fear

At 5:08 today it has been 3 weeks – 3 weeks of blur – poignant memories, mail i didn’t ask for  -  and fear.

A loud choking, hurling sound woke me up at 2:30 in the morning – i thought it was the dog – it wasn’t.  911 – emt’s ‘we have a pulse again’…  a ventilator and a flight to another hospital – and it was almost all over...  cerebral hemorrhage …. massive, instant, painless I was assured – and time to make a decision.

He was a registered organ donor – it said so in the power of attorney that was given to me. so i had to make a decision – honor  his wishes – of course.

 i could do no less … lungs, kidneys skin tissue, bone, corneas – all for those who most needed them. A godsend for them -  and yet…………

How do you process all of this?  The first nurse, when i asked – ‘it’s not  good’ the other nurse, manually keeping the ventilator going and his breathing steady, the doctor -  you have a decision to make – “if we wait, heart attack and the organs are no longer viable – it’s your call.

15 hours – start to finish – gone.   i’m assured there was nothing i could have done to make a difference – it was too massive – too quick.

In retrospect – it was the way he wanted to go – quick, painless over in about an instant.  But what about us – his brother, nieces and nephews -other family members – students – coworkers – me, his wife of 38 years …………

The paper work gets done – insurance, bills, etc.  the dogs get walked – that was his job.  the lawn? neighbor kid looking for college money. grocery bills cut in more than half … milk? A ½ gallon now – now need for more.

Moments, days when I cannot breathe for the pain in my heart.  Days when my heart is like a block of wood – hard, unyielding, unable to feel. I’m told – at least a year of this – maybe more.  I know this – death is no stranger to me …

Food? I eat because I know I have to – but 2-3 bites and I’m done.  There’s weight to lose – but I wouldn’t recommend this approach.

Wine? That’s another story.  I made Brandy Old Fashioneds on Sunday because that’s what we did…together……

i can’t help but think of all the things we will not do together –  all the trips we will not take – Norway – Ireland – Asia, Australia again, road trips out west and east … will I do them alone?  Who knows – it’s enough just to get out of the house on a daily basis so I don’t become a recluse………. Which I could do for a while… maybe.

Did i mention fear? Fear that something will happen to me and the dogs will be alone for days -  fear that my ‘affairs’ will not be in sufficient order and the relatives will have a hard time slogging thru it all – fear that I will die alone – or worse – drooling uncontrollably for years.

i have never been one to be afraid – but now? i am afraid in a way that i never been before.  He always had my back – and now?  Who has my back now?  Fear.   i was afraid on that morning 3 weeks ago – so afraid i could hardly breathe.  And many times i still can’t.

and yet  even as a ‘woman of faith’, I have to ask – where is God in all of this?

Orlando June 12, 2016

It's been awhile since I've voiced my opinion out loud and in public.  It’s been a few years since I’ve posted on my own blog.  That doesn't mean I don't have an opinion – or a voice – but for whatever reason I’ve been silent.  But no more. 

 I think I’m done being silent… because more voices are required.  I used my voice in the 60’s and I’m gonna use my voice now.

While I do believe that the world is inherently good – after all God said so when she created it…  events of the past  2000 years might disprove that.  Especially the events of this past Sunday … (not to mention all of the violent events of the past umptynine years)

What happened this past Sunday in Orland is, without question, wrong on many levels. But it is also a symptom of our overall brokenness. 

So what do we do? Sure prayer and verbal condemnation are appropriate, but it is not enough   Not even close. So what do we do?  What can I do?  What can WE do?  I don't  know.  I do know prayer is not enough. Verbal spewage is not enough.

Protest ? How?  Unelect NRA supporters?  Drag everyone kicking  and screaming back to church?  Unelect Republicans?   Preach louder from the pulpit? I don't have an answer.  But I do know that this is not what Jesus would do. This is not what Jesus would want.  This is not what Jesus died for.  And as Christians, especially Lutheran Christians, we are to be involved in the social justice issues of our day – we are not to remain silent…we are not to sit with our hands under our butts.

Our Christian faith, and the Muslim faith and the Jewish faith, should and do condemn these acts of terrorism  - and rightly so..  Violence and hate are contrary to our beliefs. So what do we do?

I don't know.  But doing nothing is not the answer…

FEET..................

The worship service was ¾ over - and now it was time for communion.   I got up and followed the people in front of me  - head down, hands cupped ready to receive - my mind still, footsteps slow. I receive the bread and wine and walked back to my seat.  I’m at the end of the row - but close enough to the front that I can see almost everyone who was behind me walk forward just as I did. But now all I see are their feet.

Feet, like hands, come in all shapes and sizes. Most of the worshipers have shoes on - and they too come in all shapes, sizes and colors.  Some are barefoot.  Because these are my colleges, I recognize some of the shoes and some of the feet.

Flash forward to the Via de Cristo overnight training session.   It’s late - we are all tired - but we gather in a circle around 2 chairs situated in the middle of the room -a candle is lit and sitting on the small low table next to the open bible.  At each place are a basin of water and towels neatly folded.   

Instructions are given and the story is read.  And then one buy one, men on one side , women on the other - we get up and sit - to have our feet washed and dried by a stranger.   We do know each other - but enough to be this intimate?  

Feet are amazing things - they carry us around - wherever we decide to go - sometimes without complaint - and many times with. Blisters, bruises, sore muscles, fallen arches, bunions, calluses, toe nails too long or too short.  We tend to take them for granted - until they scream in pain.

They walk in all kinds of things - both barefoot and otherwise.  You never really know what is on the ground  - that icky something might get caught between your toes - or stuck on the bottom of your shoe.  Bare and walking on holy ground - or shod with leather to get them thru the muck.

And like our hands - they come in all shapes sizes and colors.  From the plump  and soft feet with sausage toes of the 6 month old to the knarly and worn out feet of the elder.

But feet, like our hands, are needed.  Not only by the body that they support - but by God  - how else will the hands get to the places they need to be in order to do the work God has called them to do?

Worship - serving - resting - running -  walking - 

God’s work our hands -  God’s work our feet.  Amen

                       The storm is rolling in…


I’m sitting on the front porch -  alone - the dogs and hubby are out for a walk around the pond- I’m somewhat sequestered due to a bum knee……..And I notice:  the leaves on the trees are almost perfectly still, there are dirty grey clouds moving in from the south and west - every once in a while the sun breaks through and leaves patches of light on the ground.   And the air is more than just  very still - and clear -  no breeze - there is expectation is in the air.  The birds are not as noisy as they usually are -  just a few songs here and there - the pond frogs are quiet -  the rose petals are still -  the butterflies seem to be quieter than usual, hummingbirds are not flitting as they usually do at this hour - it  seems like the world around me is in that still expectation of knowing that something is coming, but it is not here yet…that still point - that moment between what was and what will be….

Kinda like waiting for the bride to show up at her wedding …  we went to the wedding of one of Glenn’s former students - she is 30 now not a kid anymore - the wedding invite said 6:00 is show time - but the world does not always cooperate -  at 6:15 or so it is announced that some of the family has not yet arrived - and so we wait and drink and chat and socialize and mingle and meander-  finally about 7:00ish we gather  and the wedding  takes place as  planned…. Not a lot of stillness here - but waiting - hoping for what is expected…………….

‘…Be still and know that I am God…‘  many of us know that verse, but how often do we really understand what it means?

‘Be still…’   how often do we really get to do that?  It is about Sabbath after all…but more than that - even creation needs to take a break  and stop - and wait and see what comes next -even if it is a big storm………….

‘Be still…’  our minds need to rest, our busy brains get overloaded - as do our tired and over worked bodies, especially when they hurt…

‘Be still…’   what do we expect out of the silence and stillness?  Healing? Comfort? A Word of hope? Answered prayer?  Maybe not even all of that … but the realization that God is everywhere - in the storm and the calm before,  in the mess of tragedy and the healing of community - in the quiet of the leaves on the trees and the still water of the pond -  in the noise and calamity of emotional distress.  We have a God that is everywhere at once - with us no matter what is happening.

‘Be still and know that I am God…’  always, everywhere, but unless we stop with hearts open and ears that are willing to hear, we will miss it - that something that is mystical and inexplicable and healing and comforting and both beyond us and in us at the same time,

The storm is rolling in - we can never stop it - but we can  ’be still and know…. ’
       (Photo courtesy of Microsoft Clip Art)



   

Goose Chronicles and Turtle Travails cont’d.


Life can be cruel - several days ago, I was out looking to see how mom goose was doing - only to discover that she was gone - and so were her eggs.   I walked around the pond to where the nest is and found that the eggs had been broken open - nothing left but shells littering the bank …and  downy goose feathers floating on the water.  I don’t know if the raccoons got to them - or maybe even coyotes - although I‘m guessing raccoons.   Since Dad is gone too I’m sure they left town - no need to stay here anymore.  I was so looking forward to the young goslings.  As I’m sure Mom was too.   Do geese have feelings?  How does she come to terms with the destruction of her not-yet babies?   These are human questions - for which we often do not have answers.  


Several of the turtle nests had also been vandalized - but the one right on front of our house is still intact… even the dogs have not bothered it…


We all know that life can be cruel - or so we say.  But the reality is that even raccoons need to eat which is probably why geese reproduce like rabbits…


We humans are the ones that put labels on things - like ‘life is cruel’- platitudes that mean nothing and are not comforting.


Our comfort is in the creator God who sees to it that all are fed - “look at the birds of the air, they neither sow nor reap…and yet your heavenly Father  feeds them….”   

May 11, 2012


Goose Chronicles and Turtle Travails………

The geese came early this year - about the end of February. Several pairs vying for territorial rights - and then they were gone. It appeared that no one wanted to stay - even tho we had mowed down the area around the old nest. A couple of days ago - on my nightly walk around the pond, I noticed what looked like a dead goose in the nest. But Mom was not dead, just very still and hunkered down, head under her wings. Three days later and she is still there - so she must be sitting on eggs. If so, this will be the first time in several years that we have had goslings - but that still remains to be seen - the raccoons are VERY persistent when it comes to the delicacy of fresh eggs. Dad is close by - holding steady on the water - still - hardly moving - rarely even eating - but paying very close attention to who ever and what ever trespasses in his domain… And of course Mom does not feed until the eggs are hatched. This seems rather late in the season to be sitting on the nest - but then what do I know - I’m not a goose. Silly maybe, but not a goose.

These birds are very focused - instinct takes over obviously, and they are doing what they were created to do.

And then there was Mom turtle laying her eggs in the grass - it’s fairly obvious - sitting on what looks like a mud hole. If the raccoons don’t get these, they will hatch in about 90 days. But I will never see them - they will be gone back into the water in spite of my persistent watching. (and I did mark the spot so I can come back to it…)

These creatures that God has made are focused - determined by their genes, single-minded - they have no choice really but to do what they were created to do…

So why can’t we do, with single-minded determination, what we were created to do?
(photo courtesy of the web)

5-7-12
Water Water everywhere and not a drop to drink…………….. Why is it that late nite is when I get ’inspired” I have no idea…………… anyway… maybe because I have just come from a Via de Cristo meeting?  Where - surprise, I am now one of the spiritual directors….  Anyway………

The local chapter of VdC is  called ‘Living Water.’
 Does that mean there is ‘dead water’?  I think so.. Living water, as in Jesus, and life giving baptismal water.
What is living water?   Water that is nourishing, vibrant - cool, not too hot or too cold.  As Lutheran/Christians we have grown up with the image of living water - Jesus talks about himself that way - nourishing and vibrant - life giving.  But we all know that many around the world do not have literal living water - fetid -  smelly  - polluted - full of dis-ease - and parasites  -  not life giving at all.  More like death defying.

So is it literal water - H2O -  or is there more to this image?

We have a pond in front of our house - we had it dug many years ago - and it is full of life - plants growing from the bottom up, and some flowering, algae, frogs, turtles that seem to have come from nowhere, ducks and geese and who knows what  else.  It is a vibrant and living thing this  pond.  It changes all the time and it is all about what God has done in that place……….  You know the cliché  - “… nature abhors a vacuum…”    Well there is no vacuum here. There is even a huge weeping willow tree that has taken root and thrived - on the edge of this living water……………… and I, and the dogs, like to talk around it - re-connect with our creator………….. Did I mention the frogs?   Yes - the frogs - I have no idea where they came from - they are just there along with the turtles that are now as big as dinner plates - and the moms lay their eggs in the grass… do they pray? (yes I believe they do, in their own turtle way - that no one will eat what they have so painstakingly laid down and buried……………)

Living water - rain, pond water, lakes and streams, oceans and seas, Jesus, chlorinated water from the tap, filtered to within an inch of it’s life, Jesus, bottled, purified, homogenized, Jesus, nutrient added - but safe and living, Jesus,.……………..

Living water - means different things to different people ..
What does it mean to you??

Hands

Four worship services in 2 days is by no means a record - nor unusual.  But in 4 services a lot of people come forward to receive communion - it is at the core of our worship.  For some reason during service #3, I noticed the hands -  not just “oh here are so and so’s hands - but really looking at them.  And I was humbled.

Hands that were 89 and 90 and 95 years old, spotted with age, knarly knuckles, hands bent into unusual shapes by hard work and arthritis…  hands that have a history,  
And then there were the hands of some of the women, perfect manicures, polish fresh and shiny, a counterpoint to the paper thin skin that betrayed their age,                                  
And then there were the farmers hands, large and beefy, the dust that we will some day return to still embedded under their nails,            
And then there were the mothers hands, holding squirming babies and toddlers, trying to juggle the small wafer and their children’s quickly moving hands that wanted to touch everything,
And then there were the youth, the twixt and teens, preadolescence and 20 somethings.  Young hands, some still plump with baby fat, some slender and graceful, some with nails chewed to bits, polish chipped, rarely perfect, hands with a future.

But in spite of all of the differences, they all had one thing in common.  Hands open to receive the life source - needing the bread/body of Christ, needing to soak up the life giving wine/blood.  Some hands wide open with left cupping right, curled into cups or flat out like a plate, some hands with fingers open as if to pinch the wafer out of the air, but all open in receiving.  It was humbling to see that need and pure joy to be able to fill it.

4-26-12

The Dogs did it to me again…………..

I was feeling guilty - I’d been in the house almost all day working on one thing or another and the pups had been patiently hanging out in their usual spots - I was also stiff from sitting most of the afternoon (it was sermon writing day) - and so I figured a walk around the pond was in order. As soon as the shoes and jacket are on Rocky knows what’s up - and he is at the door spinning like a whirling dervish knowing (or at least assuming) that we will go O.U. T. for a W.A.L. K.

The air was cool and crisp but the sun was warm and the 2 sweatshirts were a bit much - but oh well. I got as far as the open garage door - and there sitting patiently, (or maybe in fear, I don‘t know) was a toad - the first I’d seen this season. I’m sure that if I hadn’t opened the garage door, the unfortunate being would croak - no pun intended…

So I gently persuaded him/her to move to the grass and on to safety. Walks with the dogs always require sticks and so they get picked up as I go along - Rocky drooling over the prospect of catching yet one more…Vespa, however, has her nose firmly and deeply in the grass as she walks, more concerned with what is infiltrating her Kingdom than sophmoric things like catching sticks….

We walk up over the dam of the pond startling the wood ducks that are quietly minding their own business - but I know they’ll be back. A lot has happened around the edge of the pond since the walk yesterday and Vespa is making sure she gets all the mail, and then leaves some of her own. This is her turf doncha ya know…

As we walk I notice that some of the flowers are already past their prime and (of course this is only April) some have not even begun to think about budding out. The day lilies are not yet ready - but what a show when they are! The weeping willow tree is enormous after 16 years of being rooted so close to water, branches elegantly sweeping the ground, a perfect place to sit and watch the world go by - either in it’s lap at ground level, or in it’s majestic arms. Even in my dotage I can still climb this one……….and I do (but not today). Geese have nested here in the past and the raccoons and muskrats have left their marks here as well… and of course Vespa knows all this. But today nothing to get worked up over.

A short game of catch the stick - with Rocky it is dance - sky - catch and he does it well, it’s his favorite game… we‘re on the peninsula (the pond is U shaped) with plenty of room to roam for both of them - and I can let Vespa off the lead.. no nut trees here for the squirrels to hide in, or for her to chase to her physical detriment.

As we come around to the street side of the pond I notice that the 2 trees that guard the overflow are dead… and need to be cut down - one more thing on the to-do list. But there are spring woodland wildflowers growing here - planted by You-Know-Who. A rare treat indeed. A slow walk up the lane now, we’re almost back to the house - and what do I see in the lane but a dead toad, apparently squished by a car… not too far from the chipmunk den in the lane.. S/he is a brave one that monkeychips…

As I get closer to the house I walk around the flower beds that in my youthful exuberance I planted years ago… They pretty much take care of themselves now - hyssop, gladiolas, woodland sunflowers, spiderwort, Ohio and otherwise, columbine, poppy, peony and hosta and daylilies and who knows what else… Oh yeah, the hickory tress that ‘plant themselves’….where they don’t belong?? (says who?, but that‘s another pondering…..)

Toads dead on the ground, trees no longer vibrant, broken branches from the last wind storm strewn about like so many pick-up sticks, flowers spent of their very life, the carpet of pine needles under the wall of evergreens on the west side of the pond, pine cones fallen, burping up their precious seeds…death………..

Woodland flowers with brilliant Crayola colors, hidden in plain view, the stately weeping willow dancing in the breeze, toads hopping to who knows where, ducks making a mad dash to safety, geese, when they are there, squawking their adversaries away, life………… and it is good.

Life is birthed from death - we know that somehow in our innermost being - we know that.………But it is always a surprise and revelation when it is in plain sight in front of us - in front of me that is….

Isn’t that what Resurrection is all about?

Happy, glorious, wonderful, magnificent, earthy and death defying Easter Season my friends…………

Reflections #3

Stream of consciousness again - here goes nothing………………………

It felt so good to be back in the pulpit - 3 worship services in 2 days and not a bit tired. Think I’m gonna love supply - no, the relationships with the people aren’t the same but the appreciation in honest - and I guess I like feeling needed. And while I know that it is in service to God that I am doing all this - I like the warm fuzzies that come with it……………

…and so I’m sitting at the dinner table later today - the sun is streaming in through the windows and sliding glass doors and playing cat & mouse on the floor- the sun was brilliant today - clear air - sharp - crisp. Anyway the sun is reflected on the floor - and there are edges between the sun and the shadow. My sermon this morning was about reflection- reflecting on the empty tomb and the Christ that is and isn’t there ….

And I was reflecting…. Shadows aren’t the same as darkness - you can’t see anything when it is very dark - but you can still see in the shadows - not as much and not as clear, but still … but that sharp line between sun streaming and shadow simmering along side it, there is an edge. Kinda like the edge of understanding…

Kinda like where the disciples where on that day that Jesus appeared to them …they weren’t sure what they were seeing - a ghost? Jesus? Really? Seriously?

Well yeah……………….ghosts don’t eat and drink and we know Jesus did that a lot…with everyone, especially all those ’unimportant’ people - and even us - yes Jesus eats and drinks with us and feeds us with his very self.
The disciples were teetering on this edge of understanding - but eventually came around to at least believe - maybe they didn’t understand, but they did believe.

And maybe that’s where we are too, not quite understanding what this Jesus dude does for us, but believing nevertheless………………..

Is that good enough?? Well, for some it has to be: belief and faith are a mystery - neither are founded on facts or knowledge - but what we feel to be true- it is more about using all of our senses: sight, touch, smell, hearing. We see Jesus in our fellow brothers and sisters (well maybe sometimes) we touch Him when we reach out to others or they to us, we smell the clean air and the flowers and the raw earth, the doggy (ok, or kitty!) smell of our favorite animal companion, or we hear the words of scripture or song lyrics that resonate with us somehow. Or maybe it’s the presence of a friend at just the right moment in time………….

Reflecting - we do it all the time, sometimes without even being conscience of it.. We are always evaluating and trying to figure things out. But until that ‘something’ is reflected back to us we can’t see it - like we can’t see our own faces unless they are reflected back to us in something shiny. We don’t see Jesus unless He is reflected back to us at the edge between sunlight dancing on the floor and shadows playing cat & mouse.