Pregnant at an Old Age: Tuesday's Reflection

Elizabeth.











Elizabeth, an older woman, was Zechariah's wife.

          Both of them were righteous before God,
          living blamelessly according to all the 
          commandments and regulations of the Lord.
          But they had no children, because Elizabeth
          was barren, and both were getting on in years.
                                              Luke 1: 6-7

Elizabeth, surprise, but according to the angel Gabriel's announcement to Zechariah, conceived

            ...and for five months she remained in 
            seclusion. She said, "This is what the Lord has
            done for me when he looks favorably on me...
                                               Luke 1: 24-25

Mary travels to be with the older woman, and it is Elizabeth who senses, for Mary is early in her pregnancy, that Mary is, also, in fact, pregnant. Elizabeth bestows a loving blessing on Mary.

               Blessed are you among women, and
               blessed is the fruit of your womb...
               And blessed is she who believed that there
               would be a fulfillment of what was spoken 
               to her by the Lord.
                                                  Luke 1: 42, 45

Last year during Advent I sat with Mary. I wondered and prayed about what it means to be "the bearer of God." I amazed at her surrender, her acceptance to "let it be so." This year I have been sitting with Elizabeth, Mary's cousin, and have wondered what it  means to be pregnant late in life. No doubt, Elizabeth had far less energy than Mary. Mary's younger body could respond to the physical requirements of carrying a child, both before and after birth, far easier than Elizabeth could. Mary was no doubt concerned about the social stigma of being pregnant. "How can this be, since I am a virgin?" Elizabeth perhaps was concerned about her own safety and the safety and health of the child she carried at such a late stage in her life. 

One woman had youth on her side, and the other had wisdom.

Both were the centers of mysterious and miraculous stories.  And both were chosen. 

The story of Elizabeth invites me to think about what I might nurture and bring to life at this stage of my life. I often feel bursting with ideas--plans for classes to teach or talks to give, essays to write, and thoughts for chapters in my spiritual memoir. I hold my spiritual direction clients with me, much as a mother holds an infant, as I move through my days, and I pray for enough energy to nurture and care for all my relationships. Somedays, however, "enough" energy does not feel like enough. 

Luke doesn't tell us more about Elizabeth's pregnancy or the birth, except to say that her neighbors "rejoiced with her." Elizabeth was not isolated, but, instead, in a community. I expect that community supported her and helped her in whatever way she needed, in order for her to give birth to her son, John. When her energy was less than she needed, I suspect other women in the community stepped forward to help her. Elizabeth's self-awareness, her wisdom, allowed her to accept help along the way. She did what she could, what she most needed to do. 

I still have lots of energy--most days. And I think I have acquired some wisdom along the way; wisdom that includes accepting the support of a loving friends, family and faith community when needed. Elizabeth and her late in life pregnancy is a wise companion for this time of my life. 

An Invitation
What might Elizabeth teach you? I would love to know. 

NOTE: The portrait of Mary and Elizabeth is by Janet McKenzie and can be found in Holiness and the Feminine Spirit, Art of Janet McKenzie. 

Christmas Blessings: Tuesday's Reflection

First, thank you to all of you who expressed hope that my husband and I would soon be fully recovered from the flu. We have improved and have re-entered the world in both pleasurable and practical ways. We feel ready to celebrate the coming special days. 

My goal over the last two weeks was to feel well enough to lead the adult forum at church on the last Sunday of Advent, and I am so grateful I did not need to cancel. Doing the forum was important to me, for a number of reasons. 

Reason #1: I want to follow through on what I have agreed to do. 

But other reasons are a bit more complicated. 

My forum was to follow three previous ones--each one led by a different woman --each a member of our congregation and each one a Biblical scholar, professors of theology at one of our institutions of higher learning. For each of those Sundays we studied the birth story as presented in the Gospel of Matthew. Such delicious content and excellent teaching. 

I was truly daunted by the prospect of following such a trio of smart, knowledgeable and wise women. 

Reason #2: I believe in challenging myself. In stretching.

Reason #3: I know I have something to offer. I do not assert that in order to brag. By this time in our lives, I hope we each know what we have to offer. In the core of my being, I know I am a teacher,  but my teaching has evolved into more experiencing than learning and from knowing into feeling. 

As a spiritual director, I extend an invitation to go deeper, to listen to the voice of God within, to become aware of the movement of God, the Divine, the sacred in our lives and to reflect that movement, that voice into the way we live our lives. 

My task in my adult forum, I was told, was to use the image of the star and to address the heart, instead of the head, and to integrate the knowledge, the expanded perspectives offered during the previous three sessions.  

That was not fully re-assuring. Just how was I going to do that?

The first Monday in Advent I spontaneously decided to attend a one hour session on the practice of lectio divina at Wisdom Ways.  Lectio divina or sacred reading is a spiritual practice that can be used with any scripture or short passage and is a way to find nourishment in the living word --in whatever way you need right here, right now. 

I almost dismissed the idea of going, for I had a busy day, a busy week ahead of me, but I listened more to my heart, than my calendar, and I went. As I settled into a chair in the circle and took a deep cleansing breath, I knew why I was there. 

I would lead those who attended the adult forum in the process of lectio divina! 

I was ecstatic to have a structure, the beginning of a plan. I knew in that moment that I would change the arrangement of the Fellowship Hall to create a more inviting, more intimate setting--a circle of tables, each with a candle and simple Christmas centerpiece. I would move a small table arranged with four lit candles into the center of the circle, and somehow hang a large star in a prominent location. Instead of looking like a lecture hall, the room would whisper contemplation and reflection. 

It turned out, however, I was sitting in that lectio divina session for another reason, as well. 

In lectio divina, you are asked to open to a word or phrase that resonates with you, touches something deep inside you. That morning the passage was from the Gospel of Thomas.
        If you are searching, you must not stop until you find.
        When you find, however, you will become troubled.
        Your confusion will give way to wonder.
        In wonder you will reign over all things.
        Your sovereignty will be your rest. 

The word that reached out to me was rest. On another day it might have been confusion or you must not stop or wonder, but that morning, a morning I was feeling full of energy and plans, the word was rest. In a few days that word was a direction, an order, a need, and I was not able to do much more than that. Rest. 

That word continued to percolate within me as the flu settled in my chest. 

Unable to go out and Christmas shop or to host the gatherings we had planned, I rested in the word. Over and over I re-read the birth story in Matthew, especially the verses about the star that guided the wise ones. 

            When they had heard the king, they set out and
            there, ahead of them, went the star that they had 
            seen at its rising, until it stopped over the place
            where the child was. When they saw that the star
            has stopped, they were overwhelmed with joy. 
                                         Matthew 2: 9-10

The revelations kept coming--the star was not stationary, but moved. The star was a guide and meant to be followed. I thought about the kind of darkness experienced during that time and how startling that light must have been. Aren't we startled when we feel enveloped in our own emotional darkness, the pain of loss or physical challenges, and then we experience a movement of light, a crack of clarity? Without the darkness there is no light. 

The flu forced me to cancel all appointments, everything on the calendar, including social gatherings in our home. But in that space of rest, I was guided to an ease about the adult forum. A plan emerged, but slowly, gradually. Preparing the hand-outs, gathering the materials became a gift. Daily, I prayed for those who would attend the forum. I prayed I could crack open a window to some truth for each person there. Or at least a moment of rest. 

Sunday morning, after opening with prayer and giving a brief explanation of lectio divina, I guided those who had gathered into the experience, using a passage from Isaiah 60: 1-3, 19.

            Arise, shine for your light has come,
            and the glory of the Lord has risen upon you.
            For darkness shall cover the earth,
            and thick darkness peoples 
            but the Lord will arise upon you,
            and his glory will appear over you.
            Nations shall come to your light
            and kings to the brightness of your dawn...
            but the Lord will be your everlasting light,
            and your God will be your glory. 

We moved in and out of silence. The small groups of four or so at each table shared the word or phrase that resonated with them and their responses to that word. I heard "arise," "light," "shall come to you," and even "but." I held the space during this contemplative time and felt a movement of spirit in the room, the breath of God gently quieting and supporting us. I felt and saw light. I almost swayed, swooned with the peaceful energy in the room.

Reason #4: I needed to feel that light in the contemplative companionship of others.  

Now in this moment I am at my desk with wondrous Christmas music playing softly in the background. My string of twinkling star lights illuminates the serene darkness. I feel tears, just a few. Tears of love and gratitude. Tears of hope for all who feel no hope. Tears of hope for our broken world. Tears of hope that light will illuminate our days, our souls, our hearts. 

Whether you celebrate Christmas or not, whether you have a faith tradition or not, I wish you light and love and hope. We are all one. 

An Invitation
Where do you find light? I would love to know. 

Addendum: As I was gathering the leftover materials after the forum, a young person delivered a lily to me. She had been asked by someone to bring it to me, but didn't know the name of the person. It was a thank you gift. Thank you, whoever you are. I am touched and honored. 
         

Being Sick at Christmas: Tuesday's Reflection

I've spent a lot of time in my favorite flannel pajamas recently. Both my husband and I have wretched colds right now and have been confined to our house for several days. Actually, we now think we have the flu, even though we had the shot. 

Being sick at Christmas is no fun! 

I remember when I was a child and often had tonsillitis--sometimes at Christmas time. I remember going to the doctor on Christmas Eve before our family drove to my grandparents' farm, and I remember spending part of Christmas vacation confined to bed, instead of ice skating or sledding with my friends.

One year, when I was in third or fourth grade, I was too sick to go to school on the last day before vacation and missed our class party where we exchanged gifts. I asked my best friend, who lived across the street, to deliver my present to my class and bring home one for me. Well, she must have forgotten, because she brought me the present I intended to be exchanged. I was so disappointed--not because I didn't like what I had selected, but I missed being surprised. 

Nope, being sick at Christmas is no fun. The shopping is not done nor the wrapping and forget the baking. We had to cancel two gatherings at our house and missed seeing our grandson Peter be Joseph in the Christmas pageant. Oh, how sorry we have felt for ourselves. 









All is not lost, however. How often do we lament about how busy these days are and how there is so much to do? Will we be ready? Will we get everything done? 











Well, here's how I've spent the last week. I've gone to bed early and slept late. I've spent hours in the snug reading purely for pleasure. I've relished the sounds of Christmas music playing in the background and the sight of Christmas lights on our tree and garlands. 

In the morning I've lingered in my Girlfriend Chair in the garret, reading Advent devotions, reflecting on wise words.

               What surprised the shepherds was not that the
               Messiah would come or the angels had called
               them or the divine presence was in a baby. What
               surprised them was that God had come to the very
               place where they had always been. The process is
               the same for us. Wherever we go to find Life, the
               fact is that Life is already within us if we will only
               attend to it.      Joan Chittister

God comes to me wherever I am. God comes to me in my Life the way it is right now--in sickness and in health. And God will continue to come to me, as I age and experience loss and serious health threats, and as I need to adapt to changes in my circumstances. 

Eventually, I will feel better, and the flu will be a thing of the past. This is a minor setback compared to what many are suffering, but it is a reminder that God is present no matter what. My ongoing challenge--and opportunity--is to find the joy, the gifts, the light. No matter what. 

An Invitation
How is God coming to you this Christmas? I would love to know. 

2019 Favorite Books, Tuesday's Reflection

"I have Christmas shopping to do. Just when are you going to post

your list of favorite books?" 

Ok, friend, here it is. The list is long because I read over a hundred books this year, but perhaps that will mean you will find a title or two you might want to buy for someone on your Christmas list. More than that, I hope you will discover a title you want to read. 

My Top Favorite Fiction Titles of 2019

1. The World That We Knew by Alice Hoffman. LOVED this book. Set in France towards the end of WWII. Realistic, but also mystical, involving the presence of a golem created to protect a young Jewish girl fleeing Germany. 

2.  The Dutch House by Ann Patchett. I have told people if you read this book and don't like it, don't tell me that. I could hardly bear to turn the last page. Siblings, a wicked stepmother, and a house. 

3.  The Nickel Boys by Colin Whitehead. Based on true story about a home for juvenile boys in Florida. Horrible things happen there, but this is not a book meant to just shock. Trauma becomes resilience. Lies become illuminated. 

4.  City of Girls by Elizabeth Gilbert. Set in New York City in the 1940's theater world, I thought at first it might be a fluffy read, but Gilbert writes with such energy and honesty, and her characters are substantial and interesting. Well-done!

5.  Station Eleven by Emily St John Mandel. This book has been on my list for a LONG time and finally, finally I read it. A flu wipes out most of the world's population, but a few, whom we get to know before and after the pandemic, survive. The survivors include The Symphony, a traveling group of actors and musicians, who perform Shakespeare. Did I read a rumor that this is a forthcoming movie? 

6.  The Great Believers by Rebecca Makkai. This book was on many "best books of 2018" and I concur. The plot moves back and forth between 1985 and 2015 and focuses on those touched by AIDS. Here's a quote that highlights the theme, I think.

          If we could just be on earth at the same place and

          same time as everyone we loved, if we could be born

          together and die together, it would be so simple. And it's

          not. But listen: you two are on the planet at the same

          time. You're in the same place now. That's a miracle.

                                                                     p. 401

7.  Unsheltered by Barbara Kingsolver. This was the second book I read this year, and it continues to live in me. The story moves back and forth between now and much earlier --during the time of Darwin's revelations. The setting for both times is a decrepit house and the lives of the people who live there. 

Other Favorite Fiction Titles of 2019

1.  The Secrets We Kept by Lara Prescott

2.  This Tender Land by William Kent Krueger

3.  The Testaments by Margaret Atwood

4.  Walking on the Ceiling by Aysegul Savas

5.  A Better Man by Louise Penney

6.  The Other Americans by Laila Lalami

7.  Rules for Visiting by Jessica Francis Kane

8.  Lost Children Archive by Valeria Luiselli

9.  The Last Romantics by Tara Conklin

10. Washington Black by Esi Edugyan

11. The Secrets Between Us by Thrity Umrigar

12. On Beauty by Zadie Smith

13. An American Marriage by Tayari Jones (for the second time)

14. The Great Alone by Kristin Hannah 

15. The American Agent by Jacqueline Winspear

16. The Gravity of Birds by Tracy Guzman

17. They May Not Meant To But They Do by Catherine Schine

18. Range of Motion by Elizabeth Berg

19. Meet Me at the Museum by Anne Youngson

20. Laurentian Divide by Sarah Stonich

My Top Favorite Nonfiction Titles of 2019

1.  The Universal Christ, How a Forgotten Reality Can Change Everything We See, Hope For, and Believe by Richard Rohr. I am still digesting this book and will be for a long time, I suspect. The book explores what it means that Jesus was called "Christ" and how that can restore hope and meaning in our world. 

2.  The Creative Habit. Learn It and Use It For Life by Twyla Tharp. Tharp is a world-renowned choreographer, but this book is not limited to dancing. I underlined so much in this book! Here are a couple favorite quotes. 

             Remember this the next time you wonder if a 

             piece is finished. If you don't have the feeling

             that you've straightened out a messy room, keep

             working. p. 208

             I'm often asked, "Where do you get your ideas?'...

             The short answer is: everywhere. It's like asking

             "Where do you find the air you breathe?" Ideas are

             around you. p. 95

3.  White Fragility, Why It's So Hard for White People to Talk About Racism by Robin Diangelo. An Important Book. Don't miss the chapter on white women's tears. 

4.  Holy Envy, Finding God in the Faith of Others by Barbara Brown Taylor. Taylor's reflections on teaching a college course on religions of the world and how she found something to love in each tradition. Her usual personal, clear style.

5.  Inheritance, A Memoir of Genealogy, Paternity and Love by Dani Shapiro. Shapiro has a DNA test done and discovered her biological father. 

6.  The Warmth of Other Suns, The Epic Story of America's Great Migration by Isabel Wilkerson. A must read book. The history of migration of African-Americans from the U.S. South to other parts of the country. Wilkerson profiles specific people, following them through the years. 

Other Favorite Nonfiction Titles of 2019

1. Faithful Farewell, LivingYour Last Chapter with Love by Marilyn Chandler McEntyre

2.  Evicted, Poverty and Profit in the American City by Matthew Desmond

3.  Onigamiesing, Seasons of an Ojibwe Year by Linda LeGarde Grover

4.  Spillville by Patricia Hampl (second reading)

5.  Maybe You Should Talk to Someone, A Therapist, Her Therapist and Our Lives Revealed by Lori Gottlieb

6.  Emmett Till, The Murder That Shocked the World and Propelled the Civil Rights Movement by Devery S. Anderson

7.  The Time is Now, A Call to Uncommon Change by Joan Chittister

8.  How To Forget, A Daughter's Memoir by Kate Mulgrew

9.  Two Lives by Reeve Lindbergh

10. Into The Silent Land, The Practice of Contemplation by Martin Laird

11. Let Evening Come, Reflections on Aging by Mary C. Morris

12. Women Rowing North, Navigating Life's Currents and Flourishing as We Age by Mary Pipher

13. The Soul's Slow Ripening, 12 Celtic Practices for Seeking the Sacred by Christine Valters Painter

14. Forward from Here, Leaving Middle Age--and Other Unexpected Adventures by Reeve Lindbergh

15. My Life on the Road by Gloria Steinem

16. Why Religion? A Personal Story by Elaine Pagels

17. Kitchen Yarns, Notes on Life, Love and Food by Ann Hood

That's it!!! I am currently reading a wonderful novel called The Far Field by Madhuri Vijay,  Drinking from the River of Light, The Life of Expression by Mark Nepo, and Light of the World, A Beginner's Guide to Advent by Amy-Jill Levine. Plus, I just got a notice that a copy of Elizabeth Strout's new book Olive, Again is waiting for me at the library. Happy reading. 

              Reading is your first line of defense

              against an empty head. Twyla Tharp

               

An Invitation

What are you reading and what do you recommend? I would love to know.

             

Stir Up Prayers: Tuesday's Reflection

Stir up your power and come. 
Stir up our hearts.
Stir up your power and come.

I have always loved these brief words often recited in church during the four Sundays leading up to Christmas Day.

One year, decades ago, I mentioned to our pastor how meaningful those words were to me, and we decided to use them as the theme for our stewardship campaign. Everyone in the congregation was given a wooden spoon with the church's name stamped on it. We were invited to use the spoon to stir together batter for pancakes or cookies or other nourishing food and to remember our mission: stir up and be the love of God. 

This past weekend our little house was a stirred up mess! Bins pulled out of storage rimmed the edges of the living room and dining room walls. Tissue paper billowed underneath tables and chairs, as we unpacked Christmas ornaments and other decorations. Books and other items normally on display were stacked on the dining room table before being stored for the next few weeks. The house was whipped up into a frenzy, and it was hard to imagine how order, let alone beauty, would be restored.

Little by little, step by step, we stirred and stirred until all the individual ingredients, including our funny artificial Charlie Brown tree, became a new creation of peace and harmony and serenity. Even beauty. 

We were stirred up into action, and now we feel more prepared for this new season. 

The stir up prayers are a call to God to enter our lives and a call for each of us to respond to the call. To open our hearts and to use our gifts.

Many of us feel stirred up as we listen to or watch the news these days. We feel our heart rate increase. We shake our heads and sigh, worried about what seems to be happening. We talk to our friends, reporting the latest indignity or development, saying "How can this be?" Our emotions are on a rampage, energizing our fears. 

The "stir up" prayers invite us to move beyond those fears and disappointments and anxieties. The stir up prayers invite us to respond to what moves us. To serve a meal. To write a letter. To make a financial contribution. To shovel a sidewalk. To listen to someone who feels unheard. To examine an unchallenged belief. To show up. To stretch beyond our comfort zone. To live with compassion. To open to the ways God stirs up within us. 

In the next few weeks I will make many batches of cherry walnut bread, and each time, using the wooden spoon, I will stir up, gently, but deliberately, the flour and buttermilk and vanilla and cherries.

                       Stir up your power and come. 
                       Stir up our hearts.
                       Stir up your power and come. 

An Invitation
What stirs you up? How will you stir up your heart and invite a new power into your life? I would love to know. 

A Gratitude List: Tuesday's Reflection

Yes, it is that time of year--the time to intentionally give thanks for my many blessings.  I try to be aware of my blessings on a daily basis, but how easy it is to take my good health and Bruce's good health for granted, along with the love of family and friends. My life is full of riches, and I am so grateful.






I am grateful for so many things--big and small. 
      * The ongoing opportunity to meet with my spiritual
         direction clients.
      * The sun pouring in through the snug's windows.
      * A bit of chocolate hidden in my desk drawer.
      * The next book waiting to be read.
      * Sunday Mornings--worship and education, greeting friends
         and welcoming those new to this time and space
      * "Wait, Wait Don't Tell Me," the comedy news show on NPR. 
      *  A small neighborhood grocery store for the times I forgot to  
         get something on my list.
      *  A fresh hanky for my pocket or purse.
      *  Leftovers
      *  The new season of "The Crown" on Netflix
      *  My grandchildren who always seem happy to see me and 
          willing to share themselves. 
      *  The library's HOLD list. 
      *  A chatty email from a friend.
      *  A goodnight's rest.
      *  An idea for my next blog post.
      *  Space on the calendar.
      *  The twinkle lights around my garret window.
      *  Morning devotions. Time to pray. Time to write in my 
          journal. Time to watch the day begin.
      *  A new podcast on one of favorites, such as "What Should I 
         Read Next?"  
      *  A date for lunch with my sister or a dear friend. 
      * Our son and daughter-in-love's elderly dog does not have 
         cancer.
      *  An unexpected conversation in the grocery store with a  
         friend from church.
      *  The drive along Minnehaha Creek.
      *  My insightful spiritual director.  
      *  Walks in our neighborhood. Now I notice the changes from
          pumpkins to Christmas greens and lights. 
      *  The sound of children playing outside after school.
      *  My husband extending his hand or arm as we cross the street.  
      *  The gift of living close to family. We are here for them, and
          and they are here for us. 
      *  Preparations for the coming holidays. Yes, they are full -- but
          the fullness is more joy-filled than stress-filled. 

I know as soon as I publish this post, other blessings will fill my heart. I count you, dear readers, by the way, among my many blessings. 

Sooo... imagine me saying very loudly with great expression.

               I AM SO GRATEFUL!!!!

              Love wholeheartedly, be surprised, give
              thanks and praise--then you will discover
              the fullness of life. 
                                 Br. David Stendl-Rast

An Invitation
What's on your gratitude list? I would love to know. Have a wonderful Thanksgiving. 

Being in Dialogue: Tuesday's Reflection

I went to the Westminster Town Hall Forum to hear one of my heroes speak: Parker Palmer, whose books are lanterns along the way of my spiritual life.

I had no idea I would discover another star in the sky. 

Instead of one "old white man" speaking--and Palmer would say that about himself--I was introduced to an amazing Black woman in her 50's who has lots to share. Sondra Samuels, the president and CEO of the Northside Achievement Zone (NAZ), an organization focused on ending intergenerational poverty through education and family stability. 

I have no doubt I would have learned a great deal if Samuels had been the solo person on the platform, but oh, how much richer the hour was because of the dialogue between the two of them. 

Dialogue is richer than simple conversation and different from advice giving, for dialogue involves shared inquiry, which can increase the awareness and understanding of all parties. The purpose of dialogue is to share and understand how we each experience the world. When we enter into dialogue our hearts are touched and we are open to being changed. 

That's what Samuels and Palmer offered as they
        * listened to each other respectfully and with the ears of the heart, checking each other's responses, asking for clarification and amplification, 
       * dared to be vulnerable with each other, 
       * reminded us it is ok to let someone else have time to talk, and it is important to give time and space to talk about and listen to difficult and painful topics,
       * expressed curiosity, which can lead to deep listening. When we listen deeply we are truly present to the other person in their experience, in their sorrow and/or joy, and in their desire for connection. 

Most importantly, both Palmer and Samuels proclaimed the need to speak the truth and speak the truth in love. Not in "Minnesota Nice," and certainly not in rage. But in the listening and speaking  healing can occur. 

Granted, Samuels and Palmer seemed to be on the same page when it comes to politics and what is happening in this country, but their experiences over the years have been vastly different. Samuels carries her "blackness" in her body and Palmer will never know fully know what that means, but they leaned into each other, daring to speak and to hear one another.

Samuels quoted a poem by Hafiz, which Palmer included in his book Healing the Heart of Democracy, The Courage to Create a Politics Worthy of the Human Spirit, p. 47.
  
                                         Out
                                  of a great need
                           We are all holding hands
                                   And climbing
                           Not loving is a letting go.
                                        Listen,
                            The terrain around here
                                           Is
                                        Far too
                                     Dangerous
                                           For
                                          That.

An Invitation
Make a commitment to hold hands and climb together. Who is waiting to be in dialogue with you? I would love to know. 

My Favorite Parker Palmer books:
Healing the Heart of Democracy, The Courage to Create a Politics Worthy of the Human Spirit
Let Your heart Speak, Listening for the Voice of Vocation
A Hidden Wholeness, The Journey Toward an Undivided Life

You can listen to the podcast or online at https://www.westminsterforum.org/archive/

Preparing for Winter: Tuesday's Reflection

NOTE: Beginning this week, I will only post on Tuesdays till after the New Year. 

This morning a neighbor walked by when I was sweeping off the light dusting of snow on our sidewalks, and we had a brief conversation.
    "I've decided to be optimistic and hope the snow will melt today," he laughed.
    "Let me know how that works for you," I responded.
    "Do you and Bruce get away during the winter?"
    "Not usually. We like winter. It doesn't generally bother us. How about you?" 
     Really? Well, I've got plans to be gone in January and March and maybe December, too," he chuckled and dashed down the block towards his house, tugging on the leash of his dog. 

Thus, begins the ongoing discussion about winter distress here in Minnesota. True, winter has arrived a bit earlier and a bit more definitely than normal this year. The temperature here is 6 this morning, but the sun is shining brightly and no more snow is predicted till later in the week.

I realize I have a life of privilege. I live in a cozy house with a good furnace. I have a supply of sweaters and shawls and wool socks and long underwear, when I need it. Plus, as a woman in her 70's, I can stay home when I want to and don't need to battle the ice and snow on the roads.  

Perhaps it is my Danish heritage, but I not only don't dread winter, I welcome it. Last year I learned about the Danish concept of hygge (hue ga), which is hard to define, but has to do with finding joy in the simple pleasures of everyday life. 
            
           Hygge illuminates the long, dark Scandinavian
           winters with candlelight and crackling hearths
           and good times shared with friends and family.

           Hygge is about instilling a feeling of contentment
           and happiness...Decorate your home with items that
           bring you joy, such as fresh flowers and pine cones
           collected on country walks. 

           Hygge is about sharing good times with the people
           you love, and one of the best ways of doing this is to 
           sit down together for a meal or tea and cake, and discuss
           the big (and little) things in life.

           Hygge isn't just about shutting out the cold and 
           snuggling by the fire.

           Hygge is about seeing beauty in the everyday and
           savoring each moment either in the form of well-
           deserved "me time" or spending time with loved ones.

                           from The Art of Hygge, How to Bring
                           Danish Cosiness into Your Life
                           Jonny Jackson and Elias Larson

The winter months feel spacious to me. I look at the bare trees and see open space; space in which I can spend more hours at my desk writing or in the snug under a blanket reading. I sleep longer, too, and we are learning how important good sleep is for our well-being. I love the hearty food of winter, the layers of comfy clothes, the song of the wind outside the door, and even the early arrival of darkness each day. 

That's how I feel, but I know that is not the case for everyone. However, I invite you to prepare for this coming season. What can you do to improve these winter days for yourself?

Gather some favorite recipes for soups. Become a baker--breads and scones and muffins. Buy a new boardgame or get out
ones you haven't played in years. Stack favorite books you have thought about re-reading. Set a pretty table--be sure to include candles--even when you are eating by yourself. Get out a craft project you set aside--a sweater you haven't finished knitting. 

Remember those boxes of photographs you keep telling yourself you want to organize. Now is the time. Rearrange your furniture. Move a favorite chair to the spot in the house that gets the best light--no matter what room it is. Cut paper snowflakes--they will remind you of the magic and wonder of childhood. 

Write letters. Not emails. Letters. Luxuriate in soothing body lotions. Watch feel-good movies. Get outside, even if it means only standing on your front steps and breathing. When it isn't icy, bundle up and go for a walk. Notice the beauties of the day. 

Check on a neighbor who may need help shoveling or getting to the grocery store or who may find winter to be even more distressing than you do. I bet she would love some of the muffins you made. And what can you do for others who don't have the privileged life you do? Are you really using all the coats and scarves taking up space in your closet? Contact a local agency who would love to have them. 

Rather than wait till you are snowed in or feeling the heaviness of one dark day after another, prepare now. Get ready. Make a list of appealing activities and gather what you may need. 

Our weariness with winter doesn't make the season go any faster, so why not decide to live into these months? Why not honor these days of your life?

                   Fear less, hope more; 
                   eat less, chew more;
                   whine less, breathe more;
                   talk less, say more;
                   hate less, love more; and 
                   all good things are yours.
                              Scandinavian proverb

An Invitation
What are your winter intentions? I would love to know. 

Gingko Trees in the Fall: Thursday's Reflection

NOTE: I am going to take a short break--a fall break--from posting. I will return on Tuesday, November 12.


"Today is the day," announced my husband.

A few days before he had learned that gingko trees all drop their leaves at the same time--all their leaves--and as I drove through the neighborhood to meet a friend, I discovered that seemed to be true. 

The leaves on some of the gingko trees were yellow-gold and others were still summer green. That made no difference. The gingko trees were blithely letting go of all their leaves, and cars and streets were covered in piles of shed leaves. 








Now you know I love a metaphor, and this one is obvious, but too good to pass up. 

I wonder what leaves I need to shed. Why shouldn't today be the day?
What collection of past hurts and slights need to go?
What painful memories need to be transformed into a new season?
What illusions and denials need to float away?
What attachments need to disconnect?
What would happen if my branches were allowed to breathe and open to the sun? 
What would be possible if I graciously and gracefully created space in my life for new growth? 
What stories have been told over and over again without new understanding? How would it feel to write a new story? 


How odd it would be to see a gingko tree in the Minnesota winter still holding onto all its leaves. Wouldn't we wonder what was wrong with that tree? Well, I need to ask myself that same question. Here you are, Nancy, 70 plus years, in the autumn of your life, how are you preparing for your life's winter?

I would like these years to feel lighter. 
I would like more emotional and spiritual space in which my essence can thrive. 
I would like to be the tree I was created to be. 

I think that means letting go of the leaves that no longer serve me or those who love me; the leaves that weigh me down, instead of giving me life. 

So, why not let today be the day. 

To close, here is an unpublished poem by visual artist Janet Higgins, who is in my writing group. You can often see her work at Highpoint Center for Printmaking. Thanks,Janet, for allowing me to share this poem. 

      Time -- like a River --
      Freezes, Cracks and Falls
      Around my head....
      Scattering illusions and
      Whispering secrets from a
      Time almost forgotten --
      Re-member the path to
      The Garden...
                         

An Invitation
Is today the day for you? I would love to know. 

Highpoint Center for Printmaking

Creating Space: Tuesday's Reflection

Sometimes what I need is space. 



Some emptiness. 










The past week was a full one.

 Taking my Dad out for lunch and a "leaf tour," 
 Meeting with clients,
 Teaching T'ai Chi,
 Sitting with a dear friend at the hospital while her husband had open heart surgery,
 Having lunch at our house with one of my writing groups, 
 Enjoying lunch with friends who had just returned from the civil rights tour we went on a year ago, 
 Attending the middle school play to support our grandson who was the Sound Crew,
 AND, officiating at a wedding. The first time I have done that and what joy, what fun that was! 

Of course, there were all the normal bits and pieces of day-to-day life, too. Doing the laundry. Grocery shopping and meal fixing. Responding to emails. Writing my posts for this blog. Running errands. 

Now first let me say, there were so many gifts during the week, and how grateful I am for this rich life and for the privilege of being with friends and family in both the ordinary and the exceptional times of the their lives. But I admit I was a bit weary as we headed off to church Sunday morning. 

What I needed was some space. Some open space. 

So what did I do?

I cleaned the garret. I suppose I could have put my feet up and read the newspaper or a book or even napped, but that wasn't quite what I needed. I needed to see open space. Some emptiness. I needed to at least give myself the illusion that not everything is packed to the brim. 

Cleaning and reorganizing does that for me. 













The result? Four empty drawers in the garret, an empty shelf and two empty baskets. A very full garbage bag.

AND a heart and mind open to whatever fills the coming days. 

An Invitation
How do you clear the space? I would love to know. 

Words Matter: Thursday's Reflection

Lynching.

Last fall ten of us from our congregation traveled in Alabama and Mississippi as part of a Civil Rights Tour led by our guide Mark Swiggum, whose mission is to promote anti-racism education. 

One of the most profound and powerful stops was at the National Memorial for Peace and Justice, https://museumandmemorial.eji.org/memorial, also known as the Lynching Memorial, in Montgomery, Alabama. Completed in 2018, this memorial was developed by Bryan Stephenson and the Equal Justice Initiative. 

Here's what we learned.

Lynching was used as an instrument of terror and intimidation 4082 times between 1877 and 1950, but many more lynchings were undocumented. 

This was white terrorism used to maintain white supremacy. 

Often a lynching drew crowds of thousands and was a time when people brought families, including children, to experience the event as a festive celebration. Walking into this open air exhibit, however, was like stepping onto the grounds of a concentration or extermination camp in Germany. One felt the need to whisper, to become very quiet, for this is a sacred place.














Casket shaped steel boxes standing on end were arranged in rows.  The names of people who were lynched and the county where they were lynched are engraved on the boxes. The metal, as its corrodes, drips rust-colored drops on the oak wood flooring, suggesting tears and blood. 

Moving along, the floor slanted downwards and gradually the boxes are suspended overhead. We became part of the twisted crowd taking in the spectacle of intimidation. And death. 

On plaques lining the memorial we read,

"Hundreds of black men, women, and children were lynched in the Elaine Massacre in Phillips County, Arkansas in 1919.

"Dozens of men, women, and children were lynched in a massacre in East St Louis, Illinois in 1917.

"Seven black men were lynched near Screamer, Alabama in 1888 for drinking from a white man's well.

"Jesse Thornton was lynched in Luverne, Alabama in 1940 for addressing a white police officer without the title 'mister.'

"Elias Clayton, Isaac McGhie, and Elmer Jackson were lynched by a mob of 10,000 people in Duluth, Minnesota, in 1920."


This is lynching. 

Words matter. 

An Invitation
If you feel outrage by the misuse of this word, what will you do? I would love to know. 

NOTE: I adapted the text for this post from the script several of us from the tour wrote and presented to church groups after our return from the trip. 

For more reflections on this Civil Rights Tour read my earlier posts: November 13, 15, and 20, 2018.