Humble Pie

     My husband and I leave each other messages on a dry erase board. The other day we had a day of teenage angst and moodiness in our home. I found this message from my husband when I returned from running errands. I said, "I like it; I am not sure what it means." Not being a man of mystery, he replied, "It means just what it says." He was referring to my ability to handle our teen. After a good night's sleep, I had gathered the stamina for a frank, but kind, talk with our son.
     The fact that I could inspire humility in anyone is clearly a God thing. Those of  you who know me, understand what I mean. I am all about harmony, but only up to a point. I have an underlying conviction that I know better. I lose my patience with foolishness and I have been known to hound the Almighty with my opinion of how things SHOULD be.
     Yet, the Lord has a habit of using people's weaknesses for his greater purpose. 2 Corinthians 12:9 reads: " My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness." The God of the universe is a God of contradictions. Noah was not keen on building the ark. Moses was one reluctant senior citizen when he led the Israelites out of Egypt. The Messiah took the form of a vulnerable baby born in a lowly setting.
     The Lord knows our weaknesses and our strengths. I know that one of my strengths is my love for my son. One of my weaknesses is impatience. With my son, I am more patient than I dreamed I could ever be. The context of love gives me the opportunity to work on my weakness.  It's a gift to practice patience with a dear one first, and then move outward to those unknown to me.

Isaiah 40:31 reminds me that:
 "He gives strength to the weary and increases the power of the weak. Even youths grow tired and weary and young men stumble and fall; but those who hope in the Lord will renew their strength. They will soar on wings like eagles; they will run and not grow weary, they will walk and not be faint."


     Any parenting success that I enjoy is born of grace. The very same God who grants me the grace I request, uses me to inspire and help others. I am not humble or patient and yet I am a vessel of these teachings. This astounds me. He is the God of contradictions and miracles. There are no small miracles. May you trust in His grace in the New Year.

What The Juggler Knew

     This is a wonderful time of year to catch old movies on TV. The other day I saw a short called "The Juggler of Our Lady." In the movie, a juggler, played by Boris Karloff, is saved from a severe snow storm by a group of French monks. The monks feed and shelter the visitor until the mountain pass is clear in the spring.

Painter Marc Chagall understood the beauty of juggling.

     During the winter, the monks spend their free time preparing gifts for the Blessed Mother. Some brothers carved candlesticks while others painted intricate icons. The juggler is touched and wants to give two of his beloved juggling pins as an offering. Some of the monks look down on the gift. The abbot kindly tells the juggler that they couldn't possibly accept the pins because they don't want to deny the man his livelihood.The abbot then invites the man to stay for the procession of the gifts before setting off on his journey. The juggler accepts.
     The festival day arrives and the camera shows a procession of gift bearing monks entering the chapel of our Lady. To their collective horror, the juggler is juggling in front of the Blessed Mother statue. Then suddenly, the abbot hits his knees and blesses himself. The statue has come alive and is reaching out benevolently to the juggler. The remaining monks kneel in awe.
     The juggler knew that we are all given different gifts. He knew he couldn't paint or carve or even sing. He knew that he could juggle and he juggled his best for the smiling Blessed Mother. In the movie Chariots of Fire, Eric Liddell says,"God Made me fast and when I run I feel His pleasure." When we are authentically ourselves, and not a copy of someone else, I do think it pleases the Lord.
     There have been times in my life when I've felt that I had nothing special to give. I don't think this is a failing on God's part. Rather I believe it to be smallness of vision and lack of gratitude on my part. Many times I have often taken my gifts for granted. I have wasted time coveting the gifts of others, rather than being grateful for my own.
     Every gift is equal in God's eyes: A fluffy biscuit, a soaring aria, the ability to bring laughter, a calming demeanor, a beautiful painting and yes, a superb juggler. It's not what we do, but what's in our hearts that makes all the difference. Oscar Wilde said, "Be yourself everyone else is taken." God specializes in variety and abundance. The holiday season is the perfect time to praise him with your best. He is worthy.

A Loan and A Perfect Gift

    "Your son is on the very seriously ill list," said the doctor. My son was born full term but with the umbilical cord wrapped around his neck. I sat up in bed the entire night. I watched the clock move from 12 midnight to 6 AM. I cried until my tears were gone and all I had left were gasps. How could God have me carry a my baby for 9 months only to lose him at birth? I turned this around in my mind all night. Around 4 AM, I had my answer: It was God's baby and he was on loan to me.

     The baby was gradually weaned off the respirator. When he was two weeks old, I held him for the first time. This early brush with death made every day of parenting a gift to me, even the rough ones. My son's birth and life have made me a better person and I am humbled by God's trust.
     As a mother, the Christmas season is a perfect time to meditate on the significance of the Christ child. The sacrifice of the firstborn is a recurring theme in the old testament. In Genesis 22 God instructs Abraham to sacrifice the life of his only son, Issac.  An angel stays his hand to prevent the sacrifice. In Exodus, the Israelites are spared when the first born sons of Egypt are struck down.
     In the New Testament, the Christ child parallels the old testament sacrifice of unblemished lambs. The only son of God is set apart as a sacrifice for all. I am stunned by the rich symbolism and reality, of sacrificing a first born son.
     At Christmas I remember Mary, the Blessed Mother. She was called by God and she said, "I am the Lord's servant (or handmaiden)". I am in awe of her enduring faith when I remember that she later witnessed her son's Crucifixion.
     Jesus lived as a man. He knew both joy and suffering. He was born in the most humble of circumstances; this was no accident because his kingdom is not of this world. His first guests were the shepherds and he IS the lamb of God. The wise men knew who he was because they were book smart AND heart wise.
     My son's birth changed my very ordinary life. Jesus' birth changed the very fabric of heaven and earth. Handel's Messiah states: "The kingdom of  this world is become the Kingdom of our Lord and of His Christ." The song "O Holy Night" says "He appeared and the soul felt its worth." May you feel your soul's worth this Christmas and be blessed by the light of His presence. Merry Christmas!

A Christmas Prayer

     My son wrote this prayer for me as a Christmas gift a few years ago.  I think it is a powerful and lovely prayer. A dear friend who is a theologian termed it "theologically robust." I hope that it blesses you as much as it has blessed me.

Mom's Christmas Prayer

     For I will not forsake his coming, for the Prince of Peace, Savior of the peoples has come to wash away my sin committed against thee. In Him, and in His trust, I will not question His forgiveness.
      He is the vessel of the people of God and in their trust, even unknowingly, He will save them from the void beyond. Let us acknowledge and put forth our understanding in his kindness and purity.

Give thanks, Amen

The Memory Keeper

     We all have gifts. One of mine is being very visual. When I was a little girl, I learned to spell by the shape of words, not by phonetics. Later in life I learned physiology by drawing pictures and flow charts. I illustrated my notes in nursing school to create mnemonics. I love puzzles and can find tiny details quickly. If something is lost, I can usually find it. If I meet someone I may forget their name but I don't forget their face. While all of these uses are quirky, and even useful, its my memory for events that makes me the family memory keeper.

      There have been times when my son and husband don't get along. My son will make a point of saying, "Dad did this or that and it made me angry." But as a memory keeper I can reply, "Yes, I get that you're annoyed but when you were a sick baby your Dad would sleep on the floor in your room just in case you needed him." That image comes right to the front of my mind when I think of my husband's goodness.

     When my husband says,"Teenagers are selfish," I agree, but I then I remember a time when my husband was deployed. I had an upset stomach and was laid out on the couch. My then 3 year old got a chair climbed on the kitchen counter and brought me ginger ale and crackers. I still remember asking him, "How did you do that?" "Got a chair," he said simply.

Consider how the lilies grow. (Luke 12:27)

      My paternal grandparents are long departed, but I remember their garden like I just left it. It was full of pear trees, pansies, tulips and the most gorgeous roses I have ever seen. It was the most glorious place for a child to play.  I filled a roasting pan with water and sailed a little boat. I was the happiest girl ever.
     Naturally a visual memory can be a burden too. I remember facial expressions, exchanges and events long after they are done. Herein lies the importance of framework. If I look at life as a work in progress, then the hurtful things don't have as much staying power. They are pieces of a mosaic, but not the whole work.

     The things we do while we're on earth matter. Each soul is here to improve and learn. The Lord is the the ultimate memory keeper and His memory is not colored by time or emotion. He will hold us accountable for unkind words spoken and kind deeds left undone. 

He calls his own sheep by name and leads them out. (Jn 10:3)

Addison Road's song "My Story" speaks to this:

There's just too many times I only think of me
Cause I get so consumed with my opportunities
When my last breath brings me to the feet of God
I want to hear him say I lived for his glory

Each day is a chance to improve on the the previous one. Blessings on your journey.

Those Who Ain't Afraid

     There's a line in the Joni Mitchell song, "A Case of You", that says "I'm frightened by the devil and I'm drawn to those ones that ain't afraid." I love this line. I think it really speaks to the value of community.  I draw strength from people who share my values.  For me these values are found at church, with military friends and with family. The people we associate with create our context.
     When you read something context is vital.  How much more vital is context when we live? When I attend church, I gather together with others who believe in something greater than themselves.  Worshiping together nourishes me for the week ahead.  Thinking about how to apply the scripture to my week makes the message, and my faith, relevant.

You can be the light or the mirror.

     My military friends share a bond of service and sacrifice.  Time spent away from our country and family draws us closer than some blood relatives. The will to do difficult things in the service of others is a common thread.  There is an understanding that the job is more than just a job.
     Family is where you start. As you get older, family becomes bigger as you add those friends who really are family too.  If we're lucky we can think of friends and family for whom we would drop everything. There is an unspoken bond, a reciprocity of  heart.
     When I look at the world it's easy to dwell on the negative.  There is strife, hunger and violence and these are real. But goodness is also real.  I believe we have a choice.  Edith Wharton said, "There are two ways of spreading light: Be the candle or the mirror that reflects it."  This holiday season I challenge you to think about ways to  improve your own community. Each soul brings its own unique light. 

A Levitating Pear

     The existence of darkness is a classic theological and philosophical question.  I don't pretend to know the answer, but the other day I had an insight while looking at a drawing. I drew the picture below about 14 years ago.  My teacher unkindly, though accurately, titled it :"Levitating Pear". I dislike this picture and wanted to throw it away, but another student encouraged me to keep it and frame it so I could see where I started.
     The drawing is informative on several levels. There is a lack of gray scale or shading, thus the "levitating pear". The colors are not blended. The pear, in particular, would have benefited from a more delicate hand and a hearty spectrum of green yellows and yellow browns. The part I admire is the inner rim of the bowl where I've made an attempt to create some depth with shadow.

Levitating Pear

Portrait of Son

     The second drawing was done 9 years after the bowl of fruit. This portrait has depth.  A judicious use of shadow makes the hair stand up and gives the highlights movement. A careful use of shading enables the neck to hold the head in space and a delicate use of shadow and negative space allows the glasses to perch on the carefully shaded nose.  Using shadow makes a work more dimensional and captivating. It occurs to me, our souls are very much like art.
     If we are honest, we know that there is darkness and light in each of us.  Cultures the world over concede this.  There is the yin and yang of Chinese culture:  A black swirl fitted perfectly into a white one. Popular fiction echoes this duality too: the good side of the Force in Star Wars, the Lion in the works of C.S. Lewis. The concepts are not new, but they bear fresh examination.
     In art, darkness brings out the light. For me, light is the primary value.  Without light, there can never be color or nuance. It is much the same with our souls. It is how we deal with darkness that makes all the difference. Our own darkness can simply feed itself or spurn us to compassion and forgiveness. Light and love lead us to a higher self that we did not know before. Light brings a beauty and color that selfishness can never deliver.
     This time of year is dark in the mountains, but when the sun shines on the snow, it is like standing on a carpet of sparkly stars. Advent is a season of hope in a world that is sometimes quite dark. "This is the message we have heard and declare to you: God is light; in him there is no darkness at all." (1 John: 5) Isiah 64:8 states that "we are the clay, you are the potter; we are the work of your hand." If God is the Great Artist, and He is Light, surely he can make a beautiful creation out of even our most tragic shortcomings? He can use our very darkness to highlight the good in us and in others.
     When I look at "Levitating Pear" I want to laugh or weep.  When I look at the portrait of my son, I see potential. I believe that a loving God knows our potential from the beginning. I can only hope that I make him laugh more often than I make him weep.
     

Elk Are People Too

      Winter has come to the wilds of Utah. It was 4 F this bright morning.  Physics lab for my young lad begins at 6:45 AM, an unholy hour by most definitions.  We departed at 6:15 AM so my friend could practice his driving.  Excellent.  Nothing is quite as bracing as driving in the snow with your teenager. Once he was safely ensconced in physics lab, I made my way back home.  Much to my delight, the elk herd were munching away in a nearby field.  These creatures got me thinking. Elk have a lot in common with people.

Kindred spirits do improve the journey.

     Elk like to be with those who are like them.  They have horns and can get stuck on things.  They like to feel safe and run when threatened.  Most importantly, they have a majestic beauty all their own. Each elk has a slightly different coloration and antler pattern. People share all these characteristics.  We enjoy the company of those who are like us.  We fixate on problems and get stuck. We look for safe situations and are often afraid of straying from our safety zone. Finally, each soul reflects God's beauty in different ways.

Stepping out from the herd can be scary.

      Following Christ requires stepping out of the herd.  He calls us to uncomfortable places, geographically and emotionally.We are called to see beneath a prickly surface and see the soul beauty in others. It is very easy to love those like ourselves.  Yet Jesus challenges us: "If you love those who love you, what reward will you get? Are not even the tax collectors doing that? and if you greet only your brothers, what are you doing more than others?" (Matthew:46-47)
     Christ's call is fresh for me each day. Impatience and judgement sneak up on me regularly. But we are here to grow, not to be perfect. I am encouraged by 2 Corinthians:12 "My grace is sufficient for you, my power is made perfect in weakness." I wish you a thoughtful Advent and blessings on your journey.

The herd is comfortable and gives you strength.

The Light on the Porch

     It was -14 F this morning. Though it was painfully cold and painfully early, I set out to ferry my son to AP Physics lab. I stepped into the crunchy, snow laden yard and I realized I was not alone. I heard the noise of hoofs and the squeak of calls. I heard branches bending and I heard snouts snuffling. Deer?  The light from the porch gave me just enough back light to peer into the darkness.  Elk. Big elk. A large group of very big elk on my driveway!  I pushed the automatic opener on the barn door; they were spooked and trotted across the road.

God saw that the light was good and he separated the light from darkness.

     I have been studying the book of Exodus and it actually ties in nicely with my frosty wildlife experience.  God set many a plague upon Egypt. He punished the Egyptians to illustrate His power and dominion.  He spared the Israelites to show His faithfulness. The Lord made the Nile turn to blood, he sent frogs, locusts, revolting boils, razor sharp hail, unrelenting gnats, gruesome livestock diseases, darkness and the death of  firstborn Egyptian sons. While the scope of these plagues is impressive, there is one that stands out to me: darkness.
     I am struck by the sheer power of the metaphor. For me darkness symbolizes a world without the light and presence of God. True, the other plagues are full of physical agony, but a world without light is a world without hope. In Genesis the first day of creation is all about light.  Genesis 1:1-4  reads: "Now the earth was formless and empty, darkness was over the surface of the deep, and the Spirit of God was hovering over the waters.  And God said, let there be light and there was light. God saw that the light was good and he separated the light from darkness."
     In the book of Exodus,  the plague of darkness precedes the deaths of the first born Egyptians. There is a parallel of darkness at the crucifixion, "from the sixth hour to the ninth hour darkness came over all the land." This darkness and, the accompanying earthquakes, terrified onlookers and caused them to exclaim," Surely he was the Son of God.". Jesus himself said, " I am the light of the world.Whoever follows me will never walk in darkness, but will have the light of life." (John 8:12)
     When I stepped out into the cold, darkness this morning, I faced an unknown presence in the yard. But the porch light glowed softly right behind my back and I could see what I needed to see.  I wasn't afraid and in that moment, God whispered into my heart: "I have your back. I AM the light. I am faithful and I will equip you for unemployment, motherhood and yes, even elk." Sometimes a whisper is more convincing than a shout.  May you walk in the Light.

Thanksgiving at Taco Bell

     My church, Mountain Life, has been looking at the book of Philippians. The series is entitled: "Big Picture Living".  This week was about "Living Strong in His Strength."  In the reading Paul notes the he has known both plenty and lack in his life. (Philippians 4:12)  Pastor Scott Fine challenged the congregation to think about contentment in this advent season.  It got me thinking about a day when my son was only three years old.
     We had just moved back to Virginia from Japan. We were having lunch at Taco Bell. My son had eaten and was fast asleep on my lap. I was nibbling on my burrito and chatting with my husband. I looked down at my son. He was so peaceful and beautiful.  My heart simply could not hold more love. In that moment I knew that I understood contentment. I was fed, warm and surrounded by my little family.  I have revisited that moment many times over the years, especially when my wants try to take precedence over my true needs.
      I have returned to my "Taco Bell" moment several times since my husband got laid off. It reminds me that I am just as content now as I was that day.  All of us are healthy. We have shelter, water, food and warm clothes.(Thank you Jesus, because it was 16 F this morning!)  Most importantly, I have my little family.

Hanging out with my boys.

They mean more than anything else and I am deeply grateful.
     So this Thanksgiving I am focusing on abundance. My needs are met and my life is overflowing with friends and family that love me for who I am.   I am thankful for these gifts and for "Taco Bell" moments that remind me of what really matters.

Friends Are True Wealth

A Message from the Heart.

     I recently traveled back east to visit some very dear friends.  When I returned, I found the above message from my husband.  Like many people, we are keeping a sharp eye on our budget. Yet, we decided that going to see my friends was worthy of cuts elsewhere. The return on my trip was immeasurable.
      I did not sight see.  I visited.  I sat and drank warm beverages and chatted. I ate and I slept. I was refreshed by the company of those I know well.  There is a deep peace in being accepted and understood; this is often found in the company of dear friends.  New clothes, phones, jewelry and "stuff" will eventually break or go out of style. Memories of my trip continue to delight me and the connections with my friends will never go out of style.  As Plautus noted: "Where there are friends, there is wealth." 

Thoughts on Tree Trimming

Seriously, my husband loves that new chainsaw.

      My husband is trimming trees in anticipation of the snow.  The last thing we need is a snow laden branch crashing onto the new roof. My job is to tidy up all the branches. We plan to coordinate a debris burn with the local fire department. All this trimming and hauling got me thinking about the organic metaphors in John 15.
     John 15:1-2 states, " I am the true vine and my Father is the gardener.  He cuts off every branch in me that bears no fruit, while every branch that does bear fruit he prunes."  When I read this my first thought is:  I feel pruned enough, can we stop now?  The last year and half have literally brought me to my knees.  I am ready to do whatever God wants.  So,  I am hoping I can move onto verse 7:   "If you remain in me and my words remain in you, ask whatever you wish, and it will be given you."  Because Lord, I am not even asking for a job for my husband anymore.  I am praying for his highest spiritual good and whatever will serve your purpose. Amen.
    The branch pile is big.  Sweet Jesus, I hope I don't have that much debris in my soul...I don't have enough lifetime left to clear it! I do like the metaphor of clearing out though.  If we clear out the dead wood maybe we leave room for the Holy Spirit to create something new and beautiful.  I can't be sure, but that's my metaphor for today. Peace to you.

John 15:6: "If anyone does not remain in me, he is like a branch that is thrown away and withers."

Ninja Mom and The Very Steep Hill

     I live in the mountains of Utah.  My neighborhood is at about 6500 feet above sea level.  This is excellent news for future road races out of state.  Until that time, my hilly running route serves to fortify my heart and challenge my ideas of what is possible.  "The Hill of Death"  is a centerpiece of my training.

"The Hill Of Death" looking up

     I baptized the hill, The Hill of Death, due to its incredible, icy winter nature. If that hill is icy in just the right way you are going through the intersection whether you want to or not.  It takes some fancy winter driving to stay out of the adjacent field. As it happens, the challenges of driving the hill pale compared to running it.

Easy on the downhill, you can end up in the field below!

     When I run this hill, I become prayerful.  Neighbors are apt to hear phrases like, "Lord have mercy" and "Holy God!" springing from my parched lips. On the inside I am uttering words that would make a sailor blush. So if you see me running, please do not confuse desperation with holiness! This morning when I ran the hill, I started thinking about difficulties in our lives.  Oftentimes, when things are good, I forget to be grateful.  But when things are tough, I become one prayerful gal.
     Suffering is the classic theological question.  How can a good God let his people suffer?  How can good people forget to say thank you?  Challenges make me realize I need help.  Whether it's the "Hill of Death", a health crisis or a family problem, hard times remind me of what's important.
     Do I welcome challenge and suffering?  Hardly. I am not that spiritually evolved. However, I am more aware of the many graces and gifts that come my way.  So I say this: Take on the Hill.  It's okay to swear a little, but hold fast to prayer. Maybe the prayers of our desperate times will become the habits of our lifetimes. 

Snowy Running and Surprise Gifts

     This morning I did my 5 mile run.  It was windy and snowy.  Did I mention it was snowy? As I ran, or rather jogged along, a flurry of thoughts passed through my brain. Surprisingly, not all of my thoughts were weather related. It occurred to me that running is very much like life.

Being swift is good, but Ninjas must also be persistent.

      Ecclesiastes 9:11 reads, " The race is not to the swift."  Excellent news as my sprint would be considered another's jog or walk.  Here, I am talking about running but also spiritual progress.  It takes me a long time to learn a lesson.  In fact, I have encountered the same circumstances many a time before changing my stubborn ways, but God is persistent. Psalm 97:10 reminds me, "for he guards the lives of his faithful ones."  Notice here, it does not say perfect or swift; it says faithful.
     As the snow blew in my face, I thought about the difficulties that come up in all our lives.  Job loss, illness, separation and discord are scattered across our paths.  When these things happen, where does help come from? "I lift my eyes to the hills-where does my help come from? My help comes from the LORD, the maker of  heaven and earth. He will not let your foot slip; he who watches over you will not slumber;"  (Psalm 121:1-3) If I really integrate this belief into my being, I will not have cause for anxiety.  The LORD does not sleep and He watches over me.  However, this does NOT mean we will be free from suffering and trials.
      In fact in James 1:2-4 we learn that God sees trials as purposeful.  "Consider it a pure joy, my brothers, whenever you face trials of many kinds, because you know that the testing of your faith develops perseverance. Perseverance must finish its work so that you may be mature and complete, not -lacking anything." If I am honest, I would tell you that I have learned more over the last year and a half than I have in any other time in my life. So much in fact, that I now see my challenges as teachers. Believe me, I would not have said this before. I now understand some of the things that God has been working on all along.
     When you run a half marathon, you have to do the training to be successful. Spirit training demands the same diligence.  As I shuffled up the big hill (twice) today, I thought about the last year.  My challenges are like that steep, imposing hill, painful to go through, but great when you get to the top. Isaiah 40:31 offers encouragement: "But those who hope in the LORD will renew their strength. They will soar on wings like eagles; they will run but not grow weary, they will walk and not be faint."
     I believe this is true and I am glad that His blessing also covers walking.  I may be doing some walking during my half-marathon, but I am grateful for good health. A year ago I could not walk a mile without sitting down.  1 Corinthians 12:4 says, there are different gifts but the same spirit.  Who knows, maybe one of my gifts is perseverance? Be blessed.

Hiking a Middle Rainbow

     The air was misty. I stepped onto the porch and started walking to my car.  The I saw my second rainbow of late. I could see the ends, but the middle was buried in the clouds. I longed to see the middle of the rainbow, just as I long to see God's plan for me.  Addison Road's song, "Change in the Making" really speaks to my current situation:
                                                 This is redemption's story
                                                 With every step that I'm taking
                                                 Everyday you're chipping away
                                                 What I don't need
                                                 This is me under construction
                                                 This is my pride being broken
                                                 And everyday I'm closer to who I'm meant to be
                                                  I'm a change in the making

Ready to hike?  Let's go!

  Genesis 9:12-13 reads :  And God said, "This is a sign of the covenant I am making between me and you and every living creature with you, a covenant for all generations to come:  I have set my rainbow in the clouds, and it will be the sign of the covenant between me and the earth." Our God is the Majestic Creator of the galaxies, the planets and the spectacular beauty of nature. He is also our faithful, personal God.  I have a sneaking suspicion that the miraculous is more common than we believe.   I am hiking a challenging path.  It's steep in parts, but it does have breathtaking views.  My backpack has tissues, lip balm, water, snacks and a photo of my son. There's something rolling around in the bottom. It's round. It's tiny. It's my faith, the size of  a mustard seed.  It may be my most fragile, most important asset.  Tolkien wrote: "Not all who wander are lost."  Carry on.

Don't forget to bring the  faith.

Unexpected Rainbows

   I got up early this morning.  I had coffee with my husband before his job interview.  When he departed, I decided to get out and do my 4 mile run.
    It was a cool 57 F with a thick blanket of fog shrouding the mountains.  I began walking to warm up.  The road was clear but the fog hung like heavy fabric over the nearby meadow. Hmm, I wondered, does the fog cover the mountains?  I stopped and looked up.  I gasped.  A stunning sight was right in front of me:   The fog cradled the bottom of the mountain range and a complete, vibrant rainbow pierced the fog and arched over the neighborhood.   I have never seen such a vivid rainbow.
     The last year has been rife with challenges.  For reasons unknown to me, the rainbow springing from the fog encouraged me.  My husband did not get the job, but I know God is faithful.  Maybe it wasn't the right job for him.  I didn't pray that he would get the job.  I prayed for his highest good and for whatever was best for our family.
     Rainbows occur when water droplets refract sunlight into component colors.  A water drop acts like a prism.   So without some rain, or at least moisture, there is no rainbow.  The difficulty of the last year has yielded unexpected rainbows.  It has given me the opportunity to show my husband how much I love him and believe in him.  My husband has spent a lot of quality time with our son.  To love in hard times is to love truly and deeply.  We have spent more time as a family this thrifty year.  We watch movies at home, play board games,  do projects and laugh a lot.   Water droplets may be prisms for beautiful rainbows, but challenges can be prisms for real love.  I am grateful.
   

I lift my eyes to the hills, where does my help come from?  My help comes from the Lord, the Maker of  heaven and earth.
 (Psalm 121)

     

A Change of Heart

     " I am never coming here again," I informed my husband.  We were visiting relatives for the holidays.  I overheard some angry, alcohol infused comments about our visit.  In that moment, I was full of anger for myself and hurt for my husband.  Righteous anger becomes almost delicious; you are hurt and you feed your anger to keep it alive.  Unfortunately, I am an expert on delicious anger.  I managed to maintain my no visit policy for 5 years.  Then something changed my heart:  My love for my son.

My son makes me want to be a better person

    My attachment to anger kept my son from his extended family.   Proverbs 10:12 states, "Hatred stirs up dissension, but love covers over all wrongs."  There are no Biblical pronouncements that encourage nurturing your anger or holding grudges.  On the contrary, Christ himself spoke at length on the topic of loving your enemies.  A recent reading of Luke  6:32 addressed me directly:  "If you love those who love you, what credit is that to you? Even 'sinners' love those who love them."  Ouch!  Following Jesus is much easier to chat about and write about than to carry out.  I agreed to a visit but with some parameters for success.

     First, our visit would be a short 4 days.  When we left,  folks would still be glad we came. Next, we would stay with different family this time.  We would be close enough to visit folks, but we could take a break if needed.  Finally, we drove our own car so we would not impose on anyone and could depart when we liked.  With theses parameters in place, we were set for a successful visit and that is exactly what happened.

     When we arrived, family ran to greet us.   They were so happy to see us.  I felt some ice slip off my heart.  My son had long conversations with his grandfather.  He played games with his favorite cousin.  His grandma cooked for him; he ate like a king.  His uncle told him police stories.  I read my book and  made polite conversation.  I learned that anger, even justified anger, can be selfish.  I want my son to make family connections.  I want him to know that none of us is perfect, but that we can love perfectly. 

     Following God's will is uncomfortable.  It brings me face to face with parts of myself that I would rather hide.  The success of this visit had nothing to do with my strength and everything to do with my weakness.  If His power is made perfect in my weakness, then my weakness is a welcome  gift.  I prayed for grace before and during our trip.  My prayers were answered ten times over.  As I listened to my mother-in-law talk about reconciliation with her long estranged sister, my heart completely softened.  I was truly glad for them. 

     When the New Testament talks of treasure, it specifically addresses money and worldly goods.  Treasure is also the riches of your heart.  I wanted to nourish my hurt, harden my heart and not participate in any type of healing.  God had other plans.   When we were leaving, my mother-in-law said, " Thank you for coming back."  Those words were a balm to my soul.  I am grateful that my love for my son pulled me out of myself and into a new space.  Now,  I could  receive her words and open my heart.

     

Even Hummingbirds Meditate

     Hummingbirds have very high metabolisms and are incredible flyers.  To stoke their super metabolisms, they eat often.  Their diet consists of  insects and nectar.  These behaviors are easily seen by the casual observer, but the hummingbirds ability to slow its metabolism at rest, torpor, is their best kept secret.
     According to World of Hummingbirds.com,http://www.worldofhummingbirds.com/sleep.php, the hummingbird finds a comfortable roost and commences a type of hibernation.  The bird can lower its metabolism to 1/15 of normal.  An active hummingbird's heart can beat as much as 1200 times per minute.  By contrast, in torpor the little bird lowers its heart rate to around 50 beats per minute.   Breathing slows dramatically as well.  In this way, hummingbirds are able to achieve the deep restoration that they need for survival.  Hummingbirds enter torpor because of their survival instinct,  but humans can choose to enter a meditative state at any time.
      The benefits of  a regular meditation practice are cumulative, but meditation can also be used as an on the spot tool.  This morning I had routine outpatient surgery; I used 20 minutes of meditation to still my mind and calm my pulse rate. It works.
     The web site, I Need Motivation, lists 100 physiological and psychological benefits of meditation.  Some physiological benefits include:  1) lower oxygen consumption 2) decreased respiratory rate 3) increased blood flow and slowed heart rate 4) reduction in anxiety due to lower levels of blood lactate and 5) improved immunity.  If you would like a more formal, informative article on various methods of meditation and how to begin, check this Mayo clinic link: http://www.mayoclinic.com/health/meditation/HQ01070/NSECTIONGROUP=2  Finally, The American Mind and Body Institute in Boston has done scholarly and trailblazing research into meditation for 40 years.  Recent work has used the MRI to view the physiological changes that occur during meditation.  You can review a plethora of information at http://www.massgeneral.org/search.aspx?q=mri+meditation&st=0&x=24&y=16.
    Meditation has psychological, physiological and even spiritual benefits.  An unknown author once said,  "Prayer is talking to God, while meditation is listening."   Everyone can benefit from a little more listening.  Be blessed.
   
    .  

God Spoke To Me In Walmart

Faith the size of one mustard seed is enough

     I am worried about money.  I try not to think about it, but when I do, well, I can become quite distraught.  Today I went to Walmart in this anxious frame of mind.
     I got a few things.  Yogurt, fruit and the like. Oh and a few birthday cards.  It's close to payday and I just wanted to use the cash I had in my purse.  The cashier rang up my items.  The total? $66.59.  I looked in my purse and counted out my bills and change.  I had $66.59 exactly.  That's when I  "heard" a message just for me:   My worry is not productive.  "Who of you by worrying can add a single hour to his life?" (Matthew 6:27)  Over the last year, I have tried tell God how my life should be and what I need.  Here's a shocker:  He already knows.
      What does God need from me?  God needs me to be a good steward of the talent and treasure he has given me.  He would like to see me walk on faith.  It does not even have to be a steady or lovely walk.  When it comes to faith walking,  I am hoping there are merit points for starting at all.  God knows that I have gotten off the path, sat down on the path, asked for a new path and had unsightly fits on the path.  Yet, if what we read about the Almighty is true, "He is faithful and just and will forgive us our sins...." (1 John:9)
       So I am counting on Psalm 40:  "I waited patiently for the Lord; he turned to me and heard my cry.  He lifted me out of the slimy pit, out of the mud and mire; he set my feet on a rock and gave me a firm place to stand."  So I am going to stand on the rock and clutch my mustard seed of faith.  I believe that's just enough.  Join me?

Father's Day: What the Heart Can Carry

    It was an unusually cool summer morning in Georgia. The air was not humid and there was even a breeze.  I going to travel from Columbus to Atlanta to spend the weekend with my family, but the phone rang and my world changed.  My Dad had a massive heart attack while playing tennis.  His friends tried to revive him, but he was already gone.  Nine years have passed, but when I think of that morning, I still cry.  Arguments may be temporary, but death is permanent and unyielding.  Whatever your relationship is at the moment of death, that's how it stays.  There is no chance to be compassionate, no chance to be the bigger person and no chance to say, "I love you."   When I reflect on Father's Day, I see three different stages in my relationship to my Dad:  idealistic, critical and compassionate.
     The idealistic phase is probably my favorite.  In the photo below, I am in the beginning of this phase.  My Dad was bigger and stronger than me.  He was funny and made me laugh a lot.  This perception lasted well into grade school.

My hair still looks like this in the morning.

      As I got older, I saw my Dad's flaws.  He drank too much.  He could be selfish and lazy.  As I approached middle school and high school, I lost sight of his  kindness and humor.  I focused only on his inadequacies.  This stage lasted well into adulthood.  I was disappointed.  He was not the father I wanted him to be. 
     In my early forties, I got a tip from one of my sisters.  She said that praying for Dad helped her.  I felt the rightness of this in my heart.  I began praying for him and actively being patient.  Guess what?  These simple steps made a difference. I began to see him with more compassion and less judgement.   The very week before he died, my son and I went out to dinner with Dad.  We had a lovely time and I remember seeing Dad as vulnerable person needing love rather than a disappointing Dad.
    People are imperfect, but their love for us is often perfect and pure.  Our loved ones may not express their love in ways that make sense to us.  They love us as they are.  God loves us even though He knows all about us.  We can at least try to love others despite our own imperfections, and theirs.  It was a long road from idealism to compassion, but the journey was so worthy.  When I was little, my Dad held me safe against his heart.  Today, I carry his goodness and humor in MY heart. 
          

Just Like a Geranium

    It's spring in the mountains of Utah.  Yesterday I spent the afternoon planting flowers.  It was 79 F,  sunny,  and heavenly.   Spring and summer are God's gifts for weathering the winter months.   No more shoveling, no more scraping and no more warming up the car.  It was time for a change and I am grateful.
     I have some window boxes along the side of the house.  I decided to fill them with geraniums.  Geraniums are fairly hardy and can weather the cool evenings.  I chose white, coral and light pink.  Before I transferred the flowers, I pulled the dead blooms and leaves off.  When you pull the dead bits off, the water and nutrition is channeled to the core of the plant; the plant is healthier and more vibrant.  I planted them and gave them some transplant food.  It was peaceful sitting in the grass working with the flowers.  When the trees rustled in the breeze, it reminded me of the talking trees in C.S. Lewis' Narnia.  I always feel closer to God when I'm outside in nature.  I began thinking about the ways He has trimmed my dead leaves and helped me grow this year.

I am no different than my geraniums

Freshly trimmed and planted geraniums

     In John 15, Jesus says, "I am the true vine and my Father is the Gardener.  He cuts off every branch in me that bears no fruit, while every branch that does bear fruit he prunes so that it will be even more fruitful."  This year has been one of  rigorous pruning.  Instead of having extra, we have learned to cut back and live on my husband's pension.  Though difficult to admit, I was in serious need of a pruning in the area of material goods and money.  Many things I thought I "needed" were merely things I wanted.
      The Lord meets us where we are.  He gives us the right challenges at the perfect time.  In areas where I was already strong, I became even more so.  I seemed to have more patience for my teenager than I ever thought possible.  The "fruit" I bore in this area increased tenfold in my son's growing independence and kindness.  My heart overflows with gratitude for God's grace.   Psalms 119: 105 reminds me " Your word is a lamp to my feet and a light for my path."  I am pruned and back on my path.   Be blessed.  

Love Thy Neighbor or At Least Wave

     Apparently I have offended the neighbors.  They tell my husband that they wave at me all the time and that I never wave back.  Yikes!  I have never seen them wave.  I in no way meant any disrespect or rudeness.  This last year has found me consumed by a personal vortex of unemployment, seasonal employment and teenage angst.  I have used every ounce of strength and creativity that God gave me to remain operational.  Honestly, there have been days where I looked down and was surprised that I had clothes on; I simply didn't remember that part of the day.
     While it pains me to realize that people feel snubbed, I do not feel compelled to explain myself or my circumstances.  In today's world of reality television, people are voyeurs of others' pain, heartache and troubles.  Nonsense.  I'll use tissues for my issues and keep my life private, thank you.  Happily, there's a lesson in this little drama.

Don't be like me.  Stop and smell the flowers, and pay attention to your surroundings.

     Henceforth, when a friend doesn't return my call immediately or respond in a way that I deem appropriate, I will step back and say, " Hmm. Maybe they have stuff going on or are distracted."  I will be more mindful that everything is not about me.  It's a beautiful day in the neighborhood and I do love my neighbors, but for pity's sake, I'm just human.  Please cut me some slack.

Spring is lovely in Silver Creek

A Hat, A Purse and An Attitude

    My sister sent me this photo.  From the left, it's my cousin Regina, yours truly and my Aunt Adria.  It's the mid 1960s and we are going to church.  There was a time when every proper woman, no matter how small, wore a hat to church.  My Mom wore a gorgeous lace mantilla to Mass.  I had a lace tortilla thing that I wore when I was school aged.  Though the fashion is captivating, it's my attitude in the photo that caught my eye.
     Regina is rubbing her shoe on the sidewalk, doing what she pleases.  Adria is posed perfectly and looks great.   Me?  I am fulfilling the requirement, but openly hostile.  I am not smiling. My gaze is out of the photo, not trained on the photographer.  My facial expression makes me laugh more than the little purse.  ( What does a  three year old carry in her purse anyway?)  My expression says "I am barely tolerating this nonsense and pretty soon somebody is gonna get their butt kicked."  I am no different today, except that I have learned to hide my distaste under a veneer of civility.  It doesn't mean I have become more patient.  It doesn't mean I have become more kind.  It simply means that I've learned to get along in society.  But there's a bigger revelation:  God has known me all along.
      He knows where I started.  He knows my attitude.  Heck, he even knew there was nothing in that little pocketbook!   He also knew there was some goodness in my heart.  He took my weaknesses and  molded them into strengths for the good of others and myself.  He took that sassy attitude and poured it into advocacy for mental health.  His grace channeled my selfishness away from my own desires to the greater good of a constantly moving military family.  To this day, my absolute stubbornness (along with a generous serving of grace) sustains  me through illness and uncertainty.  This is no small feat.
     Isaiah 64:8  reads "We are the clay, you are the potter; we are all the work of your hand."  Upon reflection, I see that God uses our very weakness to make something beautiful.  As the Lord said to Paul  "My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness."   For my part, sometimes I feel that the Lord has a wealth of material in me.  Maybe that's not as damning as it sounds. It means he can use my weakness for His greater purpose.   We are all works in progress.  An imperfection in the glaze doesn't make us useless.  It makes us wonderfully human.  Be you and be grateful.
    

The Spirit and the Deer

A favorite napping spot.

      My first summer in the mountains was a beautiful one.  Wild flowers filled the pasture and the weather was perfect, 70F in the day and 50 F at night.  Sometimes when I was home alone, I felt like there was somebody nearby.  There was.  Two mule deer came and napped under the trees for four or five hours every day.  They were so gentle, beautiful  and quiet.  I simply enjoyed their presence.  Since this Sunday is Pentecost,  the Feast of the Holy Spirit, I realized some parallels with my deer friends.
      Since we have the gift of the Holy Spirit, we are never really alone. When we are prompted to good works, despite our ego, that's the Holy Spirit. When we are struck by natural beauty, that's the Holy Spirit.  Just because we don't see the Holy Spirit doesn't me he isn't with us.  When my deer visited, I felt their presence before I saw them.  With the Holy Spirit we doesn't see with our eyes, but we can feel it in our hearts.
     In John 14: 17-18 Jesus speaks of the Holy Spirit, "The world cannot accept him, because it neither sees him or knows him. But you know him, for he lives with you and will be in you."  I will not leave you orphans; I will come to you."    I believe this and yet, I often forget it.   I would like to be quiet and rest in Jesus' assurance like the deer rest in my meadow.  The gifts of salvation and presence are already given.  My part is to be a grateful and attentive recipient.  Peace to you.

 

Summer visitors

The Great Tattoo Artist

     I recently saw a program called "America's Worst Tattoos".  The show was about people with horrible tattoos who hope to cover up or create something beautiful from them.  The featured artists were truly gifted and were able to turn sad ink into beauty.  One artist took a wretched, red merman with unintended breasts and turned him into a gorgeous, bejeweled circus elephant.  The art work was stunning.  This got me thinking about the wonders that God can create even when we present him with a mess.
    Ephesians 2:10 it states,"For we are God's masterpiece.  He has created us anew in Christ Jesus, so we can do the good things He planned for us long ago."  We are each given gifts and free will. Even when we squander our gifts, or don't use them at all, God waits patiently to help us craft our highest self.  This is not a rushed God.  We may use our free will even to our great detriment.

Becky's Angel

     When I sit down at the easel, I have a general idea of what I am going to paint.  However, sometimes I change my idea or approach while working.  I love this part of the process.  I enjoy intuitive painting.  When I paint this way, the end product is often better than anything I had planned.   God already holds the pattern of your highest good.  For your learning and growth, the pattern is not revealed at once.  The colors and textures develop slowly.  New color combinations and their complimentary shades evolve over time.  It seems we can't get to the fullest expression of ourselves without the detours and missteps.  But just as the merman underpins the magnificent elephant, so our mistakes underpin our true nature.  It's a journey.  Be gentle with yourself.

Bright Spirit

     

Intersecting Truth: Christianity and Buddhism

     I am the product of a Jesuit education and I took Buddhism as one of my theologies.  I have never been afraid of, or been threatened by, other religions.  If anything, studying other religions has confirmed my belief in a Creator or Great Spirit.  There seems to be something greater than ourselves that, despite cultural differences, we are always trying to explain.  There seems to be a sense that this plane of existence is not all there is.  My recent reading has revealed some commonalities between St Ignatius and Buddhism.
      I am fully aware of the differences in theses religions.  Buddhism does not maintain a belief in a Creator and sees this life as a chance to improve and escape endless reincarnation.  Christianity is anchored by the belief in a Creator, the Savior, the Holy Spirit and life everlasting.  Yet, I see parallels in the areas of  detachment/non-attachment and meditation.
     Buddhism holds four Noble Truths:  1) Life means suffering 2) The origin of suffering is attachment 3) The cessation of suffering is attainable and 4) The path to the cessation of suffering.  Here, I am the most interested in the second truth, attachment.  In Buddhism, one can become attached to possessions, people, even ideas and outcomes. By following the Eightfold path (right view, right intention, right speech, right action, right livelihood, right effort, right mindfulness and right concentration)  the individual chooses the middle way between excess and asceticism.  He improves himself and is eventually  free from reincarnation.   Though most Christians do not believe in reincarnation,  the spiritual exercises of St Ignatius encourage reflection, realignment and self-improvement.
      St Ignatius also counseled people to be detached.  In his book, The Jesuit Guide to (Almost ) Everything"  Father James Martin describes "disordered affection" as something that  is "not ordered toward something life-giving."   Father Martin further states that Ignatius would encourage detachment to facilitate freedom and happiness.  Father writes that "  if this sounds surprisingly Buddhist, it is: that particular goal has long been a part of many spiritual traditions."  If we do not cling to our own preconceived notions and plans, we are more open to God's will at work in our lives.

     Meditation is a radical notion in our tech savvy, tech saturated world.  Hinduism and Buddhism both acknowledge the importance of quieting the mind and going within.  In fact, yoga is the physical preparation for being able to sit in meditation for extended periods.  The goal of Buddhist meditation is to strip away delusions and attachments.  In turn, Saint Ignatius invites believers to contemplate  the events of Christ's life.  When we are still, we are open to insight and to God's voice.  1 Kings tells us that  Elijah witnessed a powerful wind, an earthquake, and a fire.  But the Lord was in none of these. The Lord came in a still, small voice.  Time in meditation is time spent listening for that very voice. So whatever your path, take time to meditate.  Contemplation imparts peace and reveals priorities.  Be bold and be still.

       
    

Faith is Like a Mustard Seed

The humble mustard seed is indeed small.

     I just finished reading"He Leadeth Me" by Fr. Walter J. Ciszek, SJ;  This book is at once humbling and inspiring.  Father Ciszek details his 23 year tenure as a prisoner in the former Soviet Union.  Most importantly, this book is an honest telling of his interior, spiritual journey.

Calling all angels:   I need support!

     Father Walter spent his first 5 years in the dreaded prison, Lubianka.  In Lubianka, he came face to face  with heart wrenching loneliness.  His description of solitary confinement  is only surpassed by his searing telling of  his own brokenness and final reliance on God alone.   When he realizes that he has been trying to manage his interrogations, he has a breakthrough.  He writes, " God's will was not hidden somewhere "out there" in situations in which I found myself; the situations themselves WERE his will for me.  What he wanted was for me to accept these situations as from his hands, to let go of the reins and place myself entirely at his disposal."   I am awestruck by this realization and the context in which it crystallized.  Father was pushed to the edge and he sought the Heavenly Father.  Can I seriously do less in my life?  I should hope not.
     Father's comments on humility are especially meaningful.  He defines humility as the "realization of one's place before God."  In this light our burdens are the will of God entrusted to us at any given moment.  These words struck me in a deep and timely way.   Mental health issues with my son are not merely burdens set out to break me.  They are challenges that will lead my growth.  Many times I have joked that " God doesn't call the qualified; He qualifies the called."  This is certainly true in my case.
       Christ assures us in Matthew 17:20 "If you have faith as small as a mustard seed, you can say to this mountain 'move from here to there' and it will move.  Nothing will be impossible for you."  The Lord anticipated our weakness and offers us encouragement.  Perhaps, my problem has not been my burdens.  Maybe it has been self reliance.  Father Ciszek hoped his book would encourage others.  It has.  Thank you, Father.

You can buy mustard seed, but faith requires relinquishing your ideas of how things should be.