I took the book off the shelf—The Best Spiritual Writing of 2002—because the title caught me.  I love spending time in the library, the expression of all those ideas housed in one building. Anyway,  I flipped through the book and there it was: a small piece of paper that said “F--- this place!”  It caught me off guard, and even embarrassed me a bit.  But immediately I wondered who would write this and place it in a book of spiritual writing, no less?  And to what place was he/she referring?  The library?  Gee, that’s one of my most favorite places to spend time.  I can’t imagine anyone using an expletive to “bless” a place I find incredibly freeing. 

But then I wondered if this individual was actually cursing his/her place in life?  If the expresser were an adolescent, it would be a fitting curse for that time and place in one’s life.  Adolescence is difficult, painful, necessary.  As is all growth.

I revisited this while out walking this morning…probably when my most creative, challenging thinking occurs and realized that we all go through those “f---ing” places in our lives.  And in the midst of them, we experience pain and difficulty.  But here’s what I’ve found—unless one sees his or her own fragility, one cannot see the largeness or largesse of God.  And that trek into humility takes on many forms – adolescence, disability, loss, chronic pain, to name a few.  But within all those circumstances there is a very large God out there ready to take the helm!

Here’s a scripture verse that I find fitting: 

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.

--Psalm 40: 1-2

And speaking of notes stuck in books, guess what I found stuck in my Bible, just now?  Here it is:

xoxoxo

 I didn’t get to say goodnight

so “Goodnight” and “Good morning”

 -- always – Me! –

(I received it 2-5-01 from my daughter Jessica when she was 12!)

Thank you Lord!

Dark days ahead; dark days behind...

Today I sit at my computer wondering what in the world to write.  But everything I read about writing says the same thing.  One must sit down daily and write, anything, or nothing at all, if the muse is not working, but at least make the time and make it regular.  Since I’m very much a routine person, this should be easy for me…but it’s not.  Other things have crowded my plate of  “must-dos”…e.g. I just finished paying bills after having put it off for two days – it’s nothing that can wait, at least if I want my credit rating to remain good…

…which brings me to another subject which has me stewing a bit.  And that’s the national debt ceiling, so much in the news lately.  This shouldn’t be that difficult, especially since President Obama made his original offer something that Republicans in the past would have died for!  But not these Republicans.  No, these Republicans like to play the role of the obstinate two-year-old who says “no” just because he can, who has no other motive than to exert his power.  There can’t be any other reason that the Republican controlled House won’t accept their Speaker’s proposal – from their own party for heaven sakes!

But that’s the problem, the Republican party is really not one party any more.  The so-called “tea party” has taken over this nation – and many states as well – Kansas is one of them.  Kansas politics, however, is fodder for another day’s entry.

It’s getting hard to stomach – this “tyranny” of the rich and few.

Reminds me of another infamous era in our nation’s history –Are we headed for another Depression Era? What will we call it, Depression 2?  As in a movie sequel? Where is democracy? 

Here’s a poem I wrote quite awhile ago centered around the dust bowl time.

Dust Bowl Dirge

Sadistic, it tortures one’s

nerves until erosion

creates craziness.  Days and

nights of howling and hissing

through cracks in doors

and window panes.  Grains

of earth’s surface settle

upon tables and damp cotton tea towels

covering the cribs.  Bleached white

tea towels blackened by persistence. 

No one knows when it will cease or if.

Hope is a fossil, a dinosaur

embedded in the layers of landscape

carried by this cruel wind.

What's in YOUR tummy?

My husband and I are in the midst of learning new ways to eat.  This journey has been going on for the past six months at least, but has recently taken an incredible turn as I've been reading books by Dr. Joel Fuhrman.  He calls himself a "nutritarian" which he defines as someone whose diet consists of nutrient dense foods.  Foods which are nutrient-dense have more nutrients per calorie.  As children most of us were prodded to "eat our vegetables"  Well, it turns out they are the most nutritious foods available!

We have pretty much eliminated processed food from our diet with the exception of a condiment or two and our morning breakfast cereal.  We're also shopping a little differently, staying mostly to the perimeter of the grocery store as most foods in the center aisle are the "toxic-processed" foods.    Dr. Fuhrman espouses an approach that gradually trains our palates to enjoy more nutritious foods.  After years of snacking on junk food, it's hard to be successful with a cold turkey approach. 

Anyway, as a result of the changes we've made,  a little at a time, Bob and I each were rewarded with a positive turn in our most recent bloodwork as well as shedding some pounds!

I'd encourage anyone out there to read any of Dr. Fuhrman's books as his work in nutrition is a culmination years of medical practice and reviewing the a wealth of both past and current research. It's been eye-opening as we are finding we can no longer at the typical American diet without some grief.  There's a reason why we Americans are so fat!  And it has more to do with what we eat than how much we eat or even what kind of exercise we do.

(Hmmm. I wonder if I can get a commission from Dr. Fuhrman for this "sell-job"!) 

Twenty-three years ago!

Twenty-three years ago, I remember very well where I was...in the hospital working on delivering the only child I was blessed to receive.  Happy birthday, Jessica!  One thing I've learned as an aging parent, one never stops worrying about his or her children!  But being a Christian, I know I can rely on the promises of our good and gracious God, that He will always be with this daughter of mine, no matter what the circumstances!

Here are two prayers from Ephesians that I have prayed over the years for those who matter most to me, but primarily for my daughter, especially each year on her birthday.  May these prayers be of encouragement to those of you who are worrying about a loved one.

"I keep asking that the God of our Lord Jesus Christ, the glorious Father, may give you the Spirit of wisdom and revelation, so that you may know him better.  I pray also that the yes of your heart may be enlightened in order that you may know the hope to which he has called you, the riches of his glorious inheritance in the saints, and his incomparably great power for us who believe."
--Ephesians 1: 17 - 19

"I pray thatout of his glorious riches he may strengthen you with power through his Spirit in your inner being, so that Christ may dwell in your hearts through faith.  And I pray that you, being rooted and established in love, may have power, together with all the saints, to grasp how wide and long and high and deep is the love of Christ, and to know this love that surpasses knowledge --that you may be filled to the measure of all the fullness of God. "
--Ephesians 3:16-19

Last week, my husband Bob and I had the opportunity to spend some time with our precious baby granddaughter who happens to be in the NICU at Children's Mercy Hospital in Kansas City.  We stayed at the Ronald McDonald House nearby.  I was truly impressed by both facilities and the level to which the personnel and accommodations of each were child and family-friendly.  Both organizations have children and their families at the heart of their practice.  It was refreshing to be in settings that demonstrated caring and compassionate practices and we can only say, thanks be to God for such places! 

Thanks be to God for the state-of-the-art healthcare that enables infants in difficult situations to receive the very best care available. Thanks be to God for facilities that offer hospitality to families who are wrenched from their homes because their children are facing life-threatening or serious illnesses.  Thanks be to God for people whose generosity allow for such services. Thanks be to God who grants the professionals in the healthcare industry with the skills necessary to offer this top-notch care.

Now, let's pray that this generosity and compassion would extend to all in our nation.  Let's pray that our nation's leaders can get beyond the polarity of politics and behave in a manner that is best for our common interest. 

I know I'm idealistic.  But it can't hurt to pray.

God is in the details

When I was younger, I had this inclination that God had to be "experienced" as an emotional state...as ectasy.  This led me to more charismatic forms of religious expression.  With a high school friend, I remember praying speaking in tongues.  To think of God displaying Himself (or Herself) in the mundane never occurred to me.

Now, in the midst of middle-age, a bit of wisdom (hopefully) has crept into my thinking, and it has become more clear to me that God is more present in the mundane and ordinary events of day-to-day living than in any elicited ectasy.  The problem is that we don't recognize it.  God is invisible to most of us, because we are too worried about details that we think God doesn't care about.

But Jesus says in Matthew 6:25-33 that we are not to worry about the details of day-to-day living...the clothing we wear, the food we wear, and more.  Hard to believe and accept in times of financial distress, tight budgets, increasing health care costs, political bickering that favors the elite and wealthy...how can we NOT be worried about tomorrow?  But that's the point; God IS in the details...if we attend to even the smallest things in our lives as embodying the essence, the loving care of God, He helps us notice how often He really is there for us.

That's been my experience, anyway.  Call me a "Pollyanna"...I prefer to be called a believer.  Now just remind me of that the next time I start grumbling about the details...tomorrow!

 ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A few years back, we were at a resort near San Antonio...the weather and surroundings were beautiful and inspired the following "list" poem (one of many of my unfinished poems that hasn't yet been christened with a title!):

Lord, I feel Your presence in the details:
the smell of this morning's breath,
  so crisp and fresh one can almost hear it.
and tiny tufts of grassy growth embedded
  in the cracked bark of the Live Oak tree.
The feathers of a hedge's foliage,
   unnoticed by most;
the shivery sharp needles on a prickly pear, 
  each one daring me to touch it and feel its power.
The passage of wasp from leaf to leaf in search of
  bloom that isn't there.
The falling of a tiny leaf along with its sisters
  to their scattered fate atop the wooden porch.
The pansy faces gazing from the flower bed.
Tiny specifics reveal the Presence of a God
  too large, too loving, too lavish,
 to be contained in generalities.

One of the gifts of photography is that a precious moment can live forever in your presence. I am very fortunate to be living a life full of precious moments. And many of those moments were captured by camera. But in today's world of social networking and internet access, photos often become a record of the inane, better left forgotten moments. Take a look at some of the photos on Facebook and you'll see exactly what I mean.

I wanted to upload one of my favorite photos to this blog, but because it was taken before the instant, digital age, I had to scan it. Technology doesn't always perform in the ways promised, and as a result, I have no photo to share with you; but I have a poem which I wrote a couple of summers ago about the photo. And that might be better in some ways, because even though "a photo is worth a 1000 words", there are times when words do a better job of interacting with each individual spirit. Here's the poem and only my daughter and husband will know to which photo I refer.


Still Life

But for one photo, it is empty.
A gift from a long-ago friend
upon returning from China.

The circular window in the center 
of its wooden cover reveals a delicate
ink drawing: a teapot, two teacups
and a plate of noodles.  Hospitality.
Chinese characters rest above the drawing,
their meaning unknown to me.

I've moved it--always empty--from desk, 
to shelf, to table, to shelf again
for more than fifteen years.  Now, finally
it claims the one photo:

a color photo taken years ago, of my husband
and our five-year-old daughter--fishing.
His hands over hers lift the rod back behind
their shoulders.  She grits her teeth
in desire to execute the perfect cast.
Though summer, a gray Atlantic looms
behind them, adjoined by a lead-cloud sky.

The photo's only warmth is the life
in the two persons framed:  the loving
hands of this tending father, the spirited energy
of this young daughter.  The life in the photo
enough to fill the entire photo album.  

While walking this morning, I was lost in thought regarding a recent event in my life. I was nearly half-way through my regular route upon realizing, with the exception of looking up when crossing the streets, I had been focused only on the road in front of me. Usually I take at least momentary glances at my surroundings. So, in the midst of this awareness, I decided to look up--one can see things otherwise missed by most, just by looking up! And this was no exception. For straight above me perched on the street lamppost was a Mississippi Kite (a smaller bird of prey that is prevalent in this area, particularly during the spring and summer months). There it roosted, as regal as a king on his throne, surveying his kingdom below (of which I was part!) Kites are really beautiful birds, in my opinion, with snowy white heads atop a coat of stone gray feathers. Once again, I marveled at how much I miss, simply by not looking up more often.

It's providential, then, that the first scripture my daily devotion book cited this morning, happened to be the first two verses of Psalm 121 which reminds us of the most important reason we need to look up: "I lift up my eyes to the hills--where does my help come from? My help comes from the Lord, the Maker of heaven and earth." Thanks be to God!

Independence?

When I go on my morning walks, I take the same route of about 3 miles. While there is a lot of "sameness" to the route, there is always something new to attend to, if one is paying attention. But today, my eyes caught something that wasn't new; the yellow flags stating "Don't Tread on Me" at two different residences. It got me thinking with Independence Day coming up, how ironic the Tea Party's mantra has come to be. We are seeing how "faithful" the recently elected Republican governors--most through the efforts of the tea party "grassroots"-- have been to that concept. How is that "Don't Tread on Me" concept working in those states?

Stripping workers of their rights to collectively bargain; stripping women of their constitutional right to manage their own wombs; forcing government workers to participate in drug testing; the list goes on.

I don't see it. But maybe I'm missing the "fine print" on those flags: Don't Tread on Me "while I stomp all over you."


Had a another thought while walking that might be fodder for a good poem at some point.

Everyone's for the working man;
But nobody's working on his behalf
I sense a lie in the telling.