Navigating through Lent

The last few days online have been rich with posts charting the weeks ahead in this season of Lent. There are plans for fasting, for studying, for creating, many plans. I've followed along in my daily reference books - Thomas Merton, holy scripture, etc., and I've taken inspiration from many beautiful posts and works of art - too numerous to plug - using all as blessed nourishment and navigational hints for the season; I find myself hungrily taking in the morsels of the day - there is richness, love, heartache, and God around me as the season of Lent begins - begins with precious time of leisure with my spouse, dining with family and friends, enjoying the breeze, the scenery, the "full sails" one might say........truly food for my Lenten journey and actually enough left over to last a lifetime.

Charting a course through Lent, I've chosen some aspects of life to avoid during the 40 days, some to take up. One aspect I will share - I will not be fasting from blogging, rather I will continue sharing my thoughts and being truly fed by the authors that I read each day.....some days so full of sustenance I feel the glutton, some days, a single crumb read that takes my breath away!

May your journey in Lent be filled with the nourishment you need and rich surprises of joy you cannot imagine this day. I expect neither my Lenten disciplines nor yours will be smooth sailing all the way or be exactly as we charted; God does have a way of adjusting what we think or plan to do. Even if our plans aren't those which we expected, I pray that the fullness of God's blessings and how to use them in service to others will be evident to you and to me.


Photo - re-connecting "accidentally" with this talented artist - her piece NAVIGATION inspired the nautical notes of this post - to purchase Katherine's work or to see more email her at katherine@katherinetreffinger.com (This beautiful little piece is an oil on canvas, 9" x 6" @ $95.00 + $6.00 for shipping)

Just keep on walking

While reading The God of Second Chances, author Erik Kobell, I came upon this quote from poet Denise Levertov -

"the road unfurls itself, we don't stop walking, we know there is far to go."

My road is unfurling nicely these first 8 days of 2009 and I'm happily continuing to walk on, not really caring that there is far to go. I'm on a roll with my reading, writing, artwork, as well as physical and mental challenges I've laid out "my plan." I'm eager for the road to be long and comfortable - whoops - did I say comfortable?

Well, there's a bump in my road. It tugs at my mind and my heart. The bump comes from my being part of a hard decision that had to be made for a local and historic civic organization. The facts were there, logical, without question and under review for over a year - volunteers decreasing rapidly, donations dwindling, static membership - in order to preserve an endowment and to stop hemorrhaging funds - the Board's (of which I am a member) decision was that the organization be closed down immediately - the endowment would be preserved until that time when a more stable economy and alternative operating procedures could be established - the decision was made, appropriate steps were taken, and publicly announced.

The bump is not over the decision - it was measured, accurate and the appropriate thing to happen - my anxiety is over those who are not easily drawn to making hard decisions, who question the method of announcement, who anguish over the what if's. I know that I'm a strong enough person to shoulder these sometimes harsh, sometimes emotionally projected criticisms and concerns but it is a bump in my road that I would have been happy to avoid. Still, I was part of "paving" that road now unfurling itself and I won't stop walking, even while knowing the road is going to be neither smooth, nor short.

I hope that your 2009 road is starting out smoothly and that you will not have to dodge or be held back in your life's growth by big bumps or even small ones. But when the bumps do come, my suggestion is to take a deep breath, think twice before you speak, say a little prayer (always) and hey, why not - have a big glass of water - and keep on walking!

Photo - by SS - Maryhill Museum of Art, Goldendale, WA

The Thanksgiving that keeps on giving

In November of last year, I wrote about the fabulous Thanksgiving feast we had been experiencing with church family for, then, 6 years. I wrote of how I had come reluctantly to the idea of Thanksgiving "at church" but had found the blessings of breaking bread together as such a joyous event that after the first year, I never looked back or thought of any other kind of event.

This year with my husband retiring as Rector of the parish, we have voluntarily (a custom) been attending "other" churches in the community in order for the parish to grow accustomed to #1. the idea of a new rector, and #2. the actuality of a new rector, along with his family recruited, hired and in place.

We have been absent but, of course, not unaware of how the parish is progressing, the new family's arrival, changes taking place in worship and scheduling, etc. When the idea and tradition of the Thanksgiving feast being once more in the parish hall was mentioned in the parish newsletter and in subsequent announcements, there seemed to be little interest in continuing the custom and certainly no one was prepared to come forward, cook the turkey, etc. The turkey was always pretty easy to pull off - it was the stupendous side dishes that needed to be provided by the feast participants that was on unsteady legs.....maybe, maybe not?

So, with the worst in mind, my middle of the night thoughts went to many folks who would NOT have a communal feast without the custom continuing. Middle of the night thoughts again - I thought perhaps we could have those particular folks here in our home. It would seem natural as we had eaten together for 7 years and if no one wanted to do it anymore at the church, well we would start a new tradition. My husband suggested, in the light of day, of course, to me that IF the tradition was important it would be continued and if not, it wasn't up to me to "save the day."

Well, guess what! They have a bigger than ever feast attendance planned. Folks will have a wonderful time, God's bounty will be shared and we are free to make our own plans with family and friends "somewhere else."

I've written about giving up martyrs' crowns here before and I do pretty well most of the time. But, I do admit my grand gestures, or at least thinking of them, to "save the day" seem ever so clear when I am dreaming them up. My small angst about "not being missed".....I think that's human - now's the time you should all be nodding yes, thank you. But my husband's steadfastness in assuring me that Thanksgiving will keep on giving even without my able assistance is sound advice. But just to be sure that I do "save the day" in somebody's house I will arrive carrying food, wine, and who knows what:) The day won't need saving but I want to prepared, just in case!

In the meantime, I wish you, to whom it is appropriate, a grand tradition this coming weekend of a Happy Thanksgiving .....and letting you know I've re-packed my martyr's crown into a deep, dark closet and marked it - "only to be used in extraordinary cases of emergency:)


Photo - SS

No friends - many friends??

In my rambling reflections of the past few days, I penciled in a thought - "no friends" then "many friends." What did that mean to me when I said it? What did that mean to you when you read it, particularly if you consider yourself one of my friends?

I think in the deepest fear and yearning for a light, one can look, and often does, to the darkness before quickly shedding light on the ridiculous that has just passed through one's mind.

In stating, "no friends" I think I reflected that dark fear of being alone. Alone in the house, alone in the adventure, alone in the world. Does one become that way naturally with no fault or action of one's own or does one court the being or state of "no friends?" Some of you would say, once more as I said to myself, "how ridiculous for you to even think that!" But just your saying it would not erase the feeling would it?

In reflection, I know that I have many friends, but I also know that life becomes cluttered with so many distractions that one's friendships can lie fallow for a while. Like a field, like a garden, like an orchid - it can be ignored for a while, it will live, it will survive, but will it prosper? I don't think so.

Many friends have reached out to me in the past 10 days. Some I expected, some I did not. A new friendship was presented in very plain terms to me from an unexpected source. How dear a cup of coffee and a chat in a local coffee house. I am grateful for my old friends, my high school chums - so distant in time from each other yet reaching out to each other like kids on Facebook, laughing at the silly pictures of our youth and the lined faces that we now see in ourselves and each other. Friends in the neighborhood who brought us the soup laced with cheese (like arsenic to my spouse - lactose allergy) who regretted they'd forgotten or never known that detail about him. That laugh brought us new friendship across a crockpot! The dear, dear friends who dared not even leave the car but to drop their gifts at the door for fear they would "disturb" us - how could they think such a thing - their gifts and their love only disturbed our throats by the lumps that appeared there over their thoughtfulness. The cards, the tears, the thanksgiving. The friends that we are yearning to know better but fear an intrusion into their lives, yes, they came to us with no invitation other than to offer their hearts and help! How silly we humans are that we don't nurture our friends more than we do. They are such treasures and gifts of God's love - messengers albeit without wings!

"beautiful boy" by David Sheff

Having just read a book given to me as a gift from daughter, Sarah, the question coming to mind prior to reading it, was "why this book?" The title was enough to put me off and ponder why Sarah thought that I would choose to review an addiction story, as if the ones that I know "up close and personal" aren't informative enough?

The book (that I now recommend) is "beautiful boy - a father's journey through his son's addiction." The book is, as its title states, a father's journey, etc. It is a painfully, poignantly written recollection of a perfectly normal, beautiful child, ascending into the world of drugs pulling the family sans drugs, into the bottomless chasm of his addiction to methamphetamines.

I found the likelihood of enjoying this book slim as, regrettably, I have too many friends, family and relations who could have written this book almost to the letter.....one such would-be author, having referred more than once to her addict son, as her "beautiful boy." But surprisingly, once I did pick up this book and begin to read it, I find it hard to put down for several days.

Right from the beginning, I was spellbound with the personalization of the facts. The facts that to those outside a family's inner circle might seem contrived or possibly exaggerated as to "what's really happening" in the life of a family with an addicted member. As I came upon the all too-familiar scenes and stories I've personally experienced, my mind kept nodding, yes, yes and questioning how does/did this happen and why can't we/they "fix" it?!

The addiction facts are there. The addicts' stories, lies, promises, recovery, relapses have a familiar ring to them. The pain, the hurt, the blame, the guilt, the sorrow - shared like stones splashing and rippling through still pond water - no caring family member or interested bystander is spared from "getting wet"!

In recommending this book, I would share my personal sense of release found in the reading - release from the burden of guilt, unduly taken on by we/us the parents, friends, and families. The assurance that we/they are not wrong in wanting to offer our/their family member comfort, aid, love, even cash, etc. but reminding ourselves/them as all good Al-Anon (Al-Anon here encompassing all addiction support groups) literature and counseling will advise, the addict must "fix" themselves. We cannot do it for them. We cannot hasten the addicts' recovery because we find a better method, or that we have better ears to listen or better words to offer than does the immediate family. The addict may briefly retreat and bathe in the promises of an outsider but the fact remains no repair is complete until the addict decides to enter into, endure, and begin to grow into their own life and the living of it.

This book sends a powerful message to addicts and their life circle of family, friends, and acquaintances. I recommend it. I know some of you reading these comments will relate to them. Thank you Sarah.

Like-Minded Folk

Having listened to a National Public Radio broadcast last week regarding the splintering of America into living in like-minded neighborhoods - we drive the same vehicles, we have small children or teenagers, or we're retired, we speak the same language, we wear the same clothes, we drink the same beer or wine, we VOTE the same, we DISLIKE the same people or groups of people, we work for the same kinds of companies or in the same industries, and on and on so, as I found myself last evening in a buffet line with one of my fellow town citizens, fellow Americans, and someone whom I've known through church and some social events, I recalled the NPR broadcast realizing that there's not much chance that he and I would ever to choose to "splinter" off into the same neighborhood living situation.

He, for whatever reason, began to tell me that small town America is gone, that this nation is on a downright spiral that can never be turned back that if that "guy" Obama was elected there would be no doubt that America was "over." Obama, socialist that he is, has zero going for him. He has no experience, he knows nothing of America's values, his presidency would be a disaster.....(my buffet line friend did say that as long as Obama had a teleprompter he could give a good speech.)

All of this was delivered in rapid fire order with my "friend" becoming angrier and angrier as he spoke. When he took a breath, I suggested that I did not necessarily share his views but since he was so anti-Obama what did he believe McCain's strengths were. Well, he wasn't so sure about McCain but he knew he would be better than Obama. I then suggested that although I respected Mr. McCain's life experiences I felt he would just be a continuance of George Bush's presidency - the worst in our history. To which he replied that Bush hadn't done everything correctly but that he was right in going to war in Iraq and that "everybody else" had screwed things up beginning right after "we declared the war WON in Iraq" and now it was a mess! He granted that McCain is a nice guy but nice guys don't get elected anymore - like they ever did? My counter to that was that I thought George Bush was probably a nice guy - just incapable of being a president.

Taking hardly a breath, he launched into GB being "pushed" into a stand on global warming saying to even consider such a stupid concept was a mistake on the president's behalf. That there are at least 35 scientists in the world that believe there is no such thing as global warming and that dope, Al Gore, who put a story and a book up on a powerpoint screen being awarded the Nobel Peace Prize was the craziest thing he had ever heard of.

My response, both calm and measured, to this enlightenment (I guess that was what it was supposed to be) was that I did not agree with him on the points he had made but that it was interesting to listen to him as his viewpoint on America, the political process, the "won" war, global warming, and such was one that I seldom encountered. I think that was when we parted the buffet line!

So back to my opening comments about listening and choosing to live with like-minded folk - I do not hanker to spend an evening or even a few minutes listening or debating with my "buffet friend" again. And believe me, I am certain he feels the same way!

Regrettably or naturally(?), I would choose to be with like-minded folk rather than attempting to share religious or political views with an angry, adult, narrow minded white American male - (whew, sounds like there's a lot of anger in that sentence.) But truly, I do have friends with different political and religious interpretations that I can share or at least listen to without becoming angry myself....I think.....

Do we grow by only listening to like-minded folk? Do we grow by listening to those we consider less informed than we, more bigoted than we, more judgmental than we? (I threw in the judgmental for obvious reasons there - my biased writing is critically cruel and perhaps bigoted that I would lump a group of angry, adult, etc. - into the mix.) Do we fool ourselves into thinking we are open-minded and progressive, capable of listening to another's point of view without becoming the person to whom we listen but still disagree? What would our gut tell us, what would our religious thermometer tell us, how do we tell our story to someone who is so angry and feels so cheated in their ability to influence the world? Do I listen to like-minded folk so much that my wishful thinking for a better America, for a better world is clouded by the voice of other than like-minded friends who speak what they consider to be the "truth"?

How about your relationships, and I don't mean buffet line talk. Are they capable of holding up under differing religious and political views or do you draw the line and decide to discontinue them because a discouraging word has been "fired across the bow?" I'm asking YOU this question as at the same time I seriously ask myself the same question.

Learning about blogs is obviously an ongoing process - I've just edited a couple of posts that were in my saved files and having diddled around with them, I clicked the post button. They've shown up in the date that they were originated rather than in today's date - go figure:)

Recently forcing myself to break down the accumulating cardboard boxes from the corner of my office, I wondered why I was so reluctant to pitch or recycle them, rather preferring to keep them piled high, every shape and size, gathering dust in a corner.

The cardboard box "commandment" of never throwing away a box, nor paper grocery bag, or any such good, usable item - we might need those "some day"....

Not fond of throwing away rubber bands, paper clips, crinkly unused envelopes, or "dry food clean" ziplock bags (understand that description?), where did my possessive (or compulsive) behavior get its birth?

Was it Timothy Egan's book "The Worst Hard Time" or Al Gore's literary contribution of "An Inconvenient Truth" or was it, as often is the fact, a lesson learned at my mother's knee. You guessed, along with me, Egan and Gore's books were provocative but long before I read either of them I learned through the experience of observing my mother's behavior. My mother who was a child of The Great Depression - who learned at her mother's knee.....not to throw it away, we might need it some day...

After church this a.m., about noon, I set out on a new adventure to experience spanish culture upfront, face-to-face. Full of confidence, and a little trembling, I am not expecting an hour of possibly the most nerve-wracking situation that I've put myself into in years. I literally shake inside for almost an hour.

Since finishing 2 weeks of intensive Spanish study at the community college, I have been planning to visit our local Roman Catholic Church for a service in Spanish, and today is the day! How difficult can it be? I plan to follow along in my Book of Common Prayer, Spanish version, and the service bulletin and be more or less comfortable with what goes along in the service. Yep - Uh-huh!

First of all, I know where I am going, a convenient parking place, I am right on time and don't have to ask anyone where the service is being held...-Donde esta el servicio espanol?- Just follow the Mexican people going in the door - I don't have to say a thing. O.k. in the door, oh this is fine, a small group, lots of kids, an empty seat and I'm in - whew! Well, almost, whew - I now realize that the church is packed and I am in a side seating area where I am quite certain I am being viewed by all persons seated in the nave and there are LOTS of people, lots of kids, and I am right in the eye level line of the priests, gulp. What am I doing here anyway?

My easy answer to that question is that I am going to study, to practice listening in spanish, reading in spanish, greeting, saying hello, small talk - but God has apparently planned a much greater lesson this a.m. than spanish reading, listening, speaking! If the lesson I am learning had been laid out for me in advance I might have said, "yeah, right, what's so difficult about that?"

First of all no one says hello, even with eye contact and a quiet !hola! from me. There are no prayer books, only song books in spanish, the mommy sitting next to me is very concerned about her children not bothering me.....I am so happy to see those little faces smiling at me rather than giving me a blank stare I want to hug them!

O.k., once more I'm in. Just relax, I tell myself. I am relieved to recognize the priest's greeting of -Buenas tardes- and when the band leader announces the song pages I actually recognize the page number (only one of the 4 different page numbers announced from the podium during the service - one out of 4). Oh, and by the way on the songbook full of spanish verses, there is the title in English, printed in small letters at the top of the page.....as if that will help me. However, I am so surprised and thrilled to find the correct page even once as now I can read the spanish and sing along with the tunes....my personal tune not mattering much as the band is very loud!

The song books also allow me to peak over the shoulders in front of me to see where we are, as no one seems too interested in assisting me even when I inquire -que pagina?-

As it is turning out, the songbooks are my only real life preserver through the service; except of course, I do know how to extract money from my handbag for the offering plate, and I do know how to "exchange the peace." I shake every person's hand even remotely close too me. During the exchange, the adults mumble back at me and the children just grin like I am some big white fairy godmother, or gremlin or whatever, sitting in their midst!

The sermon is delivered in words that I can almost sound out, they seem familiar even though I have little idea of what the priest is saying.....he is speaking about the "gran sorpresa" to the Judios and I am feeling a little like the Judios thinking this whole spanish experience is turning out as a "gran sorpresa" for me!

During the communion part of the service, I am certain the priest looks me right in the eye and signals, "don't even think about it senora".....and, of course, I sort of, kind of, recognize the priest's words and the responses, although no one is reading the responses, they are reciting them from memory in different cadences giving me little chance to understand a word they are saying!!

So, as I tell you this tale right now, you can only guess and probably know the lesson that God has given me this day. It's, of course, not about the English vs. Spanish language thing, nor the cultural experience, it's about the intimidating, frightening experience of being all alone in a huge place where I am different from everyone else. I am the lone stranger, I am the timid one in their midst. I am the one who is crying out for a smile, an assuring word from anyone! Fearful of embarrassing myself, fearful of doing something tasteless or wrong or stupid; fearful of committing an error in God's worship place. I am the one who does not know the language or customs. I am the one who asks for the page numbers and looks down or up or absolutely straight ahead as though I am in total control. I am the one who sticks out. I am different.

The most frightening, truly frightening experience of the entire service is near the end, after communion, when Father Pat is making announcements and is asking certain people to stand - my heart nearly stops, believing he is going to ask for guests to stand - I pray, "dear Lord, deliver me" - HE does! No standing required!

I'm not sure I have experienced this alien feeling in my life. Even when living in Asia, I was always with "someone" - colleagues, a spouse, a guide, a child who depended upon my confidence - I was not alone, alone - and then of course, there was an American contingent living there as well, to whom the Asian population was the minority even though WE were living in their midst. That's another story!

So today I am grateful and relieved to have been given this test. I thank God for the courage, really false courage in the beginning to get me there, to sit in the shoes, or pew, of those I have questioned before, and assured before, that they were imagining a lack of love, a lack of inclusiveness, a measure of distasteful discrimination from those around them. Those I've tried to console have assured me they just want to feel safe. Today I had a real taste of how it is to yearn for safety even in God's house - safe in your body, mind and soul. How short sighted have I been to assume others' feelings were that of paranoia rather than true life experience.