excerpt from Phyllis Tickle's book What the Land Already Knows.
It was 1980 and two Sundays before Christmas--the Virgin's Sunday, the Sunday of the pink candle that was waiting downstairs in the Advent wreath for me to come and light it. Earnest pleas were already coming up the stairwell. "Come on, Mama. Please come on and light it." What the voices did not understand--what I myself had not understood until only a few moments before and could not for the life of me have explained to them that morning--was that every Advent, by lighting Mary's candle, I also light that quiet place where my femaleness enters Christmas.
In the weak December light of that cold morning, our double bed sat in front of the bedroom's big windows, a disheaveled wad of blankets and quilts, a sea of wrinkles still warm from our bodies. As always, I began by removing the pillows to fluff them and pulling the bottom sheet taut again. I had folded back the covers to air, my hands moving in and out of the night's warmth and a life's memories. For twenty-five years we had slept there. We had conceived nine children on that bed and had brought seven of them to birth. Here I had always rested afterwards. And here they continued to join us in the morning, cold bare feet and knobby little knees hammering, innocent as Oedipus, against our mystery.
A shuttle of clouds blew over the lemony sun outside, and the gray pattern swam across the exposed sheets, moved up the bedroom wall, and disappeared on the ceiling. The wind was too cold that day, and I drew the drapes shut, blocking both the light and the cold for a while longer.
So it began again, the dying of our year. The long nights I yearned toward; the stripped trees and tan grasses; the graying of the sun. I tied a red ribbon around the lamp on the dresser, knowing that in a little while one of the children would bring a pinecone or a holly branch in from the field and slip it through the ribbon without my asking.
It was not quite two full weeks to the holy night; the children were waiting, and I had much to do. It was then that I first realized that I wanted to--in fact, had to-- pully the covers back up and smooth the spread before I could light the candle to which their voices were calling me. It was then that I at last perceived the pattern within my Christmas self. Always here, in this
place of beginnings, was my center, the order of my Advent days. This, first, must be right. A pillow or two set just so and then, on top of those, the special pillow that says Noel: "Birth". All over the world this fortnight people would wish each other birth; I would do it here.
***
And to you, my dear blog friends, I wish you birth! Noel!
Sunday, December 24, 2006
Monday, December 18, 2006
Christmas Meme?
1. Egg nog or Hot Chocolate?
Both! Especially if they are homemade.
2. Does Santa wrap presents or just sit them under the tree?
strange question. Traditionally speaking I thought Santa was in the business of stuffing stockings. anyway, wouldn't he have elves to help him with the wrapping?
3. Colored lights on tree/house or white?
This year our tree has white lights and there are no lights outside (last year there were colored lights outside but Pete didn't want to fuss with them this year - I don't blame him.)
4. Do you hang mistletoe?
No.
5. When do you put your decorations up?
Usually the weekend after Thanksgiving but this year it was a week later.
6. What is your favorite holiday dish?
Hmmm. tough one. I'm going to cheat and name two: lefse and swedish meatballs
7. Favorite Holiday memory as a child.
Seeing our Christmas tree with it's large bulb lights.
8. When and how did you learn the truth about Santa?
I don't know. I had older siblings - they spilled the beans while I was young.
9. Do you open a gift on Christmas eve?
Pete's family opens all of their gifts on Christmas eve. Pete and I open gifts with our kids on Christmas morn.
10. How do you decorate your Christmas tree?
In years past we have had two trees: one with all the misc. collected ornaments and multicolored lights, and one with a theme. This year we only have the themed tree which is so pretty. It has white lights and old fashioned glass ornaments in hot pink, green and aqua. It has a glass beaded garland, glittered pine cones, mica dusted nuts and sparkly birds.
11. Snow! Love it or dread it?
I'm dreaming of a white Christmas...
12. Can you ice skate?
nope.
13. Do you remember your favorite gift?
One year mom made Holly Hobbie dolls for myself and each of my sisters. She also made doll cradles with mattresses and blankets.
14. What is the most important thing about the Holidays for you?
Wonder and delight.
15. What is your favorite Holiday dessert?
Iced butter cookies. yummm!
16. What is your favorite Holiday tradition?
A simple meal of soup (oyster stew and a few others) and bread followed by gift opening on Christmas eve.
17. What tops your tree?
This year it's a sparkly peacock. ha!
18. Which do you prefer giving or receiving?
it's a toss up.
19. What is your favorite Christmas song?
I'm with Jan on this one: Oh Come, Oh Come, Emmanuel. I loved singing that at night in the Crown College chapel.
20. Candy Canes! Yuck or Yum?
Ho hum.
tonya, erin, pearl, jaime? up for a doing your Christmas meme? (what's a meme?)
Both! Especially if they are homemade.
2. Does Santa wrap presents or just sit them under the tree?
strange question. Traditionally speaking I thought Santa was in the business of stuffing stockings. anyway, wouldn't he have elves to help him with the wrapping?
3. Colored lights on tree/house or white?
This year our tree has white lights and there are no lights outside (last year there were colored lights outside but Pete didn't want to fuss with them this year - I don't blame him.)
4. Do you hang mistletoe?
No.
5. When do you put your decorations up?
Usually the weekend after Thanksgiving but this year it was a week later.
6. What is your favorite holiday dish?
Hmmm. tough one. I'm going to cheat and name two: lefse and swedish meatballs
7. Favorite Holiday memory as a child.
Seeing our Christmas tree with it's large bulb lights.
8. When and how did you learn the truth about Santa?
I don't know. I had older siblings - they spilled the beans while I was young.
9. Do you open a gift on Christmas eve?
Pete's family opens all of their gifts on Christmas eve. Pete and I open gifts with our kids on Christmas morn.
10. How do you decorate your Christmas tree?
In years past we have had two trees: one with all the misc. collected ornaments and multicolored lights, and one with a theme. This year we only have the themed tree which is so pretty. It has white lights and old fashioned glass ornaments in hot pink, green and aqua. It has a glass beaded garland, glittered pine cones, mica dusted nuts and sparkly birds.
11. Snow! Love it or dread it?
I'm dreaming of a white Christmas...
12. Can you ice skate?
nope.
13. Do you remember your favorite gift?
One year mom made Holly Hobbie dolls for myself and each of my sisters. She also made doll cradles with mattresses and blankets.
14. What is the most important thing about the Holidays for you?
Wonder and delight.
15. What is your favorite Holiday dessert?
Iced butter cookies. yummm!
16. What is your favorite Holiday tradition?
A simple meal of soup (oyster stew and a few others) and bread followed by gift opening on Christmas eve.
17. What tops your tree?
This year it's a sparkly peacock. ha!
18. Which do you prefer giving or receiving?
it's a toss up.
19. What is your favorite Christmas song?
I'm with Jan on this one: Oh Come, Oh Come, Emmanuel. I loved singing that at night in the Crown College chapel.
20. Candy Canes! Yuck or Yum?
Ho hum.
tonya, erin, pearl, jaime? up for a doing your Christmas meme? (what's a meme?)
Monday, November 20, 2006
my roses
I've put the roses to bed for the winter. I'm hoping they will grace me with their company again next summer. Till then I thought I would share with you a few photos I took of their pretty faces.
the first is Heritage, the second Charlotte, and the third Abraham Darby.
the first is Heritage, the second Charlotte, and the third Abraham Darby.
Friday, November 17, 2006
Happy Birthday Sweet Baby!
Dear, Sweet Talia,
Seriously! Where did the year go? I knew it would fly by. I soaked up every moment I could, breathing you in, hoping to impress the sweetness upon my memory. I so enjoyed this busy and difficult year. One last chance at raising an infant (at least that's the plan!). You have been our delight. It doubles my pleasure to see your brother and sister enjoying you as much as your Dad and I do. You are a gift. Happy Birthday Baby Girl!
from this:
to this:
to this:
yummy!
(Oh! and take a look at the perfect posers at the apple orchard!)
lovely!
Seriously! Where did the year go? I knew it would fly by. I soaked up every moment I could, breathing you in, hoping to impress the sweetness upon my memory. I so enjoyed this busy and difficult year. One last chance at raising an infant (at least that's the plan!). You have been our delight. It doubles my pleasure to see your brother and sister enjoying you as much as your Dad and I do. You are a gift. Happy Birthday Baby Girl!
from this:
to this:
to this:
yummy!
(Oh! and take a look at the perfect posers at the apple orchard!)
lovely!
Wednesday, November 08, 2006
here tonight
I came down here tonight to write a quick blog... but I can't think of what it was I wanted to say. Many times during a day I think, "Oh, that would be good to blog!" but then I forget. Perhaps I need to keep a little blog journal with me.
Anyway, I did get a chance to catch up with a number of my blog friends and that was lovely. I hope that you know you are loved and that I am sending you wishes for the sweetest nights sleep.
Anyway, I did get a chance to catch up with a number of my blog friends and that was lovely. I hope that you know you are loved and that I am sending you wishes for the sweetest nights sleep.
Thursday, October 26, 2006
God of justice, God of mercy, bless all those who are surprised with pain this day from suffering caused by their own weakness or that of others. Let what we suffer teach us to be merciful; let our sins teach us to forgive. This I ask through the intercession of Jesus and all who died forgiving those who oppressed them. Amen.
from The Divine Hours, pg.116
from The Divine Hours, pg.116
Saturday, October 07, 2006
friday night
new friends
dinner
prayer
apple rum dum (is that how you spell it?)
windy bonfire
a scary story
moonlight and shadows
GOOD Night!
dinner
prayer
apple rum dum (is that how you spell it?)
windy bonfire
a scary story
moonlight and shadows
GOOD Night!
Thursday, October 05, 2006
Defensiveness
"Nevertheless, I would advise you against defensiveness on principle. It precludes the best eventualities along with the worst. As the most basic level, it expresses a lack of faith. As I have said, the worst eventualities can have great value as experience. And often enough, when we think we are protecting ourselves, we are struggling against our rescuer. I know this, I have seen the truth of it with my own eyes, though I have not myself always managed to live by it, the Good Lord knows. I truly doubt I would know how to live by it for even a day, or an hour. That is a remarkable thing to consider."
--From Gilead by Marilynne Robinson
bold added by me.
I was feeling depressed the other day, sad about many things. I began to ask God into my grief. As I did so I said, "Here is my grief. It is your own." I'm not sure if those words were mine or if he gave them to me. Immediately I began to wonder about God and his grief. I remember asking him, "Are you grieved today?" And I began to wonder if I feel grief when he is feeling grief - if perhaps joy, sadness, hope, and grief are shared.
I know that God asks me to share my heart with him, in the gladness and in the sadness. But maybe he shares his heart with me as well. Perhaps what I feel isn't mine alone.
My grief was transformed with these thoughts. I felt beautiful in it. I know those words don't add up but they seem to describe it best.
I often fight my grief. Trying somehow to defend myself from it, to rise above, to defeat it. This quote speaks to that wasted effort. It helps me cease my striving. And it humbles me. I see how small my faith is. Yes, it is a remarkable thing to consider.
--From Gilead by Marilynne Robinson
bold added by me.
I was feeling depressed the other day, sad about many things. I began to ask God into my grief. As I did so I said, "Here is my grief. It is your own." I'm not sure if those words were mine or if he gave them to me. Immediately I began to wonder about God and his grief. I remember asking him, "Are you grieved today?" And I began to wonder if I feel grief when he is feeling grief - if perhaps joy, sadness, hope, and grief are shared.
I know that God asks me to share my heart with him, in the gladness and in the sadness. But maybe he shares his heart with me as well. Perhaps what I feel isn't mine alone.
My grief was transformed with these thoughts. I felt beautiful in it. I know those words don't add up but they seem to describe it best.
I often fight my grief. Trying somehow to defend myself from it, to rise above, to defeat it. This quote speaks to that wasted effort. It helps me cease my striving. And it humbles me. I see how small my faith is. Yes, it is a remarkable thing to consider.
"The rigorous demands of true friendship, the gift of oneself, one's time, one's preferences, the nakedness and honesty, are beyond the price many are willing to pay--those who have not yet experienced what is purchased by such a price. Anyone who has been graced with true friendship knows the cost and knows the worth."
--From A Place Apart by M. Basil Pennington
--From A Place Apart by M. Basil Pennington
Tuesday, September 05, 2006
quote from book on loan
Sometimes I have loved the peacefulness of an ordinary Sunday. It is like standing in a newly planted garden after a warm rain. You can feel the silent and invisible life. All it needs from you is that you take care not to trample on it.
from Gilead by Marilynne Robinson
from Gilead by Marilynne Robinson
Monday, July 17, 2006
The lowdown
Roses
I am pleased to report that the roses are doing great. Six of seven have bloomed repeatedly, and continue to do so. The seventh is growing but is still quite small. Abraham Darby is my favorite. He full, lush, quartered and fragrant. Livy and Gunnar decided that he smells like raspberry lemonade. Charlotte is coy. Heritage is delicate. Glamis Castle is white and fluffy with a small pink center - it reminds me of a baby nipple. (weird but true). L.D. Braithwaite is a bit disappointing... but I'll wait and see if he grows on me.
It is delightful to have cut roses around the house. I share them with the neighbors too - that's fun.
Herman the Cat
Friday evening we took Herman in to be put to sleep. Very sad. Pete and I adopted Herman 13 years ago. We weren't yet married, the cat was really Pete's. I thought we should name him Sir Edmund Shakelton - we'd been watching a documentary on PBS. Pete decide to name him after me (my maiden name is Herrmann). Herman was a lovely cat, charcoal grey with yellow eyes. He was gentle with us, never scratching or biting. When we got married Herman had to share us with Asha - the cat I brought into the mix. They never did love each other much. Hermie liked to chase her down and rip out a hunk of fur. Bad kitty! Both of those cats loved to tip over containers of water whenever they could. Just forget about setting out a vase of flowers! But Herman in particular loved water. You had to watch him closely or he would sneak into the shower with you. Most of his life Herman was fat. But that past couple of years he got scary-skinny. Then he began to pull out his own fur (maybe he missed Asha). He hasn't been well. Friday morning I discovered that he'd peed in Talia's closet... and there went the camel's back. Time to say goodbye.
For the first time since 1992 I am without a cat. To tell the truth, I couldn't be happier. With two kids, a baby, a dog, a hamster and a fish, one less being to care for seems like a blessing. No more spilled milk, spilled water, tipped-over flowers. No more stepping into the laundry room and finding cat litter stuck to the bottom of my feet. No more cat puke in the hallway, bathroom, foyer, etc. No more chunks of fur on the steps right after I've vaccuumed. No more meowing at 5 am. No more stinky cat food. No more litter boxes to empty. Yes.
Cherries
We picked a pail of sour cherries off of mom and dad's tree before they moved. That pail has been sitting in the downstairs fridge for a couple of weeks. I decided I needed to take action before it all turned to compost fodder. As I washed and sorted the cherries I decided that pitting them all seemed like too much work. Sour cherries are quite a bit smaller than sweet cherries and pitting is a messy, long job. (But I was tempted because I so adore sour cherry pie!) So I put the cherries in a big pot and chopped at them with our industrial strength pastry blender. Then I cooked them on low for a bit to loosen the juice. I let them drain through a couple layers of cheese cloth for a few hours and then I collected the juice. This morning I boiled the juice, added sugar and boiled it all again for 5 minutes. I was aiming for sour cherry syrup. I think it will actually be closer to jelly. But it tastes like intense sour cherry candy - luscious!
Other than that life here is filled with the mundane activities that keep a family of 5 fed, clothed, clean, and loved. (Gunnar just came down from bath time with a dry head - I sent him back.) I hope you are well fed, clothed, clean and loved too.
I am pleased to report that the roses are doing great. Six of seven have bloomed repeatedly, and continue to do so. The seventh is growing but is still quite small. Abraham Darby is my favorite. He full, lush, quartered and fragrant. Livy and Gunnar decided that he smells like raspberry lemonade. Charlotte is coy. Heritage is delicate. Glamis Castle is white and fluffy with a small pink center - it reminds me of a baby nipple. (weird but true). L.D. Braithwaite is a bit disappointing... but I'll wait and see if he grows on me.
It is delightful to have cut roses around the house. I share them with the neighbors too - that's fun.
Herman the Cat
Friday evening we took Herman in to be put to sleep. Very sad. Pete and I adopted Herman 13 years ago. We weren't yet married, the cat was really Pete's. I thought we should name him Sir Edmund Shakelton - we'd been watching a documentary on PBS. Pete decide to name him after me (my maiden name is Herrmann). Herman was a lovely cat, charcoal grey with yellow eyes. He was gentle with us, never scratching or biting. When we got married Herman had to share us with Asha - the cat I brought into the mix. They never did love each other much. Hermie liked to chase her down and rip out a hunk of fur. Bad kitty! Both of those cats loved to tip over containers of water whenever they could. Just forget about setting out a vase of flowers! But Herman in particular loved water. You had to watch him closely or he would sneak into the shower with you. Most of his life Herman was fat. But that past couple of years he got scary-skinny. Then he began to pull out his own fur (maybe he missed Asha). He hasn't been well. Friday morning I discovered that he'd peed in Talia's closet... and there went the camel's back. Time to say goodbye.
For the first time since 1992 I am without a cat. To tell the truth, I couldn't be happier. With two kids, a baby, a dog, a hamster and a fish, one less being to care for seems like a blessing. No more spilled milk, spilled water, tipped-over flowers. No more stepping into the laundry room and finding cat litter stuck to the bottom of my feet. No more cat puke in the hallway, bathroom, foyer, etc. No more chunks of fur on the steps right after I've vaccuumed. No more meowing at 5 am. No more stinky cat food. No more litter boxes to empty. Yes.
Cherries
We picked a pail of sour cherries off of mom and dad's tree before they moved. That pail has been sitting in the downstairs fridge for a couple of weeks. I decided I needed to take action before it all turned to compost fodder. As I washed and sorted the cherries I decided that pitting them all seemed like too much work. Sour cherries are quite a bit smaller than sweet cherries and pitting is a messy, long job. (But I was tempted because I so adore sour cherry pie!) So I put the cherries in a big pot and chopped at them with our industrial strength pastry blender. Then I cooked them on low for a bit to loosen the juice. I let them drain through a couple layers of cheese cloth for a few hours and then I collected the juice. This morning I boiled the juice, added sugar and boiled it all again for 5 minutes. I was aiming for sour cherry syrup. I think it will actually be closer to jelly. But it tastes like intense sour cherry candy - luscious!
Other than that life here is filled with the mundane activities that keep a family of 5 fed, clothed, clean, and loved. (Gunnar just came down from bath time with a dry head - I sent him back.) I hope you are well fed, clothed, clean and loved too.
Thursday, June 22, 2006
midday prayer
God of mercy,
this midday moment of rest
is your welcome gift.
Bless the work we have begun,
and make good its defects
and let us finish it in a way that pleases you.
Grant this through Christ our Lord.
The Liturgy of the Hours, Vol. III
this midday moment of rest
is your welcome gift.
Bless the work we have begun,
and make good its defects
and let us finish it in a way that pleases you.
Grant this through Christ our Lord.
The Liturgy of the Hours, Vol. III
Monday, June 19, 2006
sweet fragrance
I am searching for a suitable analogy for what I experienced yesterday. Abbey Way gathered together yesterday morning as we usually do on Sunday morning. This time we met in our back yard under the maple trees. The air was fresh and cool. We were surrounded by green. It was lovely. But lovelier still was the sweet affection that was blooming among us. Affection. Much of the community was together on Saturday for the New Monastic Workshop. But a few of us were unable to be there... and we were missed. ...and they told us so.
Wikipedia says:
Affection: literally, a mental state resulting generally from an external influence. It is popularly used of a relation between persons amounting to more than goodwill or friendship.
That's lovely. We have committed ourselves to this "shared life" without even knowing the others joining us for the journey. Yet our common desire for God supports and enfold us. What rich soil we have to grow in! Only the first few flowers have bloomed but what a lovely fragrance they give.
Wikipedia says:
Affection: literally, a mental state resulting generally from an external influence. It is popularly used of a relation between persons amounting to more than goodwill or friendship.
That's lovely. We have committed ourselves to this "shared life" without even knowing the others joining us for the journey. Yet our common desire for God supports and enfold us. What rich soil we have to grow in! Only the first few flowers have bloomed but what a lovely fragrance they give.
Tuesday, June 06, 2006
new reads
I just picked up three new books from the thrift store: Memoirs of a Geisha, Bridget Jones's Diary, and The Bondwoman's Narrative.
I am so excited to be reading something that is not specifically about spiritual/church/God nor dysfunctional families. Ah! It's like going on vacation!
I am so excited to be reading something that is not specifically about spiritual/church/God nor dysfunctional families. Ah! It's like going on vacation!
Thursday, May 04, 2006
So shall I turn
You strengthen me more and more; you enfold and comfort me.
Psalm 71:21
I've been going through the Boundaries book for a year or so. Recently I've been reading Narcissistic Family.
This journey has been:
good
painful
horrible
beautiful
awakening
painful
enlightening
strengthening
loving
courageous
painful
hopeful
Certain days (today) I want to run away. I want to nap all day and see no one for eons. I want to escape.
I've been awakened. I have become aware. I am learning to be with myself. In so doing I feel pain. I desperately want to alleviate the pain, the anxiety. I look to the old ways - food, TV, spending, computer games - they do not do a very good job.
Yet, I feel that I want to congratulate myself for using food, TV, spending, games to numb myself, to cope. That was a resourceful thing to do. Those were the options that were available to me. Thing is, now I want to leave them - turn instead to other helpers. And more than that I want to get healing for the underlying issues. The old ways only worked to mask the pain that issued from the interior wound - they had no positive effect upon the wound itself.
What will heal me?
Open, Lord, my eyes that I may see.
Open, Lord, my ears that I may hear.
Open, Lord my heart and my mind that I may understand.
So shall I turn to you and be healed.
traditional prayer
Psalm 71:21
I've been going through the Boundaries book for a year or so. Recently I've been reading Narcissistic Family.
This journey has been:
good
painful
horrible
beautiful
awakening
painful
enlightening
strengthening
loving
courageous
painful
hopeful
Certain days (today) I want to run away. I want to nap all day and see no one for eons. I want to escape.
I've been awakened. I have become aware. I am learning to be with myself. In so doing I feel pain. I desperately want to alleviate the pain, the anxiety. I look to the old ways - food, TV, spending, computer games - they do not do a very good job.
Yet, I feel that I want to congratulate myself for using food, TV, spending, games to numb myself, to cope. That was a resourceful thing to do. Those were the options that were available to me. Thing is, now I want to leave them - turn instead to other helpers. And more than that I want to get healing for the underlying issues. The old ways only worked to mask the pain that issued from the interior wound - they had no positive effect upon the wound itself.
What will heal me?
Open, Lord, my eyes that I may see.
Open, Lord, my ears that I may hear.
Open, Lord my heart and my mind that I may understand.
So shall I turn to you and be healed.
traditional prayer
Thursday, April 20, 2006
The other new ones
Here are the other English Roses I'm planting. They will all look this fantastic I'm sure!
Wednesday, April 19, 2006
I'm in love with Abraham Darby
No, not the industrial revolutionary! The rose, silly! The rose pictured above is a David Austin English Rose named Abraham Darby. Lovely, no? Pete has agreed to help me dig up the landscape rocks and rip out the evergreen bushes. Then we will improve the soil. All to get ready for the arrival of the new rose bushes. I've been dreaming of doing this for 3 or 4 years. I've never grown roses so I really don't know what I'm doing. To make matters worse five out of the seven roses I've ordered are these English Roses which are technically hardy only to zone 5 (we are zone 4). I'm hoping they make it through our nasty winters. But when I have a chance to grow roses as beautiful as Abraham Darby... seriously, I couldn't resist.
Thursday, March 30, 2006
reticence
This blog has been a long time coming. And it will be long in the telling as well. To begin I need to go back my journal entry of August 27, 2005. Here are some exerpts:
O.K. Here's the deal. Finding Open Door was like finding safe haven. [I began coming to Church of the Open Door in the fall of 1990.] I had found a place that allowed me to enter many places that were previously off limits, not allowed. Freedom. I began to grow. Stinky, rotten spots began to get necessary attention and healing. As I grew I walked further down new paths of grace, healing , spirit life, kingdom life.
In the Fall of 2003 I went to a spiritual direction information meeting. I was drawn to it by the vague, mysterious words printed in the bulletin. That evening and that year of being in a spiritual direction group felt like coming home, or unexpectedly finding a hidden treasure. What a strange and beautiful thing hidden in this tiny corner of Open Door. It seemed to me like a new way of community, the way I'd been wanting.
In the Fall of 2004 I led a spiritual direction group and entered the class. My world, my God, my sight seemed to explode with newness, bigness, new understanding. It was all more than I could soak up, better than I'd ever dreamed. Hard, good, challenging, freeing. Look back. What a long we've come! The spiritual direction community has become dear to me, my family.
And now... what?
uncertainty - does Open Door still value spiritual direction? or was that something Jan held?
sadness - this is simply where my heart is, where my passion and hope lie.
I can't help feeling overwhelming love and gratitude to God and to Open Door for all this church has been to me for the past 15 years. I so hope and pray that God continues to move in and through them. May His Kindgom come. May we become the cooperative body of Christ. But as for me...?
I'm not sure. If spiritual direction, meditation, holy listening, new monastic remains as something important to Open Door... would I stay? I feel as if we've lost our shepherd. Jan spoke a different language than most, or all of us. Without her we would need other "foreign" tongues. We come from an unbalanced tradition that is heavy on head knowledge and the preached word. I feel desirous for entering into and experiencing new/different ways of knowing God. Who at Open Door can lead me in to that? And even if Open Door does continue a spiritual direction community I wonder about experiencing the new way/new thing with Jan. I love her shepherd/pastor heart. I want community in this new way. I want to enter in to transformation - 'cause this new thing will call it out.
But I will so miss this church that I love.
Grief.
[Then I read from Open Door's Kingdom Next publication]
"From 1993-2003 was a season of pioneering uncharted land for a permanent home."
When I first read that I said to myself, "No they weren't! We were church of the Open Sore. We were all crying in the bleachers." But it seemed you said, "Take another look."
"From 1993-2003 was a season of pioneering uncharted land for a permanent home."
I've been speaking of paths and land and finding home - I just always assumed it was at Open Door.
"We are now in a new season which began in 2003 as occupiers of our new home."
What!?! that's when I 'came home' to spiritual direction!
"Each season requires a leadership structure to meet the needs of the organization. While the former leadership structures suited us well, we've simply outgrown them. Corporately, our needs changed when we moved from renters to owners to occupiers."
Holy God, I know these words were written with different intentions but I see you in them, my own story in them, this new church in them.
"Now that we are occupiers, it's time to rebuild the church inside the building. We are in a time of transition and adjustment for where we are going in the long term."
"All of this speaks to where we believe God is calling us to go and who we believe God is calling us to be. We might not be there yet, but it's where we want to go, and it's where we think we are headed."
I knew right then that I had a 'yes' to Jan and Bob's new venture. I held these words and thoughts in my heart until Pete had his own time of discernment. Pete also came up with a 'yes' -- so since then we've been holding our hope, joy, grief, and tension.
But now, it's time to move. Our last time at Open Door as a family will be Good Friday. (I will still have some spiritual direction meetings to attend.) We still have two more Sundays at Open Door. You will find me blubbering in the back, right section of the sanctuary, 9 am service. Stop by for a hug and a farewell. Bring tissues. Saying goodbye to this dear place is heart wrenching. Seeing many that I know, that I have served with, many that I love... it's bitter sweet.
It's lovely having this place of connection, this blog-land. Most of you here in blog land are not people I knew through Open Door - even if you attended there. I'm glad for that just now.
Thanks for reading.
gloria
O.K. Here's the deal. Finding Open Door was like finding safe haven. [I began coming to Church of the Open Door in the fall of 1990.] I had found a place that allowed me to enter many places that were previously off limits, not allowed. Freedom. I began to grow. Stinky, rotten spots began to get necessary attention and healing. As I grew I walked further down new paths of grace, healing , spirit life, kingdom life.
In the Fall of 2003 I went to a spiritual direction information meeting. I was drawn to it by the vague, mysterious words printed in the bulletin. That evening and that year of being in a spiritual direction group felt like coming home, or unexpectedly finding a hidden treasure. What a strange and beautiful thing hidden in this tiny corner of Open Door. It seemed to me like a new way of community, the way I'd been wanting.
In the Fall of 2004 I led a spiritual direction group and entered the class. My world, my God, my sight seemed to explode with newness, bigness, new understanding. It was all more than I could soak up, better than I'd ever dreamed. Hard, good, challenging, freeing. Look back. What a long we've come! The spiritual direction community has become dear to me, my family.
And now... what?
uncertainty - does Open Door still value spiritual direction? or was that something Jan held?
sadness - this is simply where my heart is, where my passion and hope lie.
I can't help feeling overwhelming love and gratitude to God and to Open Door for all this church has been to me for the past 15 years. I so hope and pray that God continues to move in and through them. May His Kindgom come. May we become the cooperative body of Christ. But as for me...?
I'm not sure. If spiritual direction, meditation, holy listening, new monastic remains as something important to Open Door... would I stay? I feel as if we've lost our shepherd. Jan spoke a different language than most, or all of us. Without her we would need other "foreign" tongues. We come from an unbalanced tradition that is heavy on head knowledge and the preached word. I feel desirous for entering into and experiencing new/different ways of knowing God. Who at Open Door can lead me in to that? And even if Open Door does continue a spiritual direction community I wonder about experiencing the new way/new thing with Jan. I love her shepherd/pastor heart. I want community in this new way. I want to enter in to transformation - 'cause this new thing will call it out.
But I will so miss this church that I love.
Grief.
[Then I read from Open Door's Kingdom Next publication]
"From 1993-2003 was a season of pioneering uncharted land for a permanent home."
When I first read that I said to myself, "No they weren't! We were church of the Open Sore. We were all crying in the bleachers." But it seemed you said, "Take another look."
"From 1993-2003 was a season of pioneering uncharted land for a permanent home."
I've been speaking of paths and land and finding home - I just always assumed it was at Open Door.
"We are now in a new season which began in 2003 as occupiers of our new home."
What!?! that's when I 'came home' to spiritual direction!
"Each season requires a leadership structure to meet the needs of the organization. While the former leadership structures suited us well, we've simply outgrown them. Corporately, our needs changed when we moved from renters to owners to occupiers."
Holy God, I know these words were written with different intentions but I see you in them, my own story in them, this new church in them.
"Now that we are occupiers, it's time to rebuild the church inside the building. We are in a time of transition and adjustment for where we are going in the long term."
"All of this speaks to where we believe God is calling us to go and who we believe God is calling us to be. We might not be there yet, but it's where we want to go, and it's where we think we are headed."
I knew right then that I had a 'yes' to Jan and Bob's new venture. I held these words and thoughts in my heart until Pete had his own time of discernment. Pete also came up with a 'yes' -- so since then we've been holding our hope, joy, grief, and tension.
But now, it's time to move. Our last time at Open Door as a family will be Good Friday. (I will still have some spiritual direction meetings to attend.) We still have two more Sundays at Open Door. You will find me blubbering in the back, right section of the sanctuary, 9 am service. Stop by for a hug and a farewell. Bring tissues. Saying goodbye to this dear place is heart wrenching. Seeing many that I know, that I have served with, many that I love... it's bitter sweet.
It's lovely having this place of connection, this blog-land. Most of you here in blog land are not people I knew through Open Door - even if you attended there. I'm glad for that just now.
Thanks for reading.
gloria
Tuesday, March 28, 2006
Seeking to trust
"In spiritual direction... the Holy Spirit continues to function and be perceived as both the teacher and the source of grace and power. We remain dependent on grace, seek to cooperate with the Spirit, and resist any illusions about our ability to be our true selves without God's help. Intentionally giving our attention to God is both the beginning and the end goal of spiritual dirction. We are not seeking change per se. We are seeking God, seeking fuller communion with the Holy Spirit, and seeking to trust God for and in whatever unfolds."
Jeannette Bakke ~ Holy Invitations
(bold added by me)
As it is with spiritual direction, let it be with all of my life... seeking to trust God for and in whatever unfolds.
Jeannette Bakke ~ Holy Invitations
(bold added by me)
As it is with spiritual direction, let it be with all of my life... seeking to trust God for and in whatever unfolds.
Thursday, March 09, 2006
blog-worthy? you decide
I've been away for a while. I just don't feel I'm coming up with anything blog-worthy. I decided I would give you a few bits of my day.
1. I really like feeding Tally. I mix up a bottle of formula and then go into her room. If she's awake then I say, "Hello!" in a high pitched, baby friendly way. I am awarded with a wrinkled nose, curled tongue, wide mouthed, dimpled face, amazing smile. It makes my day. Then we snuggle up in the old lime green, velveteen chair, adding the pink chenille pillow for support. It is pure delight to hold close this warm and wiggly baby. Unless another family member joins us, it's usually quiet. It's her and me, snuggled close. Mmmm. Yummy!
2. Today at breakfast time I put on the Blues Brothers soundtrack and entertained Livy and Gunnar with my movements (you might call it dancing). Livy was soon doing her own dancing. I thought, "I should do this crazy music thing more often."
3. Peter hates cilantro. I LOVE it! Passionately. Just the smell of it thrills me. My friend Vonda HATES it. My friend Emily LOVES it. So maybe cilantro is one of those things, like curling your tongue - you either have a gene for it or you don't. ???
1. I really like feeding Tally. I mix up a bottle of formula and then go into her room. If she's awake then I say, "Hello!" in a high pitched, baby friendly way. I am awarded with a wrinkled nose, curled tongue, wide mouthed, dimpled face, amazing smile. It makes my day. Then we snuggle up in the old lime green, velveteen chair, adding the pink chenille pillow for support. It is pure delight to hold close this warm and wiggly baby. Unless another family member joins us, it's usually quiet. It's her and me, snuggled close. Mmmm. Yummy!
2. Today at breakfast time I put on the Blues Brothers soundtrack and entertained Livy and Gunnar with my movements (you might call it dancing). Livy was soon doing her own dancing. I thought, "I should do this crazy music thing more often."
3. Peter hates cilantro. I LOVE it! Passionately. Just the smell of it thrills me. My friend Vonda HATES it. My friend Emily LOVES it. So maybe cilantro is one of those things, like curling your tongue - you either have a gene for it or you don't. ???
Monday, February 27, 2006
goodbye old beast
Last night my lover said to me, "Do you want to wash or dry?"
We are getting a new dishwasher. Pete opted to remove the old one and install the new one himself. We get the new one tomorrow (Tuesday) so Pete decided to remove the old one Saturday - in case of any problems.
We'd washed up all the dirty dishes just before disconnecting the old beast, but by Sunday eve we had a nice pile-up next to the sink. "So, do you want to wash or dry?"
I didn't even know how to start. I kept looking around the kitchen trying to figure out how to begin. Befuddled. Pete suggested rinsing first. OK, rinse! Yes! I rinsed everything that needed it and made large stacks to the right of the sink with overflow going to the table. Pete washed off the counter to the left of the sink. I filled the sink with scalding water and soap, donned the yellow rubber gloves and started with the baby bottles, the glasses and an argument.
Yes, we were arguing. But then we moved on to talk of other things. It was all so strangely familiar -- yet we had not engaged in this activity together for quite a long time. Each place we have lived during our married life together has had a dishwasher. But much of our growing up years we were the disherwasher. Pete's family had a disherwasher for a time when he was eight or so. We got our first dishwasher when I was 16. Pete said that he often did the dishes by himself. I have 3 sisters and 1 brother. Dishwashing was never a solitary time. I remember plenty of soap fights and towel snapping. I'm sure there was singing too. And lots of talking. I had forgotten what this mundane practice made space for.
Pete had to leave for Volleyball before we were finished. As he left he said, "It was nice doing dishes with you." Yes, it was.
~~~
Today I swept out the hole where the dishwasher goes. You can see a bit of the original (1980) vinyl that's under the new (2001) tile. I showed it to Livy and Gunnar. Livy said, "Oh! it's beautiful! It looks like a floor a princess would have!" Huh?! It's brown and tan and highly patterned 70s looking vinyl! Kids are great! I was priming some baseboards this weekend and Gunnar was hoping that the top coat would be red! He wants to paint his bedroom black. They are funny! I really do think they would enjoy living in a rainbow colored house.
~~~
Pete just called and said they will be delivering the new dishwasher tomorrow morning between 7 and 9! Hurrah!
We are getting a new dishwasher. Pete opted to remove the old one and install the new one himself. We get the new one tomorrow (Tuesday) so Pete decided to remove the old one Saturday - in case of any problems.
We'd washed up all the dirty dishes just before disconnecting the old beast, but by Sunday eve we had a nice pile-up next to the sink. "So, do you want to wash or dry?"
I didn't even know how to start. I kept looking around the kitchen trying to figure out how to begin. Befuddled. Pete suggested rinsing first. OK, rinse! Yes! I rinsed everything that needed it and made large stacks to the right of the sink with overflow going to the table. Pete washed off the counter to the left of the sink. I filled the sink with scalding water and soap, donned the yellow rubber gloves and started with the baby bottles, the glasses and an argument.
Yes, we were arguing. But then we moved on to talk of other things. It was all so strangely familiar -- yet we had not engaged in this activity together for quite a long time. Each place we have lived during our married life together has had a dishwasher. But much of our growing up years we were the disherwasher. Pete's family had a disherwasher for a time when he was eight or so. We got our first dishwasher when I was 16. Pete said that he often did the dishes by himself. I have 3 sisters and 1 brother. Dishwashing was never a solitary time. I remember plenty of soap fights and towel snapping. I'm sure there was singing too. And lots of talking. I had forgotten what this mundane practice made space for.
Pete had to leave for Volleyball before we were finished. As he left he said, "It was nice doing dishes with you." Yes, it was.
~~~
Today I swept out the hole where the dishwasher goes. You can see a bit of the original (1980) vinyl that's under the new (2001) tile. I showed it to Livy and Gunnar. Livy said, "Oh! it's beautiful! It looks like a floor a princess would have!" Huh?! It's brown and tan and highly patterned 70s looking vinyl! Kids are great! I was priming some baseboards this weekend and Gunnar was hoping that the top coat would be red! He wants to paint his bedroom black. They are funny! I really do think they would enjoy living in a rainbow colored house.
~~~
Pete just called and said they will be delivering the new dishwasher tomorrow morning between 7 and 9! Hurrah!
Thursday, February 16, 2006
Old photo
My sister Gina recently sent me this photo. She's been converting old slides into digital images. This was taken at Grandma and Grandpa Herrmann's house. You can see the daisies that always grew next to the house. Gina and I are just 13 months apart. I'm the one on the right. We look so different. We used to joke that Mom and Dad found Gina in a ditch and decided to take her home for their own.
Wednesday, February 08, 2006
Wednesday, February 01, 2006
Spiritual Community
On Monday evening I went to the spiritual direction leadership group. It's been nearly 3 months since I was there (maternity leave). The night was filled with the lavish grace of God's presence. It is so sweet when we come together, listen well to each other's stories, meditate on scripture, prayerfully notice where God is at work and wonder together at what might be upcoming. It still surprises me when I see God weave a common thread through all we are hearing, seeing, saying. Oh, I have sooo missed this community. As we closed the evening with prayer I came undone. My heart overflowed with tears. I love this way of being together.
Thursday, January 19, 2006
a heart of gold
Baby is starting to fuss so I don't know how much time I'll have. I often feel as if I'm playing "Concentration" and my time is nearly up.
In my last blog I wrote, "I like to believe that I'm beyond all of this preformance driven pointlessness. These fires have proved that it is not so." Then in my reading I came across this:
I Peter 1:6-7
I know how great this makes you feel, even though you have to put up with every kind of aggravation in the meantime. Pure gold put in the fire comes out of it proved pure; genuine faith put through this suffereing comes out proved genuine. When Jesus wraps this all up, it's your faith, not your gold, that God will have on display as evidence of his victory.
After I read that I realized that I think that my heart is bad. I look at trials as hard times that will reveal my rotten heart. Underneath my surface mask lies immaturity, sin, meanness, faithlessness, anger. Aggravations expose me as a fake, a sinner. They expose my immaturity. At least, that's the belief I've been operating under. No wonder I resist challenges.
But this verse seems to imply something far different. What goes into the fire doesn't come out stinking. It comes out clean, and pure, and refined. Something good is exposed. Now what if I believed that. What if I went into trials, went through trials, looking for the good to be exposed, certain I would find it.
And yet trials do expose my sin and need of Christ. But not only my lack, and perhaps not primarily my lack.
This all reminds me of reading John Eldridge a few years back. He claims that our hearts are good. One Sunday, in my position as usher, I was welcoming those entering the sanctuary. As I looked into those faces my own heart was nearly exploding with joy, "My heart is GOOD! My heart is GOOD!"
Yes, indeed, a heart of pure gold.
In my last blog I wrote, "I like to believe that I'm beyond all of this preformance driven pointlessness. These fires have proved that it is not so." Then in my reading I came across this:
I Peter 1:6-7
I know how great this makes you feel, even though you have to put up with every kind of aggravation in the meantime. Pure gold put in the fire comes out of it proved pure; genuine faith put through this suffereing comes out proved genuine. When Jesus wraps this all up, it's your faith, not your gold, that God will have on display as evidence of his victory.
After I read that I realized that I think that my heart is bad. I look at trials as hard times that will reveal my rotten heart. Underneath my surface mask lies immaturity, sin, meanness, faithlessness, anger. Aggravations expose me as a fake, a sinner. They expose my immaturity. At least, that's the belief I've been operating under. No wonder I resist challenges.
But this verse seems to imply something far different. What goes into the fire doesn't come out stinking. It comes out clean, and pure, and refined. Something good is exposed. Now what if I believed that. What if I went into trials, went through trials, looking for the good to be exposed, certain I would find it.
And yet trials do expose my sin and need of Christ. But not only my lack, and perhaps not primarily my lack.
This all reminds me of reading John Eldridge a few years back. He claims that our hearts are good. One Sunday, in my position as usher, I was welcoming those entering the sanctuary. As I looked into those faces my own heart was nearly exploding with joy, "My heart is GOOD! My heart is GOOD!"
Yes, indeed, a heart of pure gold.
Monday, January 02, 2006
Begin again
Jan 2, 2006. Breath in the day.
On new year's eve we took some time at the dinner table to reminisce about the year 2005. We had begun by asking our kids what they liked best about 2005 and what they hoped for 2006. That turned out to be a recap of presents received this Christmas and presents hoped for in the coming year -- of course! We began to go over the events and experiences of the past year. It was amazingly catharthic to do so. 2005 was a real wing-dinger. It was lovely to think about the little summer trips we took. We remembered where we celebrated birthdays and where we would like to celebrate them this year. It was good to name the changes that have taken place, such as Pete's job change, Gunnar starting school and, of course, the addition of sweet baby Tally.
And yet, I feel pressure to downplay the magnitude of events that took place and to minimize the effects these events had on us. It is cool to be cool. Right?
Judy Hougen's recent Christmas Meditation blog spoke to me. www.emergentself.blogspot.com
She wrote, "Just the tyranny of an unattainable ideal. A world far more tidy than the one I inhabit." Oh, yes! I realized that I have been hiding, masking, white-washing my reality.
Then Matt www.mattiasandtwine.blogspot.com posted a link to a site that included this:
"We are fantastically worried about our status as cultural outsiders. We want to be in. We want to be relevant. But we know we are out. We fear we are irrelevant." And I commented, "We? Funny, I got to thinking it was just me. Feels good to be reminded - like I can be friends with my friends again."
Ah, to be vulnerable. To be honest and real. To face one's reality and not run, nor cover, nor tidy up.
There were amazing good and deep things of God in and amongst all of the good and hard of this past year. I do NOT desire to minimize his Life in my life. Nor do I want to fail to notice Him in ALL of life. But my point here is that I do not desire to use flimsy god platitudes as bandages for the pain in my life or as attempts to appear less messy to those around me. This year was damn hard. The harder and messier it got, the more I pasted on the fake smile. Or if I leaked truth, then I imagined disapproval.
I like to believe that I'm beyond all of this preformance driven pointlessness. These fires have proved that it is not so. Yet I have noticed that there are tiny spots of ease. Many times this year I have reminded myself to "be present to what IS". That in turn has given me the freedom to go gently with myself and others, and to do what I might need to do, like take a nap.
I want to begin again. I want to release myself to be myself. I want to create space for those around me to do the same. O.K. self, be released. Ding. You are free to move about the country.
On new year's eve we took some time at the dinner table to reminisce about the year 2005. We had begun by asking our kids what they liked best about 2005 and what they hoped for 2006. That turned out to be a recap of presents received this Christmas and presents hoped for in the coming year -- of course! We began to go over the events and experiences of the past year. It was amazingly catharthic to do so. 2005 was a real wing-dinger. It was lovely to think about the little summer trips we took. We remembered where we celebrated birthdays and where we would like to celebrate them this year. It was good to name the changes that have taken place, such as Pete's job change, Gunnar starting school and, of course, the addition of sweet baby Tally.
And yet, I feel pressure to downplay the magnitude of events that took place and to minimize the effects these events had on us. It is cool to be cool. Right?
Judy Hougen's recent Christmas Meditation blog spoke to me. www.emergentself.blogspot.com
She wrote, "Just the tyranny of an unattainable ideal. A world far more tidy than the one I inhabit." Oh, yes! I realized that I have been hiding, masking, white-washing my reality.
Then Matt www.mattiasandtwine.blogspot.com posted a link to a site that included this:
"We are fantastically worried about our status as cultural outsiders. We want to be in. We want to be relevant. But we know we are out. We fear we are irrelevant." And I commented, "We? Funny, I got to thinking it was just me. Feels good to be reminded - like I can be friends with my friends again."
Ah, to be vulnerable. To be honest and real. To face one's reality and not run, nor cover, nor tidy up.
There were amazing good and deep things of God in and amongst all of the good and hard of this past year. I do NOT desire to minimize his Life in my life. Nor do I want to fail to notice Him in ALL of life. But my point here is that I do not desire to use flimsy god platitudes as bandages for the pain in my life or as attempts to appear less messy to those around me. This year was damn hard. The harder and messier it got, the more I pasted on the fake smile. Or if I leaked truth, then I imagined disapproval.
I like to believe that I'm beyond all of this preformance driven pointlessness. These fires have proved that it is not so. Yet I have noticed that there are tiny spots of ease. Many times this year I have reminded myself to "be present to what IS". That in turn has given me the freedom to go gently with myself and others, and to do what I might need to do, like take a nap.
I want to begin again. I want to release myself to be myself. I want to create space for those around me to do the same. O.K. self, be released. Ding. You are free to move about the country.
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