, my body tense, my heart heavy, the complaints definitely outnumbering the blessings!  And when I left, walking back to my car in the fading light, a harvest moon coming up over the mountains, I felt myself blessed, surrounded by the beauty and peace of this place.  Thank you singers and players of music!  Thank you for lifting our hearts.

Thank you dear reader, for taking the time to come to my blog.  Thank you for reading these words.  Many of you I know well, can see your faces, and I bless you this day.  I bless your open hearts and open minds.  I am grateful for your presence in my life, for the love you bring to this world, and to me!  I feel your smiles, can hear our shared laughter over something we both find funny.  I am grateful for your work in this world...whatever it may be!  Cooking good food; writing, editing, singing, dancing, cleaning bathrooms, building houses, directing, leading, following, caring for children, caring for elders, dreaming dreams!

With some of you there is a daily connection that has blessed me over many years, and for others there is less contact, and yet the contact we have has such depth and gift within it.  And still others are unknown to me, you are mystery out there in cyber space.  I send you love and light, praying that your day is full of surprising joy! 

Well...that was a start for the day, and already my heart is lighter!  That's the beautiful thing about "Aloha!"  The results can be felt immediately. 

Try it!

A Servant's Heart

Full Moon

Nasa public domain photo

Last night brought a beautiful dream to me.  A friend, with whom there has been an altercation, and I were suddenly friends again.  We didn't get into deep conversations about what happened or who was "wrong" or "right."   We simply put what had happened in the past, and there was laughter and love, encouragement, support and warmth, where there has been such brokeness. (at least for me.)  The dream was moving into a brief moment where romance seemed possible, and then not, when suddenly I was awakened by a dreadful sound...a lonely, frightened wail...no, it was a howl that made the hair on the back of my neck stand on end.  It was in my room!  What was it?  2:30 am, heart pounding I sat up and looked over at Joy, my beloved mutt, who lifted her head and looked at me as though she was wondering what my problem was.  It must have been Joy, but given the fact that I still had goosebumps and heart palpatations, I climbed out of bed and went through the house looking.  Closets were empty of intruders.  Doors were firmly locked.  All the proper boundaries between myself and the outer world were in place.

I went to the window and gazed out at the full moon.  Was Joy following some ancient canine instinct, howling at the moon?  Perhaps.  Or perhaps she was having a terrible nightmare, which seems even more likely.  She has them on a regular basis.  She seems happy enough for the most part during the day, but the past rears its dragonlike head in her dreams which most often leave her whimpering, her paws twitching.  You can see how the past has wounded her if you spend much time with her.  She is timid.  She shies at loud noises, running for cover, she is quite suspicious about someone offering her food, and she has amazing instincts about people...pulling back from those whose energy is angry or violent or suspect in some way.  A young man came to see the place, as I have an advertisement on Craigslist for a housemate, and she was quite cool to him.  I had a feeling about him as well.  And then a young woman came to see the house and Joy went wild with delight, following her around, begging her to play, to rub her belly, to give her some attention.  I liked the young woman's energy and would have enjoyed having her as a roomate.  But she wasn't happy about the idea of dealing with a property management company.  She hasn't called back. 

The dream I had last night has brought tears today.  I yearn for healing and forgiveness.  My heart hurts that this friend has pulled away.  Ultimately, the truth of the matter is that each of us knows that we are one.  There are no walls of separation, no judgements, no enmity in the space where soul meets soul, where the heart sees the truth about the other.  And yet the past so often howls at us in the middle of the night, waking our fear, leaving us wondering what the truth IS.  Is there no way forward, no way to put the past behind us?  Will the past always haunt us?  Raising its head over and over and over again, taunting us with the choices we have made, leering at us, humiliating us and leaving us covered in regrets? 

It seems to me that there is a place outside of time, where the past and the present are one and the same.  The soul is always working out the questions of change or "repentence", which really just means to turn around and go a different way; forgiveness, which is sometimes most difficult for ourselves; and redemption, turning the past into a precious thing that brings healing and hope to those around us, transforming what has been the pain of our wrongdoing into something powerful that can move mountains and melt away walls, and make something new and amazing...like a phoenix rising from the ashes, a butterfly from a cacoon, a dragonfly emerging from a little waterbug.

This woman prays for redemption for us all: leaving the past behind and moving into a better future where we can see each other with wide open eyes and know the deepest truths with compassion and grace.

I suppose my lax attitude about punctuation will come back to haunt me.  If you need evidence, just reread this article carefully!  Of course if you read the core of my essay, the light which is my soul, is here. 

 

Humility



"The Mary's" at St. James in Oneonta, NY  Photo by C. Schroeder, 2011, all rights reserved.

 This morning, coming out of the food coop, I noticed a van with some churchy saying on it that talked about how humility comes before honor.  I think that the saying can be true.  But the question of what "humility" means and what "honor" means, would probably make for a lively discussion between me and the originator of the quote on the van. 

In one of Madeliene L'Engle's books, I believe it is Walking on Water, she talks about how failure didn't make her humble.  Success made her humble.  Yes.  It's true.  Finding one's voice, and having that voice heard and honored creates humility.  Perhaps the long struggle to that place helps create character, but success in the truest sense of the word, success when we are living out our purpose in this world, makes us very humble and grateful and joyful.  So I don't necessarily concur with the writer in the first paragraph...was it Solomon?  I think that sometimes honor can fill us with humility. 

Too often "humility" and "humiliation" seem interchangeable to some in this world.  Grinding someone down into the dust, beating them senseless with the message of their worthlessness and uselessness does NOT create someone who is humble.  It creates someone who is afraid and broken and wounded.  And much too often, those who abuse their power are people who really have little to no self worth.  They try to find it in intimidating, abusing, humiliating those who are more vulnerable than they are.  They try to find it in stalking people who are in truth much, much more powerful than they are.  Because even the rapist or the murderer or the child molester and the vileness of those acts against us cannot take away the core that makes us who we are.  That is eternal.  The terrible stuff that happens in life may leave us covered in mud, but it cannot reach the core.  That core is our soul, our spirit and it is infused with holiness, with light, with the Christ!  No one, not the most vile of offenders can destroy that. 

It often takes a lifetime to remember the core of who we are.  But when we do, we have true power, and it is rooted in light and in love.

Humility is about having that true power and using it wisely to encourage and build up, to help others see their worth, even if they don't have an ounce of self respect.  I have a friend like that.  I doubt that she even knows that she does it, or knows the power that she has.  Being with her bouys me up!  Leaves me happier.  It leaves me with a deeper sense of who I really am.  She sees the Christ in me and honors that. 

Well...as the preacher likes to say:  GLOOOOO--RY!!!!

Let's keep shining up the mirrors, the glass, the reflectors that we are, so the glory and the power of that which is eternal is really clear!    

Hard Day

 

Money and the Power of Fear

"There's not enough" the rational, "in control" Constance says to me.
"I don't want to hear it.  That's fear talking.  Spirit provides in abundance."
"Oh sure...like that time..."
"Stop it!  Get a grip."
The cash register rings and the clerk speaks the total.
Constance gasps.
"Stop it!  It's going to be ok.  Really it will.  We'll find a way."
"You already owe so much.  We don't have any living room furniture and you're sleeping on an air mattress for God's sake."
"Maybe it IS for God's sake!  And besides, that air mattress is quite comfortable.  And I've kept this stuff to a minimum.  You begrudge me some pillows and glasses and silverware?  C'mon."
"Starting all over at your age Connie, really!"
"What of it?  Lots of older people start over.  Let's make a stop at the Y and see what a membership costs."
"You won't use it.  You'll spend the money and it will just be a waste."
"Now just wait a minute.  Remember all the times I HAVE used my memberships?  All that swimming I used to do."
     Constance just hrumphs ungraciously.  She is rather difficult this overly responsible, purse lipped, penny pinching, disapproving but dear person who wants to meet her obligations.  I do listen to her.   I write down what I spend.  I keep track of it all.  But to be honest, I know how to deal with her.  It's the fearful one I don't have name for.  She would never think herself worthy of ANYTHING at all...just chicken backs, or bread and water.  I don't think even St. Francis himself or Mother Teresa could rival her in the department of deprivation and sacrifice.  Of course. all of that emerges out of the bog that is the past. 
     Does it sound familiar in any way shape or form?  Money worries can escalate into abject terror for me these days.  I'm on a tight budget.  I have such a desire to create a beautiful home.  But even garage sales cost money that I don't have at present. 
     It's going to be ok.  Even sleeping on an air mattress for months.  Even if the only plants on the patio are ones in my imagination.  Even though the squeaky card table and chair here in my room wiggle every time I move.  Even though my piano was bought completely on credit.  There will be a way through.  I've got some ideas for earning some extra money.  I've got some hope in my pocket...so it's not completely empty. 
     How does that old song go that I used to sing at nursing homes? 
     "Hey Look me over, lend me an ear, Fresh out of clover and mortgaged up to here.
      Don't pass the plate folks, don't pass the cup.
      I figure whenever you're down and out, the only way is up
      And I'll be up like a rosebud, high on the vine,
      Don't thumb your nose bud, take a tip from mine,
      I'm a little bit short of the elbow room, so let me get me some,
      And look out world here I come!
               Cy Coleman and Carolyn Leigh from the 1960 musical Wildcat

So I take a good, inspiring look at the foothills out the window and dream about how I can find the money for a small business start up costs.  Uh oh...Constance is starting another lecture.  I'd better go.

Have a blessed day!

new starts

New Life pulsing,

Old Life ebbing away.
New Life pulsing,
Old Life ebbing away.

Being born, a new creation
Old life ebbing away
Dancing this eternal story,
Old life ebbeing away...
pressing through to the light of day.
Old life ebbing away,
pressing through to the light of day.
Old life ebbing away,
pressing through to the light of day.

This is a simple chant that came to me a few days ago as I moved into a new apartment here in Oregon.  It's a beautiful place, and I hope I can find a way to be here for a good long time.  But old things still hover around me here.  Old fears.  Old mindsets.  Old tapes playing in my head.  Still, the old life is ebbing away.  However strong the pain and the fear and the confusion, it is passing and something new is coming to life.  This valley is known as the valley of healing.  And it is.  And the quest for healing is a demanding one.  It isn't a simple thing to face the self.  It is complicated and messy and miraculous.

This week I keep thinking about this time I was going to preach at this little country church.  All week long that week I struggled to find the right illustration for the sermon.  It was about (have you guessed?), NEW LIFE.  A new creation.  It was Sunday morning, and I still didn't have a good illustration.  There are plenty of good illustrations, one would think, right?  Well, my mind couldn't find anything.  I tried to center myself as I was driving to church.  Tried to open my heart.  Nothing. 

"Okay Spirit, but this is going to be one of my more boring sermons."  I could hear a faint chuckle from out there in the cosmos.  I think she was holding back a big belly laugh. 



The drive was beautiful.  It was autumn in upstate New York.  I pulled up to the church and onto a grassy parking lot with a fence.  As I got out of the car I noticed a couple of the church members on the other side of the fence in the field with a cow.  And there it was.  The cow was giving birth.  And for the first time in my life, I watched a calf being born.  How exciting!!!  What a miracle!!!  And as I watched, I thought to myself:  "YUCK!  What a MESS!!!"

Yes there it was, my illustration for the sermon.  Yes, I could hear Spirit laughing aloud.  "Very funny" I muttered.

"What did you say?"  Carol asked me, getting out of her car. 

"Oh, just muttering to myself.  God's enjoying a joke on me at the moment."

"What a sweet little calf."  she said, her eyes following the newborn.



public domain photo taken by Kim Newburgh



By this time the baby was actually standing on its feet, quite wobbly, looking for some breakfast after such an ordeal as being born.  Big eyes blinked at this bright new world.  And the farmers who had helped the cow, were off to remove those bloody clothes and shower.  They made it in time for the sermon!

Giving birth to oneself sounds so impressive.  But the reality is messy.  And it hurts.  The reality means mucking around through the mess to get to the new life.   It means looking at the not so pretty stuff about oneself.  The plain truth.  But the final result is worth every bit of the mess and even the pain. 

Blessed Be. 

With gratitude this day and every day for the new life which comes to birth in this world.  May we have courage as we face the mess and embrace the miracle of our lives.

Everyone loved the sermon by the way.  It was one of my better ones.

From Oregon

Isn't she something? Public domain. Courtesy of Caia Cupito and Ore-Cal RC&D

It has been 11 months since I've left upstate New York and stopped blogging on "She Who Listens."  I am hoping to start up again as I have found a temporary home, which I hope become permanent.  Southern Oregon is a beautiful place to live, and of course Mount Shasta, which is just a couple of hours from here is one of the places that has always spoken to me.  The first time I lived in Oregon, a friend and I drove a U-Haul through the mountains on January 1st.  A fool hardy thing...if I had known, but Spirit and some angels were with us...it was unseasonably warm, and there was rain and sunshine.  We came through Mt. Shasta on I-5, and found ourselves driving through the end of a double rainbow.  There were several more, totalling six rainbows, all the way down into Oregon. 

That was some 19 years ago.  So many changes over the years.  Traffic was always an issue here, but the influx from California has brought much more traffic flow on I-5.  Driving here requires absolute presence to one's driving.  One MUST be on constant alert for bicyclists and people crossing on crosswalks.  And I got a speeding ticket the week before I moved into the small townhouse I'm renting.  50 mph in a 35 mph zone.  I was stressed and not paying close enough attention.  $160!  OUCH!  That felt a bit cruel and unusual for someone on a very limited budget.  I think I'm getting the hang of driving here however.  I just go quite slow and keep my wits about me.  The police department does a good job of keeping order here, and as always, I'm grateful for the people who put their lives on the line, so the rest of us can be safer.  Well, they say "pride goeth before a fall,"  (is that a quakerism?), and I guess I have just been too prideful about my good driving record.  So I better not complain.

Anyone looking for a a nice place to share?   I've started the hunt for a roomate.  Just posted last night, but this isn't an easy place to find housing, and usually there are bundles of applicants for rooms.  I've only gotten one reply thus far...someone from California coming to work at SOU.  We'll see what today brings.

My most recent good news is that I got a piano!  A Charles Frederick Stein, which has a wonderful sound.  I got a good deal on it.  I'm a bit shy about playing it as I don't want to bother the neighbors.  But I'm starting to play a bit again.  And I'm grateful. 

Well...that's my latest news.  We'll see how things go.  I'll keep you posted.