Tuesday, November 24, 2020

Being Divine Light

 One of my best parts of the day is in the morning when I walk up the stairs to the garret, and I turn on the twinkly lights around the window and then light up the sparkly fairy tree. Next is my desk lamp, followed by a small candle and the floor lamp near the Girlfriend Chair. 


I welcome the light. Not because I fear or dislike the darkness. In fact without the darkness I can't see the light.

No, these little lights remind me to know the Divine Light within me. 

And to live as that light in the world. 

Each of us has the task to expand that light into the world.


Here's an example. My husband has been collecting items needed by those whose circumstances have forced them to live in tent encampments in our metropolitan area. The numbers of people without homes is staggering, and imagine what it means to face a Minnesota winter living in a tent. Bruce initially responded to a request from our neighborhood social media site, and then he put out a call to our congregation and wow, the results have been amazing. He takes the donations he receives to a central site, and they are distributed as needed from there.  

And then there was light! 

I have written before about my mother's habit of turning on a lamp in my bedroom whenever I was home visiting. She did that before the dark descended. And then no matter when I went to bed, there was light to welcome me. 

I think that is what is happening outside, too. Last night I stood on our front steps and noticed all the homes lit up with exterior holiday lights. Not only earlier than previous years, but many more than last year. There may be logical reasons for this: the weather has been conducive for outdoor decorating, and our street has lots of young families now, and you know how children love decorations. 

But I suspect the reason is deeper than that. Not only do we need the light, but we need to BE the light right now. We need to extend the light into the world. 

And then there was light! Divine Light

An Invitation 
Where are you noticing light and how are you extending light into the world? I would love to know. 




Monday, November 16, 2020

Do You Care?


I begin my day by reading historian 
Heather Cox Richardson's  newsletter, "Letters from an American." I confess I do this even before I make the bed and before I head to the garret for my morning devotion time. Often what I read in her daily commentary becomes the basis for my prayers.

What I read Sunday morning almost took my breath away. 

            Excerpts from a new book by
            former President 
            Barack Obama, due out next week, reveal 
            McConnell’s response to a plea from then-
            Vice President Biden to pass a worthwhile bill. 
            McConnell answered: “You must be under the 
            mistaken impression that I care.” 

McConnell, of course, refers to Senator Majority Leader Mitch McConnell (R-KY).

Let me repeat McConnell's words.

       "You must be under the mistaken impression that I care."

Take in those words. Close your eyes and hear them being said. The man saying them was elected by citizens to serve in the Senate. If you are from Kentucky, how does that sound to you? And in the rest of the country, how would you like it if the man or woman elected to serve the people in your state said he or she didn't care? 

I don't know what the bill was that McConnell was asked to consider, but I expect those who represent me in government positions TO CARE, no matter what the issue is or what position is taken. Care enough to consider, to study, to listen, to investigate, to look at all sides, to ponder, to think, to ask questions. And yes, to challenge. Care at least that much.

Part of my morning devotion time is reading Barbara Brown Taylor's new book, a collection of her sermons, Always A Guest, Speaking of Faith Far From Home. As always, I find her provocative and inspirational. She cares. Her text for a sermon called "How To Lose Your Life Everyday," was Romans 12:14-18.

            Bless those who persecute you; bless and do not
            curse them. Rejoice with those who rejoice, weep
            with those who weep. Live in harmony with one
            another; do not be haughty, but associate with the
            lowly; do not claim to be wiser than you are. Do not
            repay anyone evil for evil, but take thought for what
            is noble in the sight of all. If it is possible, so far as
            it depends on you, live peaceably with all.

These verses are full of admonitions to care. Reread these verses, substituting the word "care" where it makes sense.

            Care for those who persecute you; care and do
            not curse them. Care for those who rejoice, care 
            for those who weep. Live in caring harmony 
            with one another; do not be haughty, but care 
            for the lowly; do not claim to be wiser than you
            are. Do not repay evil for evil, but care about what
            is noble in the sight of all. If it is possible, so far 
            as it depends on you, live peaceably with and
            care for all. 

Hear that, Mr. McConnell. 

Hear that, Nancy, for, of course, those words are for me. 
For each of us. 

How many times have you heard both before and after the election, "What can I do?" Well, we each have to come up with specific answers, and there are plenty out there, but the first step is to care

Just care

Right now one way--a big way--to show you care is to wear a mask. 

An Invitation
What are some ways you show you care? Where do you see evidence of caring? I would love to know. 

Tuesday, November 10, 2020

Relief: Post Election Thoughts

 


I heard the news about the Biden-Harris win Saturday morning and exhaled. A deep, long exhale. 

I don't think I realized how I had been holding my breath. Not just during the past few days, but for weeks, maybe months.

Throughout the day I felt my body ease, releasing tension, as I inhaled and then EXHALED. 

With each exhalation, I made room for relief and gratitude. Where I had been holding tightly, hoping for hope, I gathered light. 

And just for the moment, that was enough. Let's just delight in the moment, I said to myself. Let's just feel the joy and the exuberance. Let's just honor the work that made this outcome possible, along with the belief that democracy is worth the effort.

But now that we have listened to the grace-filled acceptance speeches, and the fireworks have ended, the work of "what now?" begins. The work of healing and the work of becoming, really becoming the nation we say we want to be. It's time to truly prove that we are a nation of opportunity and justice for all. 

Sunday morning following our online worship service, we moved into the adult forum time, all on ZOOM of course. During that hour we were divided into small break-out groups where we talked about next steps and how we each might make a difference. I imagined the nation on a ginormous ZOOM meeting where we would divide into break-out sessions. Small groups of diverse people with a wide range of beliefs. Small groups in which we would need to introduce ourselves because we have never met each other. 

Our task in those groups would be to listen to one another with the ears of our heart. What are your hopes for our country? What worries you? Where do you find joy? What losses have you experienced? What do you most want me to know about you? What would it take for you to feel more confident in the direction of our country? 

I hear the term "civil discourse" used frequently, usually in the context of how rare it has been in recent years. Civil discourse is a worthy goal, but I want something more--maybe it's "holy" discourse or "sacred" discourse. Discourse that is less about persuasion or even clarity and more about listening each other into our best selves, about remembering that we are all beloved children of God, and we were created to love another. Discourse that is possible because we take time to ground ourselves, to make room for spiritual practices in our lives, and to pay attention to the movement of God within and around us. 

I remember hearing my mother exhale deep sighs as she settled herself into bed at night. It was almost as if she needed to shed the worries, the work, the day's ups and downs before she could rest and restore. Only then could she prepare for the next day. 

And so I exhale. May we all find new ways of breathing together.


An Invitation
As you exhale, what are you making room for? I would love to know. 

"...whatever is true, whatever is noble, whatever is right, whatever is pure, whatever is lovely, whatever is admirable--if anything is excellent or praiseworthy--think about such things." 
                                                            Philippians 4:8

"When what has always been becomes more important than what might be, institutions die, relationships die, excitement dies."
                                                            Joan Chittister

"The path forward may sometimes be unclear. And it may be messy. But the shared heart is calling, and we have an opportunity to make lasting shifts toward love and justice in our world."
                                                            Kristi Nelson

"This is one of the lessons that Jesus gave through his example: before action, contemplation must take place. And for true contemplation to happen, one must step outside oneself."
                                                            John Valters Paintner
             
                   
    









Tuesday, November 3, 2020

Election Day: What Will You Do Today?


 First and foremost, If you haven't voted, VOTE!!

Even if you aren't standing in a long line, the day itself is going to feel long--and chances are, we won't know the final results for several days, so plan how you are going to use this time.

Here are a few random ideas:



Leave the House.

           Go for a drive. 

           Walk or bike in your neighborhood. Walk longer than you normally do. Take two walks.

            Pack a picnic and go to a nearby park. Bundle up if it is cold.

            Deliver food to a food shelf. 


            

Create.

          Color. Sketch. Paint. 

          Finish the sweater you started knitting last winter.

          Make a collage. I am putting together favorite photos of Bruce and me with our granddaughter who turns 18 this month.

          Bake cut-out cookies and decorate.

         Untangle your exterior Christmas lights and start decorating. 


Write.

          Compose a letter, not an email, but a chatty, warm letter.

          Start a new journal or continue one.

          Begin putting together your ethical will. Here's a good resource: Ethical Wills, Putting Your Values on Paper by Barry K. Baines.

          Draft your annual Christmas letter. Address envelopes.

          Write a thank you note to someone from your past, even if they are no longer living. 


Clean. 

          Sweep the garage.

          Look for warm clothes to donate to homeless or others in need.

          Rearrange your pantry.

          Dejunk the junk drawer.

          Toss random plastic containers, especially those without covers.

          Scrub the inside of your refrigerator. And while you are at it, throw out old jars of jelly and salad dressing.

           Toss the pumpkins. 




Change.

           Your bedding. In Minnesota it is time for flannel sheets.

           Your sofa pillows and mantel arrangements.

            Your background picture on your phone or laptop or profile picture on Facebook.

             Your routine. 


Start a BIG project.

            Begin to organize the boxes of photos. How long has this been on your list?

            Write the first pages of "The Great American Novel."

            Cut out squares for a quilt.

            Read the first pages of Moby Dick and then keep reading.

            Make lefse. (Look it up, if you don't know what that is.)




Read. (You knew this would be on my list!)

         Reread a favorite book. 

         Read a novel, if you prefer to read nonfiction and vice versa.

         Read a children's book. Aloud.

         Read poetry. Aloud. 

         Read before you take a nap and after you take a nap.

         Read during lunch or dinner.

         Read in your favorite chair or try a new location.

       Make a list of books you want to read and start reading.

         Start rereading a favorite series like the Harry Potter books or Louise Penny's mysteries. 

          Ask a friend what she is reading and what she thinks you should read.    

          Request books from the library and/or place an order with your favorite independent bookstore. 













Research.

          Plan a trip somewhere you've never been or ok, if you must, someplace you want to go to again. Research flights, places to stay, restaurants, activities, sites. Plan your day to day itinerary. 

          Explore volunteer opportunities.

          Study a topic that interests you.

        Pull out a cookbook you haven't used for awhile and plan menus for the next few days--new recipes or old favorites.

          Gather catalogs that have arrived in your mailbox and start ordering Christmas gifts. 


Play.

          Set up a Scrabble game.

          Start a 1000 piece jigsaw puzzle.

          Practice the piano or other musical instrument. 

           

Rest. 

        Take a nap--a long nap.

           Enjoy a bubble bath. 

           Crawl into bed and read.

           Listen to soothing music. 

                   

Pray.

Meditate. 

Pray.

Meditate.    


An Invitation
What are you going to do today? I would love to know.