My Brother

Most people who meet me think I am a pretty nice person; but I need to confess that my brother, Charles W. Honaker (Bill) is the very nicest of the two of us! We are all that is left of our "family of origin". Our parents and our older brother, Tom, are dead and have left us as the matriarch and patriarch of the family. Sometimes that feels like a heavy responsibility to me, but Bill and his wife Bobbie (who I have known since I was 13) shoulder that responsibility the way they have walked through their 50+ years of marriage - with faith and joy.

Bill served two tours of duty in Vietnam and he has just written a book about that experience: The Dead Were Mine. It is a well written account of his service and work in Vietnam. He served in the Army as  a Non Commissioned Officer in the Graves Registration service. His duty, along with those who served with him, was to find and recover the remains of those who died in battle. These soldiers performed those duties with reverence as a sacred trust. Once a fallen soldier's remains were recovered, they were never left unaccompanied as they were returned to the US and to their families. I know something about that honor of  accompanying the dead at funerals where I have presided. From the moment the casket or urn was received into the church, it was my honor to "shepherd" that person's remains until they were buried, praying every step of the way. Most of the mortuary people I worked with knew that I took that responsibility seriously and always waited for me before they moved the remains. 

The first time I ever heard my brother talk about his experience in Vietnam was when our dad was dying. During that week we were often up at night together staying with daddy. I'm not sure how it happened but one night Bill began to tell me about the work he did during those two tours of the war. It was, for me, a tender time of getting to know Bill again. The experiences he shared were sobering. I do wonder now why it took so long for me to ask him about Vietnam. Part of it is, as Bill writes in the Preface to the book, an assumption that he would not want to talk about those experiences. But part of it too is my own feelings about war…in part formed by my participation in a generation that had grown to believe that the Vietnam War, which was taking the lives of friends and family, was not "our" war to fight. I am a pacifist who possesses a heart which is incredibly tender towards humanity. I hold on to Jesus'  teaching on the Sermon on the Mount as a hopeful guide for our lives. These things do not interfere with my respect for those who serve in the military…or for those who disagree with my point of view. Reality teaches me that we need to have both sides of any question represented as we make decisions and especially decisions about war. Killing others, even when it is justified, leaves a residue of pain in our heart. I am so glad that my brother escaped the PTSD that cripples so many of our war veterans. We have done those who have served our country in Vietnam such a great disservice over these intervening  years.

I was reading through a series of books written by Julia Spencer - Fleming recently. They are mysteries which are set in a small upstate New York town. They involve a female Episcopal priest (of course!) who is the rector of the local Episcopal Church and the police chief of the town. These two protagonists solve crimes together. I came to the book: And One Was A Soldier. It is a mystery, but much, much more. It details the struggle of 5 people who have just come home from serving in Iraq. They come home with varying degrees of PTSD and a variety of issues: drug addictions, memory loss, loss of limbs, depression and anger. This book is an excellent primer on the reality of how war affects the human heart.

The Dead Were Mine gives a picture of the Vietnam War that most of us would probably rather forget. But we need this book to remember that as my brother says, "there is a cost involved" in the freedom we cherish for ourselves and for others. 

Israel and Palestine: Dear to my heart

This morning I started weeping for my brothers and sisters in Israel and Palestine. Kidnappings, killings, rockets and airstrikes are destroying any hope of even a "fragile" peace. If there is any urge in you for taking sides, I hope you won't do that. Both sides have committed heinous crimes against each other from stripping the land from its owners and making them refugees, to suicide bombings which kill innocent civilians. If there is a part of you that wants to say that "it has always been that way and always will be", I beg you to open your mind to God's power to bring peace. And if there is a part of you that wants to "have no part" of this war, it is too late for that. We are part of this war because our money supports Israel's military.

But there is a deeper reason calling for our concern and prayer. We are related to our Hebrew and Arab brothers and sisters through our ancestor Abraham. We are bound together by God who loves each one of us, and calls us faithfulness in worship of the one God. Fundamentalists of all three religions - Christian, Jewish and Muslim - divide us from one another with words of judgement and hatred. My prayer is that all sides will focus on what unites us. I believe it is that common love of the One we know as God and the family story we share.

There is a crisis in Israel and Palestine and most especially in Gaza. The Anglican Bishop of Jerusalem, Suheil Dawani, reported yesterday that the hospital in Gaza has been seriously damaged by the Israeli airstrikes. The population of Gaza is 1.7 million people, which makes it one of the most densely populated areas of the world. The United Nations has recorded 168 Palestinians killed: 133 civilians, and 36 children. Over 1,140 Palestinians have been wounded. The first Israeli casualty was reported on Tuesday near the border of Israel and Gaza.

When our Presiding Bishop, Katherine Jefferts-Schori visited Gaza in 2013 she told reporters this:
"God weeps at this war between his children. We weep as we watch the destruction; and we should be storming heaven with our prayers for peace."

I hope you will find yourself weeping over Jerusalem, crying out to God for those who suffer in Palestine, Gaza and Israel and praying like you have never prayed before for shalom, al-salam - peace.

Black Bears and City Council

This is NOT a Black Bear!

The above picture is, of course, my sweet dog Bella and my not so sweet cat Pumpkin. Pumpkin has taken over Bella's bed and managed to convince Bella that she should sleep there. Pumpkin has no less than three other "beds" to sleep in but loves to continue her work of being the "household administrator" here on Ivy Lane!

But about that black bear...Yesterday I was driving home from town on Hwy 21 south. I was about a mile north of Pull Tail Road when a black bear, about the size of a refrigerator, loped across the road in front of my car. I stopped and the car behind me also stopped and watched in amazement as the bear continued it's journey into the woods. I have had all sizes of deer cross my path on the roads around here but this is my first bear. Maybe the road construction on Hwy 21 has disturbed the bears...or maybe they just can't resist taking a closer look at those orange barrels along the road!

These pictures are from the hike I took on Tuesday with a friend. We were on the Mountains to Sea Trail near Laurel Fork. We hiked with Bella through this beautiful forest of trees and ferns. Bella is a great trail dog and as you can see from the picture below she loves being outdoors. 

Tuesday evening I attended a Sparta City Council Meeting to support Christ Church's efforts to avoid the placement of a meat processing plant across the highway from us. It was like watching a bad comedy portrayal of small southern town politics. The lack of ability by the Council members to disguise their "need to please" one well known resident over the legal and practical concerns of many was embarrassing. I came home and wrote a letter to the editor of the Alleghany News. Here is an excerpt:

During the “limited time” that the council gave to discussion of this issue, much was made of the connection that each person had to Alleghany County. This small segment of “deeply rooted” Allegheny County residents present at the meeting was however, not representative of the people of this county. I cannot help but believe that the majority of the residents of Sparta and Alleghany County would have reacted negatively to the way that the City Council members dismissed the rights of property owners in this neighborhood to have prior knowledge of a Rezoning Committee’s intention to rezone property in their neighborhood. Most I believe would have shaken their heads in disbelief at the Council’s dismissal of Christ Church’s expressed opposition to the meat processing plant by saying, “your Church is only used once a week”. This said to a Church whose grounds include a Memorial Garden where ashes of loved ones are interred; grounds where a Labyrinth, built by the youth is used for prayer and meditation. Christ Church’s work to help those in need in this county goes well beyond Sunday morning worship. I have no doubt that the residents of Alleghany County who were not present would have been saddened by this City Council’s “good ole boy” rubber stamp of approval for this meat processing plant. Their action was reactive to one resident of the county’s wishes; it showed an enormous lack of planning for the development of Alleghany County; and dismissed as unimportant the care of this county’s residents.

The meat processing plant seems to be a “done deal”. But the residents of Sparta and the citizens of Alleghany County will, I hope, pay attention to the actions of their leaders and remember those actions at election time. It is clearly time for new leadership as we seek to plan for the future of Sparta and Alleghany County. We need forward thinking people who can listen, and who see the need for clear planning in land use issues so that we do not make these same mistakes again. 

No, I am not going to run for City Council but I am sure hoping that the younger citizens of Sparta will step up and offer their gifts of leadership. That's my prayer on this 4th of July....

Life as it Happens

The Importance of Being Ernest

Lady Bracknell strikes again!

Community Theater has been reborn in Allegheny County! June 20 - 22 a group of wonderful people  put together the play: "The Importance of Being Ernest". For some of the actors it was their first time on stage; some of us had a little experience with acting, and a few had been in theater for quite a while. Everyone did a great job and the three performances were well received by our audiences. We were at the Sparta Auditorium which is part of the school system - this was a special treat for me since my Dad (whose name was Ernest) went to school here. 

I do want to reject the idea that I was typecast for this role! All I can say is that it was SO MUCH FUN to boss people around on stage! Theater, of course, came out of the Church which puts on a show, called worship, every week. 30 years of doing that gives one experience I guess, in bossing people around....so, maybe there was "some" reason for my role....? Some of my favorite lines as Lady Bracknell:

When LB is pondering her nephew's invalid friend, whose illness is getting in the way of her own plans she says: Well, I must say, Algernon, that I think it is high time that Mr. Bunbury decided whether he was going to live or to die. This shillyshalling with the question is absurd.  When her daughter, Gwendolyn, runs off to meet her desired man; LB finds them and in response to Gwendolyn's announcement that she is engaged to Mr. Worthing, says, Come here. Sit down; sit down immediately! Hesitation of any kind is a sign of mental decay in the young and physical weakness in the old!

Wilde's play is a humorous criticism of the self-absorbed English society of the late 19th century. My wonderful friend, Mary Mac Shields, who has been costuming theater productions for over 30 years came from Fayetteville to build our costumes, which were stunning.  It was great to have her experience beside me as I attempted this role. I can only say that their is enormous talent here in Allegheny County. Most of the actors were people who grew up here. It was a privilege to work with them. 

 

A new resident of Allegheny County

This is a picture that a friend took last week. He and his wife were working at a house in the Roaring Gap area and this little fawn was lying near the porch. After being in touch with the animal rescue people, they decided that the mom was near by and was feeding the baby. The baby stayed there for 3-4 days. It is such a great picture of how beautiful they are. Our woods seem full of these babies right now. 

I am reading a book called Plain Living: A Quaker Path to Simplicity. The author is Catherine Whitmire.  She has compiled quotes from Quakers on various topics having to do with living simply. I am taking my time through the book as I continue to pare down my life. Of course the hardest thing for me are the things I use to make art, but I want to be regular in revisiting all that I have in terms of what is needed. Giving the clothes and other things that I do not use to our local thrift shop has become a joy. 
This is one of the quotes I am currently pondering:

Still another step toward simplicity is to refuse to live beyond our means emotionally. In a culture where whirl is king, we must understand our emotional limits. Ulcers, migraines, nervous tension, and a dozen other symptoms mark our psychic overload. We are concerned not to live beyond our means financially; why do it emotionally?  (Richard Foster, 1981)

Phenomenal Woman

Maya Angelou

1928 - 2014

In January of 2013 two friends and I drove to Boone to hear Maya Angelou speak. It was such a typical winter night in the mountains: bitterly cold winds and remnants of snow and ice everywhere. But inside the Holmes Center no one was thinking about their cold journey to get there. Even the hard seats, made for sports events, seemed comfortable. We were all "at home" with Maya that evening listening to her unmistakable voice and taking courage from her presence and words. The crowd was mostly young and from the moment she came on stage there seemed to be one purpose in her heart: encourage this "future generation" to let nothing stop them from living their dreams. 

I wish I had written down some of her words that night, but as I look back I realize that the most important thing for me was to see this woman, hear her voice, and receive her strong spirit. When she recited Phenomenal Woman, it was for every woman in the auditorium:

Now you understand

Just why my head’s not bowed. 

I don’t shout or jump about

Or have to talk real loud. 

When you see me passing,

It ought to make you proud.

I say,

It’s in the click of my heels, 

The bend of my hair, 

the palm of my hand, 

The need for my care. 

’Cause I’m a woman

Phenomenally.

Phenomenal woman,

That’s me. 

(last stanza: Phenomenal Woman)

When I think of Maya it is to remember her strength as a woman; her ability to survive her childhood, and racial prejudice. She has taught us much about how to survive when life is hard and the world is unfair. And her strength lives on. 

Out of the huts of history's shame

I rise.

Up from a past that's rooted in pain

I rise.

I'm a black ocean, leaping and wide,

Welling and swelling I bear the tide.

(Still I rise: fourth stanza)

Diane Rehm interviewed Maya later in 2013 and it was wonderful to hear these two great women interacting with each other. Toward the end of the interview, Maya said, " I like you so much, Diane Rehm, and so does your audience. And I have a feeling all the time that you and I are best friends. And I know that if we lived near each other, at least, we'd see each other once a month, have a cup of coffee, a glass of wine or something..." At the end of the show Diane told Maya thank you and then added, "I love you Maya." and Maya said, "I love you Diane Rehm." 

Seems a good way to say good-bye to Maya: Thank you and we love you...

"Our Mandela"

 Jimmy Carter 

When I went to hear Jimmy Carter teach Sunday School in Plains, Georgia I was not prepared to be the one who led the opening prayer for his teaching. Because of the large number of visitors they have on the Sundays when Mr. Carter teaches, the leaders at Maranatha Baptist Church in Plains have a kind of "liturgy" that they go through before Mr. Carter enters the sanctuary. The woman who runs the show is Jan Williams, a former school teacher...with perhaps a bit of drill sergeant mixed in! She is tough and of course it doesn't hurt to be backed up by the Secret Service. There were 5 of us who traveled from Sparta, NC to hear Mr. Carter. One of our group somehow managed to meet Jan on Saturday while we were visiting Plains and touring the Carter homestead. She told Jan about our little group of 5 who had traveled for a day to be in Plains. On Sunday morning after being cleared by the Secret Service we entered the sanctuary. Miss Jan who was already into her crowd "warm up" saw us and motioned us down front where she had seats on the second pew saved for us. As part of her instructions to the over 200 people who came to hear Mr. Carter she told us that he would ask any who were ministers (active or retired) to stand and introduce ourselves. "BUT", she said, "if you do that be prepared to pray, because Mr. Carter will ask one of you to pray." 

After all the ministers had introduced themselves, given their church affiliation and where they lived and worked; Mr. Carter turned and faced me and asked me to pray. It was quite an honor to pray for this wonderful man who then led us in a grace filled study of the Prodigal Son. I have since learned that Mr. Carter almost always asks a woman pastor to pray. 

A good place to begin understanding why Carter does this is in his new book pictured above. Jimmy Carter was raised in the Southern Baptist Church - a Church which has consistently voted "no" to the ordination of women. In 2000 the Southern Baptist Convention took official action which made it clear that women would no longer be able to serve as deacons, pastors, or chaplains. Rosalynn and Jimmy Carter decided to end their relationship with the denomination. They chose to remain part of their local church where a substantial number of members supported the ministry of women. Mr. Carter spends the first several chapters of this book helping us understand his own view of the equality of women.  In these chapters Mr. Carter offers his own reflections and study of scripture regarding gender equality. It is an engaging and entertaining account. For me, however, the heart of this book is found in the other 15 chapters of the book. In those chapters Carter shows how women have been, and still are victims of abusive power, war and violence. His writing is a place to begin as we talk about the effects of gender inequality. 

We are making progress in how women are treated but  a recent news story shows us how much more progress we need to make.  A month ago 230 Nigerian school girls were abducted by the ultra radical Islamic terrorist group Boko Haram. Reports say that the terrorists are sharing the girls, conducting mass marriages and selling these young girls. The misinterpretation of the Koran by these fundamentalists is tragic beyond words. Pointing fingers at "those terrorists over there" does little to help these girls. The misinterpretation of all of our sacred writings (Koran, Bible, Torah) have always led to oppression, slavery and degradation of humanity. Raising our awareness to see how easily this happens in every culture gives a chance for human dignity to happen. Until we can honor the image of God in every human we will have no peace. 

A friend recently called Jimmy Carter, "our Mandela". After reading this book I realize why she said this. In his own quiet and humble way Jimmy Carter has offered "freedom" to so many through his teaching and the work of the Carter Foundation in Atlanta. You will be amazed, as I was, at how much this lovely man of God has done with the gifts God has given him. 

Death as a Penalty

After three days of intense fog and rain the sun came out yesterday and I saw my first red bud tree blooming. Bella and I were on our usual morning walk through our little part of this mountain paradise when the vibrant purple color of the blooming red bud caught my eye.

I was in Wilmington, NC last weekend for a party honoring my dear sister/friend, Blair. Blair and her partner Inza, have just had their backyard garden redone and have planted three red bud trees across the width of the garden. They had already bloomed and the leaves were out. A friend had framed a beautiful gate with a wooden arch made from an African wood called "jarrah". It all blends together for a picture perfect view from their deck where 40 or so friends gathered for great food and conversation. For me this event was a slice of the richness of relationships that Blair has shared with me over 30 years of friendship. It was an evening to be remembered for a long time.

I have been reading a little booklet by Ghandi called, "The Message of Jesus Christ". Ghandi admired Jesus very much and believed that his teaching in the Sermon on the Mount was the essence of Jesus' teaching. Ghandi was influenced by the message of non retaliation and non resistance to evil found in Jesus' teaching. That the message of this "Prince of Peace" was so distorted by Christianity in the west was painful to Ghandi.

I was reminded of Ghandi's words this week as I read about another botched "death penalty execution" in Oklahoma this week. I first heard it reported on the BBC news and could hear the incredulity of the British reporters as they reported the torturous process of the killing of Clayton Lockett. Tortured to death would be an accurate description. Some are saying that he got what he deserved...he tortured a young woman to her death and therefore..."an eye for an eye"(Leviticus). But Jesus' teaching in the Sermon on the Mount reversed that part of the Levitical law: "You have heard it said, 'eye for eye and tooth for tooth', but I tell you do not resist an evil person. If anyone slaps you on the right cheek, turn the other also..." I will be honest with you that the depth of this one statement of Jesus is hard to understand and more importantly hard to live, but the kind of retaliation that the death penalty shows is hard to fit into Jesus' teaching here.  The death penalty is not working as a deterrent to crime in our Western civilization and the fact that we are one of only a few nations that still has the death penalty certainly gives me pause. I wonder what the world sees of our "Christian nation" in this latest story of death as a penalty.

In one of his writings Ghandi said that "if Christians wanted people to feel the 'aroma of Christianity' they must copy the rose which irresistibly drew people to itself. A rose does not need to preach. It simply spreads its fragrance. The fragrance is its own sermon." This is a reminder for me of the teaching of St. Francis who said, "Preach the gospel and if you must, use words."

Easter Brings Spring

It felt like Easter Day brought Spring to the mountains. Holy Week was cold and cloudy...it was 25 degrees one morning...and then on Sunday we had a beautiful sunrise and a gorgeous day of sunshine and warmth. The daffodils that had been afraid to bloom have suddenly shown their happy faces. The Hostas are finally peeking up through the soil and I am finally able to put my Dalia tubers in the ground.

I participated in some of the Holy Week services at Christ Church. Preaching on Maundy Thursday and at the Easter Sunrise service gave me plenty to think about. The sunrise service was so much fun. Beginning in the Memorial Garden at 6 am we had a fire to light the Paschal Candle with Christ's new light. We processed the light into the church, brought up the lights there to reveal the lilies and white hangings...no more penitential purple or blood red passion. At the end of the service we processed the "light of Christ" back out into the world as the sun rose over the mountains. We startled the horses and cows around us by proclaiming loudly: "Alleluia, Christ is risen. The Lord is risen indeed, Alleluia." 

As sometimes happens, I was convicted by my own preaching on Maundy Thursday. This service, which commemorates the Last Supper and institution of the Eucharist, is so full of symbolism that it is easy to forget what it is about. The Eucharist and the washing of feet as a symbol of Christ calling us to be servants to one another often take the forefront. But the primary focus is the mandate that Jesus gives on this night. Maundy comes from the Latin word for mandate. Jesus gives us a new mandate, a new commandment on this night before he is put to death: 

^“I give you a new commandment, that you love one another. 

Just as I have loved you, you also should love one another." 

Everything Jesus does on this night is consistent with what he has taught for 3 years. He responds with love in all the awfulness of  this night's betrayal and misery. One of the most powerful realizations of this night for me was the way that my heart neglects the mandatory commandment of love. I can't say that I hate anyone but my harsh judgments of others feel less than loving. As I said in my sermon, "Love is such a beautiful word..." But doing this love - the love which Jesus showed and taught - well, that's a battle that rages within me and I suspect most of us day by day. 

Jesus didn't just give the "new mandate" he acted it out in front of us. He gave up his right to be the honored guest and assumed the role of servant. The disciples who were at table with him acknowledged their neediness and let Jesus feed them and then they went forth to feed others because they had seen their neediness and been fed. I'm not talking about feeding in the evangelical sense; of course the disciples "fed" others by teaching them Jesus' teachings. But the disciples also did not judge those who came to them hungry and homeless. They organized house churches where widows and orphans; homeless and outcasts could be fed. 

Maundy Thursday left me with a conviction about my own heart and my own actions but it also left me wondering if the Christian Church has forgotten this "mandatory love". It seems to me that we spend a lot of time arguing about "the rightness of what we believe" and little time being a servant to others. We want "our way" to be honored and when it's not we label "those others" as "unbelievers". We have spent so much time over the past 2 decades arguing about sex and marriage that "homeless and hungry" in this country is epidemic. Where is the greatest energy of the Church spent? Why do we separate ourselves from one another over the "little issues" when we can work together to do love? My heart tells me that until we really "do love" with one another the Church will continue to decline and divide into little sects of "like minded" people who do little.  

But to end on a more upbeat note...here is a picture of little Aida Quinn. She and her mom, Jill, and her "Oma" Pat came to see us on Saturday. Jill and Aida are here visiting from Alaska and isn't she a beauty? She will be 2 years old in October.  As I helped her down the step in front of the house, I heard a tiny voice say, "Dank Ou".  Yep, she has impeccable manners!  

Aida

Blessed Holy Week

The glass piece above hangs in a window in my living room. It was made by two friends who just celebrated their one year anniversary. When the afternoon sun comes in through this window I think about that service of blessing for these two men. As the colors spill across the floor and furniture of the living room I still feel the warmth of the Spirit which was so present in their commitment to each other. It was a holy moment; full to the brim with all the joy, peace and love that God's Spirit brings. 

Our Holy Week here in the mountains has been weather filled so far! The colors of the glass are longing for some sun to revive them. Last night the wind roared around us as I walked Bella in my heavy winter coat. The trees were frantic in their fight against the wind reminding me that sometimes "holy" is harsh and wild. The silent colors in the stained glass remind me that something dark is coming. This is a "holy" week - the drama of my faith awaits me. The Triduum, (the Great Three Days) begins tomorrow and we will feast, then sorrow and wait until we can once more celebrate the Resurrection. 

Br. Geoffrey Tristram, SSJE was the writer for the daily meditation from The Society of St. John the Evangelist on Monday. He quoted the spiritual writer Ida Goerres saying that 

"...coming to Holy Week is like approaching a great waterfall with an empty cup in your hand that you long to fill up with water. If you put the cup right into the middle it will likely be dashed away. It is better to aim for one small part of the waterfall, perhaps on the edge, one particular trickle of water, and full up your cup there."

It's true. It is like entering the stained glass piece that hangs in my window. Sometimes I am captivated by one color, or the design or the bevels on the clear glass. The light from the piece is never the same because the sun is always at a slightly different angle on our journey around it. My spiritual journey is hardly the same from year to year as I allow the passion story to penetrate my soul. So I am touched in ways that are new each time. Where will my cup of water come from this year? And yours also....what will fill your cup?

Being Healed...

Altar at Christ Church

Wednesday evening - Healing Service

On Wednesday evening 21 folks got together at Christ Church in Sparta for a service of healing prayers and Holy Eucharist. It was my joy to get to plan this service with some very gifted musicians. The stimulation for the service was listening to a CD done by Mark and Julee Weems, Healing at the Roots: Songs of Renewal, produced by Little Windows. One of their arrangements is a John Michael Talbot song called, Healer of My Soul. 

There is no doubt in my mind that God is a healing God. From the moment in Genesis when God stitches clothes for Adam and Eve to wear after they have been exiled from the garden, it seems clear to me that God is mending us...joining the fragmented ends of our lives, our soul and spirit. There are so many things that chip away at us, leaving splinters. Illness is just one of those "realities of life" that knocks up against us. Perhaps that is why many of the words used for healing in scripture carry a depth of meaning. God is revealed to the Israelites saying, "I am the Lord God who heals you" (Exodus 15:26) The writer uses the word RAPHAH (phonetic spelling of Hebrew) which not only means heal but to make whole, to stitch back together. 

There are many questions surrounding God's healing and I think the reason for that is that we don't understand God or God's love. I don't pretend to know God's mind except for that which God has revealed in the lives of those great saints who have left us testimony, in scripture and in their writings. It seems clear to me that God's love is beyond anything we can understand. Isaiah says that we are "inscribed on the palm of God's hand". (Isaiah 49:17) "Can a mother forget the child she has bore in her womb or suckled at her breast? It is doubtful, concludes Isaiah but even if this should happen, God will "continually" remember you. We are remembered and we are loved and because of these things we can open ourselves to God's healing.

I know James Taylor is not considered a saint (except, perhaps in North Carolina) but there is some wisdom for us in his song, Secret of Life (Live):

The secret of love is opening up your heart.

It's okay to feel afraid, but don't let it stand in your way.

It is hard to lean into love even when we can see the person we love. There are so many hurts in love. Loving God and leaning into that love so that we can open ourselves up to healing and mending is a process we grow into. Trusting God to do in our lives that mending which is most important at the moment is not easy. I can tell you this from experience... I want parts of my body that are wearing out to be restored, but it seems that the greater need for me last week was in the realm of mending and integrating my life in this new "phase" of retirement. I accept that as I continue to pray the words of Healer of My Soul:

Healer of my soul. heal me at even'

Heal me at morning, heal me at noon

Healer of my Soul.

If a tree falls in the forest....

I am so glad that I no longer have to worry about this pine tree in the woods behind my house. The windstorm that came through Alleghany County last weekend took care of this nasty ole tree. but really did it have to throw it on my garage??

I really can't complain (why do we always say that when we are about to complain?) the top of this pine struck a glancing blow to the back of the garage and took down one section of our fence, but missed the house. The light is different without the tree and it was the first thing I noticed when I drove in after being away for the weekend.

As to that age old question about whether the tree falling in the forest makes a noise...well you will have to ask my cat Pumpkin about that...if you can get her out from under the bed!

Fayetteville, North Carolina

 These are my good friends Kristin and Coleman Smith as they set off on a motorcycle adventure to Charleston, SC. They are leaving from Fayetteville, NC where they live. I am here to stay with Kris' mom, Margaret (aka Mama and Gigi). Margaret has been like a mom to me over the past 21 years. She is an incredibly wonderful woman and I am so glad to be closer to her since I retired. Margaret, who is now 93, has had a quite a life. She has wonderful memories to share and I enjoy listening. Traveling to NYC after she finished college at Virginia Tech, Margaret worked at the YWCA headquarters. She met her husband, Don, at the First Presbyterian Church in Newark, NJ where she attended church. The choir director introduced them and they were married there. Don had a wonderful singing voice and they were both in a variety of theater productions that the church had. After living in a variety of locations for Don's career in civil service with the Air Force they moved to Fayetteville.  They became a part of Holy Trinity Episcopal Church where Don sang in the choir. Two little girls in tow, they came each Sunday becoming part of the strong foundation of families in the church. Margaret and Don were foster parents for babies and older children who came their way via Child Protective Services.  Don died just after he retired and Margaret remained in the house they had built in Fayetteville, surrounded by family and many wonderful friends.

I got to know Margaret in 1993 when I became the Associate Rector at Holy Trinity. I loved her bright and inquisitive mind; we had lots of stirring conversations. When I left Fayetteville in 2000 to go to work at the Cathedral in Albuquerque, she included me in her Sunday routine of writing letters to her daughter Sharon (who lives near St. Louis). Margaret came to visit me in Albuquerque and in Indiana. At 90 she came to visit me in Sparta where I live now and together with her daughters and other family we took a trip to visit Margaret's family homes in Virginia. Over the time I have known her she has learned to use a computer for communication and began "web camera" visits with her daughter Sharon. What a joy she is in my life and the lives of all who know her.

 Bella with her passion: a stick

Another snow last week (perhaps the last?). This is such a good picture of what Bella loves to do. She loves to find STICKS! And, bring them home...and chew on them. Actually, she chips the sticks off in little bites and spits the chips out. She is like a little machine with them. She occasionally tackles sticks that are too big to bring home and I have see her get caught between two trees when a stick won't fit between them. Now if I can just get her to help with the yard work. 

Winter: The gift that keeps on giving!

Grumpy Isabella!

 This is a picture of the tree that greets everyone as they drive up Ivy Lane. I call her Isabella. She is looking a bit grumpy in this picture because she is covered with ice. But that was last week...today it is snowing. It is a spring snow: icy, wet and heavy. I keep going back to the wisdom I learned a few weeks ago..."snow is like cash to the farmers because it puts nitrogen in the ground." I certainly don't want to rob the farmers of their fortune, but we need some spring!

The Standoff! 

This is a picture of Pumpkin (on the left) and Bella (on the right). Bella has now been with us for 6 months and Pumpkin has decided that Bella will NOT get all the attention just because she is bigger...and more extroverted. Pumpkin often resides under the bed...her extroversion is certainly "in check". She does not like visitors, or other intrusions to her schedule. But she has decided that Bella is not going to harm her on the other hand...

This is the cat that Bella chased up a tree this weekend. I don't know the cat but I have never seen one climb a tree quite so fast. In fact, I don't think I have ever seen a cat climb a tree and it was remarkable. The cat had no idea that Bella wouldn't hurt a fly but after hearing one, loud, deep bark from this big red dog, the cat wanted to make sure it was out of sight. When I lived in Albuquerque my Golden Retriever, Katie, would chase the bunnies on the mesa when we walked. I always told them: "No fear, little bunny, she is slow of foot and easily intimidated". And so it is with Bella, although she has younger, swifter feet than Katie ever had. Can you tell that I love my animals?

Bella, the lovely

One of the ways that I know God's love is through Bella. She is so tolerant of my failings and forgiving. This morning I "got caught up" on the SSJE Lenten Series meditations. In the meditation yesterday, Br. Mark Brown talked about his "trinity" of attributes for God: Love, Grace and Truth. We humans are certainly meant to reflect those attributes as we "incarnate, or embody" God. One of the things he suggests is asking ourselves, "Is this the gracious way to act?" or "What is God's truth?" or "Where is God's love for this situation?" I find myself deeply moved by this notion of "incarnating or embodying" the divine attributes of God. It requires such mindfulness on my part. I want to slow down to that mindful way of making God's presence in my life real. 

Lent II

Tomorrow is the second Sunday of Lent and I have just finished listening again to all of the "Love Life" series from this week. "Love Life" is a Lenten series offered by the Society of St. John the Evangelist. This is a religious order of the Episcopal Church and these brothers have often been a lifeline for me. I have retreated at their monastery and guesthouses in Massachusetts. This Lenten video series is about "Living the Gospel of Love". Each of the videos is presented by a brother who talks about the Gospel of John. On Wednesday of this week (Revelation 3: Acceptance) Br. Curtis Almquist talks about "feeling" God's love. Sometimes I know God loves me and sometimes it is so hard to feel loved by anyone, especially God.  Almquist, in his meditation, says this, "...I think love is ultimately not a feeling it’s a decision and it’s God’s decision and God adores you." He recommended writing these words on a piece of paper, "God loves me", and taking it into the day with us. 

God loves and adores you

Looking at that paper at times during the day was a gift to my memory, a reminder that God has decided to love me and I am living in that love whether I feel it or not. At those moments when I opened the folded piece of paper and looked at the words, a flood of feelings came over me. The battle waged by darkness in my soul could not stand in the face of that "tangible light" - the words: "God loves and adores you." I KNOW in my heart that this is the message of scripture (the whole of it!) and that little piece of paper became a laser light of proof to me.  You can listen to these videos by going to www.ssje.org and clicking on the "Love Life" series at the top of the page. You can subscribe to these videos (which are about 2 minutes long) at that site also and each one will be sent to your email daily during Lent. 

Pumpkin sleeping in Bella's crate

Bella is spending a few days with my friends at Mepkin. She loves it there and it is an opportunity for me to get some things done around here. Last night after I made Pumpkin get out of my lap so I could knit, she got in Bella's crate and went to sleep. Does this mean she misses Bella???? She has managed to sleep in Bella's other bed as well. This is why I have animals...they are live entertainment 24/7.

Fireplace in my "new" living room

The house painting is finished as well as the new tile work around the fireplace. Wish I had a "before" picture to show you! The house feels like it is finally "mine". Before it had yellow/white walls and the wood around the fireplace was honey colored. The tile was white with tan and yellowish designs in it. This tile is slate and the natural color variations are beautiful! I'm happy... Now, today, it is time to clean out the garage....

Lent

 Kantha Cloth

I know the title of this post is "Lent" but I'm still on Valentine's Day projects (sigh!). This is a piece of Kantha cloth that I made last month. I am calling it Kantha cloth because I can't really think of anything else to call it. I took a piece of red cotton velveteen and fused a piece of lightweight quilt batting to the back of it. I then took a variety of embroidery threads (different colors, weights) and did a running stitch (Kantha stitch) through the velveteen and batting. You can't see the various colors on this one but you can see it in the heart I cut out of the piece below. I used some metallic threads as well which added some interest. I had enough fabric to make 3 hearts which are on their way to becoming pins.  

Kantha Heart

Perhaps by next Valentine's Day they will be finished products! The past several weeks have been busy as the house continues its progress in being painted and some minor remodeling. The house is looking really fine and it is exciting to make the interior of the house reflect my personality and style. And I have been doing some clergy supply work as well.

Yesterday on the First Sunday of Lent I was at Good Shepherd Episcopal Lutheran Church in Galax, VA again. I think I have said before how much I enjoy this church and its people. For me they symbolize the future of the Church because they choose not to focus on where they disagree, or are different from each other; rather they choose to find their common ground and celebrate that. 

The lessons for yesterday were about temptation: Adam and Eve in the garden and Jesus being tempted by Satan. Several years ago I preached a sermon on these lessons called, "The Devil is a Friend of Mine" and used the Jerry Garcia song, "Friend of the Devil" in the beginning of the sermon. That might have been shocking to some (still may be). It does seem to me that Jesus and Satan in Matthew's account of Jesus' temptation in the wilderness sound like two old rabbis debating religion. Most mental health professionals would say that befriending our "devils" is a good thing. Getting to know the "shadows" that lurk in our hearts enables us to be aware of the places where temptation can take hold so that we don't trip over them so often. Anyway, here is how I ended my sermon yesterday:

         Lent is that time when we try to do something that will stop the usual patterns of our lives. We give up something or take on something that will stop us in our tracks so we can explore who we really are. Yes, we really are human. Like our ancestors in the garden we still want the fruit that will make us complete. We reach out and we take it over and over. Then we hide it, and we hide ourselves. We blame others for our failures and we blame ourselves…we trip and yes, we fall.

         All those things are true and you don’t need me to tell you that. What you do need me to tell you is this: God made you, every cell of you. And God has loved you from the moment you took your first breath. You have tripped and fallen and God has been there, loving you and helping you up, turning you to face in a different direction. And Lent is for this one thing: For you and me to know that in the midst of all that is chaos in our lives, God placed One who is human and is also God in our midst to show us that life doesn’t end after we fall. Life continues even when we are broken and scarred and dented. Jesus is at our side to show us that even if we are wounded to death, life will continue. 

High on a Windy Hill

View from the Top

      Last Sunday I went be with a wonderful friend on her last Sunday in her parish as she retires from full time ministry. It was also the Last Sunday of Epiphany and as always the gospel reading was the story of Jesus' transfiguration on the mountaintop. As I listened to my friend preach about Jesus and his three disciples arriving on top of the mountain, I had the above picture in mind. 

      While we were staying at Mepkin, Bella and I hiked to the top of the mountain behind their house. It was quite a feat, but with Bella showing me where the deer paths were we made it. I could see the Fraser Firs at the top and knew that once we got up there we could take the tree farm's road back down. When we got to the top the view was so stunning that I just wanted to stay. There was a cold wind rustling through the trees but the sun was warm on my shoulders as I sat on a rock to rest. I was like Peter in the gospel lesson, "Lord, let me build shelters so we can stay here." Things happen in the presence of such beauty when the Spirit blows where it will. God revealed Jesus to the disciples on the Mount of Transfiguration. As Jesus stood in the presence of Elijah and Moses, the word and purpose of God became unified in Jesus. Jesus is the prophet (like Elijah) who will lead the people (like Moses) out of slavery. High on a windy hill there is much to be revealed.

Snowy Leaves

Snow has come again to Ivy Lane. We had enough yesterday to make everything white and beautiful. It was an "early spring" snow...winter showing off while it can. Today things are warming back up just in time for Mardi Gras! Pancakes are the order for this evening as we feast in preparation for Lenten fasting. As I have begun to put the house back together after the painting finished, I have found so many things that I don't need or want. It feels like a time to "keep things simple" and so my car will soon be full of things to take to the local thrift store. Friends were here this weekend and they helped me throw away 3 file boxes full of my sermons from almost 30 years of ministry. This feels like a Lenten discipline and it's a huge start on "traveling light". Now about my studio....

Chicken, Fennel and Potatoes

I rarely take pictures of food but this dish is so pretty...and so yummy. I found the recipe online and made it this weekend while my friends were here. We added the red potatoes to the recipe which calls for lemons, fennel and chicken. The combination is so yummy and so easy. We substituted fresh rosemary for the thyme called for and it was fine. Here's the recipe:

Chicken Roasted with Fennel and Lemon

by Cooking Season by Season

Ingredients:

4 large chicken thighs with skin on

sea salt and freshly ground black pepper

drizzle of extra virgin olive oil

juice of 1 lemon and 2 small lemons quartered

a few sprigs of thyme, leaves picked (or rosemary)

1 large fennel bulb, roughly chopped

handful of green olives, pitted

3/4 cup of dry white wine

(I added 4 red potatoes cut into large pieces)

Steps:

1. season the chicken thighs generously with salt and pepper. Drizzle the oil and lemon juice over the top, scatter on the thyme leaves. then transfer to a large bowl or plastic bag and leave to marinate for 30 minutes. Preheat the oven to 400 degrees F.

2. Using a slotted spoon, transfer the chicken to a small roasting pan and add the fennel and lemon quarters (and potatoes, if using them). Season well and bake for 20 minutes.

3. Remove the roasting pan from the oven and add the olives and wine. Return to the oven and cook for another 20 minutes, then turn the heat down to 350 degrees. Cover the pan and cook for 20 minutes till done. Let it rest for 5 minutes before serving. 

Serves 3-4 people.