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Prayerful Tuesday, November 12, 2013

Posted on November 12, 2013 by a quiet walk

Prayers for the Philippines

(Bullit Marquez/AP/NBC News) Bea Joy Ortega and her Mother Emily — *(Bullit Marquez/AP/NBC News)*
Bea Joy Ortega and her Mother Emily

As Typhoon Hayian struck the Philippines this last weekend I, like so many others, sent my prayers flying that the people would be safe. Of course not everyone was. People in the millions have had everything they know ripped from them by this storm, which so many say is the largest ever to form. More than 10,000 people have lost their lives. The survivors have little food or water, and no shelter. As people from all over the world respond with aid the people of the Philippines, as people try to leave the islands for safer places a miracle occurs. A woman gives birth in an airport. Bea Joy Ortega is born after her Mother Emily swims to safety. A baby is always a sign of hope, a gift of promise. In the hardest of times with death all around life still grows and makes her presence known.

I know there will be those who will say the people of the Philippines must have done something horrible to deserve this act of G-d. I know there will be those who say G-d only does such acts to punish the evil deeds people do. Well I say Bologna! G-d doesn’t punish innocent people in such brutal ways. No one ever deserves to be in the middle of a disaster. We are not uneducated people who have to ascribe to everything that goes wrong in our lives, or the life of our planet, to some mysterious force we happen to call god. G-d is much bigger than that. G-d was with Emily holding her up and helping her swim to a safer place to give birth to a miracle, Bea Joy.

G-d was with each victim who died during the storm and heard their cries of fear and cried with them. The G-d I know is with them still, in the lines waiting for food and water, in the hearts of mothers and fathers who hold their surviving children and family members, in the hearts of those who come bringing food, water, and medicines. The G-d I know is in the hearts of people across the world reaching out with their donations. G-d is in bodies of the volunteers, giving them strength and courage with support and comfort.

No G-d has not abandoned the Philippines rather G-d is in every hand that offers help in some way to a people who are in. So this Prayerful Tuesday I ask that each of you offer up a prayer of your own for the Philippines. G-d will hear and deliver those prayers.

This week the following prayer was posted on Facebook by Christians Tired of Being Misrepresented, a prayer that in the midst of disaster we hear the voice of G-d even in the worst of places and most difficult of times. I offer it to you as my prayer. It is a prayer of peace, a reminder that G-d is not punishing or delivering vengeance, rather G-d is there in your pain and sorry and when you are still you will hear G-ds voice and feel G-ds presence.

God Speaks to Man

I speak to you. Be still – Know I am God.
I spoke to you when you were born. Be still – Know I am God.
I spoke to you at your first sight. Be still – Know I am God.
I spoke to you at your first word. Be still – Know I am God.
I spoke to you at your first thought. Be still – Know I am God.
I spoke to you at your first love. Be still – Know I am God.
I spoke to you at your first song. Be still – Know I am God.
I speak to you through the grass of the meadows. Be still – Know I am God.
I speak to you through the trees of the forests. Be still – Know I am God.
I speak to you through the valleys and the hills. Be still – Know I am God.
I speak to you through the Holy Mountains. Be still – Know I am God.
I speak to you through the rain and snow. Be still – Know I am God.
I speak to you through the waves of the sea. Be still – Know I am God.
I speak to you through the dew of the morning. Be still – Know I am God.
I speak to you through the peace of the evening. Be still – Know I am God.
I speak to you through the splendor of the sun. Be still – Know I am God.
I speak to you through the brilliant stars. Be still – Know I am God.
I speak to you through the storm and the clouds. Be still – Know I am God.
I speak to you through the thunder and lightning. Be still – Know I am God.
I speak to you through the mysterious rainbow. Be still – Know I am God.
I will speak to you when you are alone. Be still – Know I am God.
I will speak to you through the Wisdom of the Ancients. Be still – Know I am God.
I will speak to you at the end of time. Be still – Know I am God.
I will speak to you when you have seen my Angels. Be still – Know I am God.
I will speak to you throughout Eternity. Be still – Know I am God.
I speak to you. Be still – Know I am God.

[God Speaks to Man – Essene Gospel of Peace]

Ruth Jewell, ©November 12, 2013

One Body

Posted on October 5, 2013 by a quiet walk

1 Corinthians 12:12-13: 12For just as the body is one and has many members, and all the members of the body, though many, are one body, so it is with Christ. 13For in the one Spirit we were all baptized into one body—Jews or Greeks, slaves or free—and we were all made to drink of one Spirit.

This last week I have been giving a great deal of thought to the importance of all of the parts of the body. And, it has given me completely new insights on Paul’s words in 1 Corinthians 12:12-31. You see I had a blocked gland removed from the underside of my tongue on Thursday and I have learned just how dependent I am on every part of my body. I mean you try drinking, talking, even breathing without using your tongue for awhile and you will understand what I mean! However, given what has been happening in our nation’s capital it seems ironic that it is my tongue that is giving me a problem.

But enough of the gory details! Paul of course is writing to his wayward community in Corinth, which has a few problems getting along with each other. Does that sound familiar? Paul is telling his young Corinthian faith community they need each other because all of them are important and all are equal in the eyes of Christ. Not unlike the conflict we’ve been seeing in our nation’s capital this past week and I am afraid it will take another Apostle Paul for a resolution to this crisis to be resolved.

What might Paul tell our community today? Well one line he might repeat is “the body does not consist of one member but of many” and that each of the members is needed to perform some task that sustains the whole body. No part of the body could say “I do not belong to the body,” the tongue cannot say “I am in pain, so let the eye take my place,” trust me that isn’t going to happen. Just as the fireman cannot say to the man whose house is on fire I am to important to get my hands dirty, therefore I will not help you. That man’s house will burn down you can be pretty certain of that.

Today in Washington DC and in the rest of this country we have people who are saying just that. “I am to important to feed the hungry, or clothe the poor, or help the sick and elderly, or do anything that would make me see you as important in G-d’s eyes. I have my house with all of my barns stuffed with grain and produce that I have worked for and if you can’t take care of yourself, well that’s not my problem.” What these so called “important” people forget is that someone else prepared the ground, sowed the grain, harvested it and stacked it in his barn, they didn’t do it themselves. Just as in Jesus’ story of the rich man with all those full barns, G-d will come and say “Fool! This night your soul is required of you; and the things you have prepared, whose will they be?” (Luke 12:20) and it will be too late.

Paul told his community, “the members of the body that seem to be weaker are indispensable, and those members of the body that we think less honorable we clothe with greater honor, and our less respectable members are treated with greater respect: whereas our more respectable members do not need this.” (1 Corinthians 12:22-23) Paul’s words ring with the same authority today as they did in the First Century, for those we hold in low esteem in our community are the ones who are harvesting our food, making our clothes and building our houses. Just because they don’t wear a suit and tie, or nice dresses doesn’t make them less valuable to the whole body of our communities. I would love to see the Speaker of the House in the fields of California harvesting lettuce; it would do him and the rest of our politicians good to do some really hard labor. There perspective on what is important would change dramatically, that is if they survive the 14-18 hour, 7 day a week job. Let them live for a year as an elderly person on Medicare and Social Security trying to make ends, trying to pay for food, rent and medical care on the little they have. Or, they could choose to take care of a family whose child has cancer or some other debilitating disorder. Let’s see if they could do any better with the medical bills and all the rest of the needs of a family on $50,000 a year.

Each of the “unimportant people” are part of the body of this country, and of the body of G-d. In fact according to G-d they are more important than those who sit in the “great halls of government.” For G-d tells us all “do not abuse any widow or orphan,” (Exodus 22:22) or “oppress a resident alien.” (Exodus 23:9) But those verses are conveniently forgotten.

We are all part of the body of G-d, of creation and the creator. We are all part of our country and world, whether you are a business person, a working person, a widow, a widower, orphan, or an immigrant to this country or any country. Each and every one of us is important to the wellbeing of us all and the Creator’s purpose for us as a whole people. No one is more important than the other; we all have our tasks to do in this life that will lead us into the next life. This week I learned a lesson that every part of the body is important no matter how insignificant I might think it is.

The tongue can be an instrument for good will, or a sword that hurts and divides us all. My tongue hasn’t always been a good instrument. Just like ever one else there here have been times when I have said hurtful things to others and I can’t take those words back, as much as I might wish too. Yet I have also spoken words of kindness and caring that I hope in the eyes and ears of G-d outweigh the bad.

This week has made me aware of the incredible gift of all parts of the body, the seemingly insignificant, and the ones that I erroneously hold in high honor. We all have the power to be good gifts of the body, the body of our country and world, and the body of the Spirit. No matter how insignificant each of us seems to be each is important to the functioning of this grand creation gifted to us by the creator. Paul ends his short discourse on gifts of the body with the words: “But strive for the greater gifts. And I will show you a still more excellent way.” Each of us has the potential within to do even greater things than we do. It takes each of us to encourage those gifts in each other such that we all prosper, just as the Creator wants.

Ruth Jewell, ©October 5, 2013

More than Enough

Posted on September 9, 2013 by a quiet walk

Matthew 25: 40 And the king will answer them, “Truly I tell you, just as you did it to one of the least of these who are members of my family, you did it to me.”

Saturday John and I welcomed a new family member into our home. A small stray dog rescued by the Sonoma County Animal Shelter. She is a 5-year-old Chihuahua who is also completely blind. For someone she was simply a throw away life, to John, me and my cousin, who brought her up from California, she is a delight; sweet-tempered and loving.

As John and I prepared for her arrival I began to reflect on how privileged I am. How privileged all of us are. We have enough to eat, nice clothes to wear, clean drinking water, and warm homes that shelter us. We are, for the most part, healthy and able to get around without assistance. In general we all have friends who welcome us, even if we do not have family. We have all been well-educated, never experiencing or having very little experience of being prevented from learning, or doing whatever we choose to do.

We walk our streets without fear of being shot by snipers, or being killed by daily shelling or in the crossfire of combatants. We know where our children are and have no fear about sending them to school or leaving them alone. We can shop for anything in the world; shoes, clothes, and food in quantities the rest of the world finds totally amazing. We think nothing of ordering from Amazon a new electronic gadget or, in my case, books of every kind. Do you realize the poorest of us in Snohomish and King Country has more than those that live in Darfur? The poorest in this country would be considered wealthy by many in third world countries.

Right now our government is deciding whether to intervene in Syria and my honest prayer is “please let’s not do this.” But the issue of this intervention is way more complicated than just not wanting to because I am “tired of war” and “I don’t want to open a new front that will suck more of our much needed funds away.” I am not the one being shelled, I am not the one being poisoned, and I am not the one in the cross-hairs. My heart goes out to those caught in a war zone and am frustrated because there is so little I can do to help except send my prayers.

I realize I am embarrassed by my riches. What makes me worth more than those in Syria, or homeless of Nicklesville Tent City, or refugees in Darfur? So my prayers this week have been extremely troubled. How do I make a difference? How do I help the poorest in this country and the rest of the world? How do I follow in the steps of the one I choose to follow? I am afraid, uncertain, confused, and unsure. I am overwhelmed by the enormity of what the heart of my heart calls me to do. My prayers and my small offerings seem inadequate. But that is what I have to offer. There is a line from a poem by John Phillip Newell that I practically like, “Be strong and let your heart take courage.” That is what I am trying to do. I can’t do a lot but my little bit just might be helpful.

Adopting Suzie, one of G-d’s children thrown to the side of the road, is a small thing. And in all that I have been blessed with I have more than enough to live my life. Sharing out of what I have been blessed with only adds to my riches in a new way. Therefore, I vow to give out of all I’ve been blessed with by doing many small things and maybe if we all did small things they would add up to a collective big thing. All we have to do is everyday give a small thing out of our great abundance and maybe, just maybe, we might change the world. For me one of those small things is to never stop praying because it may seem inadequate at the time but calling out to G-D in heartfelt sincerity and surrender is never a waste of my time and leads me to actions that benefit others. Life is full of choices and I choose to be more giving of the blessings I’ve received.

In the short-term none of what I do may change how the homeless are treated, whether injustices are set right, or whether or not we go to war. In the long-term it will be only G-d who will remember how a lost heart was pointed to a better path. My small offering will be just one more strand strengthening the ever-growing fabric of life. I find that to be amazing and astounding and more than enough to keep me going.

Ruth Jewell, ©September 9, 2013

Prayerful Tuesday, Paying It Forward, August 27, 2013

Posted on August 27, 2013 by a quiet walk

Prayer Practice of Paying It Forward

Paying it forward is described as the recipient of a good deed turning and doing a good for some else instead of rewarding the donor. It is based on the idea that if everyone shared what they had the world would be a better place. Today, this week, I would like you to practice the “Prayer of Paying It Forward.”

Examine your own lives and identifying when someone gave you something special, helped you out when you were in bad place, or lifted your spirits when you were depressed. Let the memory of what they did fill you again with the joy of a generous gift. Now as you go through your day and through this week you may meet someone who also is in need of a special helping hand, a word of praise, someone to listen to. Offer to them a moment of your time, a word or phrase to cheer, or gift of physical resources without expecting acknowledgement or repayment. If they ask just tell them to “help someone in the future when they need it.”

Today’s prayer:

A Celtic Prayer

‘Maintain the right of the lowly,
rescue the weak and the needy.’
Psalm 82

Let me be awake to life
In my soul and in my seeing
Let me be alive to the gift of grace
of each person I meet
Let me be fully alive
Let me be fully aware
Of earth, of sky, of sea,
Of every human family
of all creations glory
Let this day be my prayer to thee
Amen

Ruth Jewell, ©August 27, 2013

A Prayer for the 4th of July, 2013

Posted on July 4, 2013July 4, 2013 by a quiet walk

Holy Spirit, as we celebrate our country’s birth I lift up in prayer the people in our nation who are hungry and homeless, who protect our streets, homes and country here and in far places, our President who carries the burden of responsibility to guide us and his family. Please keep all safe from harm here and abroad. I also lift up our elected leaders in our cities where they walk the frontlines of budget with less funding, poverty, hunger and homelessness, and keeping our streets safe. I lift up our state leaders who struggle with budgets that are bigger than state incomes as they make difficult choices about funding education, infrastructure, and public services. I lift up in prayer our national leaders who are in such conflict with each other. On this day of celebration help them to overcome their differences to become the effective leaders we elected them to be. I lift up those who come to our shores looking for a better life, help them to discover their dream and find friendship and love in our community. Most of all, Abiding Spirit, I lift up our planet and ask for forgiveness for the damage we have done to your creation. Creator help us find our way to healing our relationship with the Earth, each other and you. Amen

Who’s Cross

Posted on July 3, 2013July 3, 2013 by a quiet walk

Mark 8:34 And he called to him the multitude with his disciples, and said to them, “If any man would come after me, let him deny himself and take up his cross and follow me.

I love the Gospel of Mark, it encourages me to ask questions and this verse in his gospel is one of those that drives me crazy with questions. The reason is I’m not sure whose cross I’m supposed to carry. If I take it literally, which is how it is most often interpreted, then I am to bear “my” cross and follow Jesus. But If I look at this scripture from the way Jesus responded to all of those who did follow him and surrounded him as he taught, then, this verse takes on new meaning for me.

What if, just what if, Jesus is telling us to carry the cross of someone who is suffering and not our own cross. Yes I know that flies in the face of orthodox interpretation but then I’m not orthodox. Those in my ecclesial tradition of the Christian Church (Disciples of Christ) read and interpret scripture and Holy Writings for ourselves. We do have to defend our interpretation and in that defense we either modify or enlarge our understanding of what scripture has to say. So here is my defense of my interpretation Mark 8:34 that “the cross Jesus is asking us to pick up is not ours but the cross of my neighbor and both of us then follow Jesus.”

First of all these words of Jesus are recorded in all three of the synoptic Gospels, but not in John. Now it could be that Matthew and Luke simply copied Mark, after all they used Mark as their blueprint for their own Gospels. But, the fact that it appears almost word for word in each of three synoptic Gospels leads me to believe this was something Jesus did say or could have said. Jesus also never said anything that would contradict what he “did” throughout his life of a servant to the disadvantaged, displaced, ill, elderly and disabled. Jesus’ life as it was recorded in the synoptic Gospels was less about what he said and all about what he did.

It is also one of the verses that is almost always misused or misquoted to, or by, those who are having a difficult time. How often have you heard the words “well that is my (your) cross to bear.” Something about that phrase has always bothered me. It’s used to trivialize suffering or difficult times for people and I think that is wrong. I don’t believe that Jesus would have ever told anyone that and I believe the “traditional” interpretation of this verse of carrying my own cross may not be what Jesus had in mind when he called to his disciples and the multitude.

Jesus always cared for those who could not care for themselves. His ministry was to those who had been discarded by society, bringing them back into relationship with their communities and with God. We often see him tired and totally worn out from giving of himself to those who needed him. And my question is; is that not carrying the cross of the other long? In fact we see death in so many ways in the ministry of Jesus, and not just Lazarus (John 11:41-43), a widow’s son (Luke 7:14), or Jairus’ little girl (Matthew 9:25, Mark 5:41, Luke 8:54). We see those who are dead and buried simply because they don’t fit society’s profile of “normal,” the blind, the infirm, and the mentally disabled and we see them resurrected from their death to life by Jesus who returns them to their communities. Every story of healing is a story of death and resurrection and it is Jesus who takes the burdens, i.e. their crosses, of those who have died to life restoring them to family and community. Jesus was teaching a Way of Life, and, one in which we as his followers were to emulate. That means caring for those who have died to society, bringing them back to life by restoring them to God, their families, and their communities. If we are going to be followers of Jesus then it is not our salvation that we are to be concerned with. No, it is the resurrection and life of those who have been pushed outside of society and left to die to life.

Now don’t get me wrong, I don’t believe the way I reach God is the only way. I believe there are many paths to God and each person will find their own path in their own good way and time. But If I am carrying the cross of those who are disadvantaged than I do it in the name of my faith in Jesus and give the space for those who are in my care to find the best way forward in their own way. To relieve the suffering of others, carrying their cross, is enough for my task. I can’t make the decisions as to how the move forward for them that is their choice. It could be that they choose to refuse my help and that is OK, they then have chosen to remain where they are in their spiritual lives.

Jesus never forced his pathway on anyone so why should I. Remember the story of the 10 Lepers (Luke 17:12-19)? Jesus healed ten but only one returned to thank him. Jesus asks where the other nine were but that’s as far as it goes. He doesn’t take revenge on them by making them lepers again just because they didn’t return to follow him. He let them choose their own path so that is what we are to do as well. (Here is a side note from this former statistician: actually 10% isn’t a bad response, in most instances you can expect only a 10% to 20% return on anything you put forward.)

So carrying the cross of someone else means opening a door for them, or clearing a pathway that allows them to return to a right relationship with God, no matter what that may look like for any particular individual. It means walking along side someone supporting their burdens while they sort out their lives and relationship with God no matter how they worship, or name God. Not an easy task for sure. We can see the effects on Jesus throughout scripture in his perpetual fatigue. Yet Jesus never complained and that too is a goal we are to reach for and it too is very difficult.

Now the next question is, if I am carrying someone else’s cross who is carrying mine. And that’s a tricky question. Do you remember that during the trip to Golgotha Simon of Cyrene (Matthew 27: 32, Mark 15:21, Luke 23:26) was conscripted into carrying Jesus cross? This, for means me, Simon supported Jesus’ burdens and Jesus was now the one who was in need of life. Jesus find life in his own resurrection, a resurrection had had given to so many others throughout his lifetime.

My lesson of the scripture is someone else is walking with me and supporting my burdens while I support the burdens of those who are disadvantaged. The person supporting my burdens is Jesus and I am supporting Jesus’ burdens in my walking in the way He taught. Now that is a big cross to carry! I am not sure I know how to fulfill this task, but I do know that I’m not alone; in fact I am never alone. I have others on the same pathway and I always have the presence of Christ and the Holy Spirit to hold me up and cheer me on. I am not perfect at following the teaching of Jesus but grateful that He’s not too picky and forgives me my all too often mistakes and stumbles. While I strive to be Jesus like I often miss the mark and that means I’m not always helpful. All I am asked to do is to keep trying and moving forward on the path. I mean after all he taught those 12 male disciples and they never got it right so I figure I’m in good company.

Life is what I want, for me and for all that I meet. It’s not my job or task to determine what that life will look like for someone else, I only need to worry about what mine looks like. That is sufficient unto the day. All Christ, God, and Holy Spirit want is for me to try, that’s all, and I am forgive my wanderings from the path and am welcomed back when I find it again. That is all I can do, that is all any of us can do.

May your journey be a joyful one, but if it’s not then I pray that you let someone support you and help you back into life.

©Ruth Jewell, July 3, 2013

a bit of gardening

Posted on April 30, 2013 by a quiet walk

This past week John and I did a bit of gardening. We had a rosemary bush being shaded by another bush and I wanted to move it. So we prepared the new spot where it was to go, dug the new hole and went over to our lovely rosemary bush. Now you should know I planted this bush 6 or 7 years ago and I haven’t touched it to really prune it in 5 years. That means it wasn’t a small bush. For the last 5 years it has been doing a wonderful job of growing as it now stood nearly 5 feet tall and had a spread of closer to 6 feet. But, we started pruning and pruning, and pruning. Some of the branches were more than an inch thick and really woody (great in our fireplace though). After being prickled and rosemary scented by our bush we got down to digging the roots up. I never knew this about rosemary but it puts down ROOTS, not little roots, big ones and deep. Also, they extended farther than the drip line of the bush which made finding the ends of the plant actually very difficult. We ended up cutting a lot of roots because we couldn’t find where they stopped. But we moved our tenacious plant and got it planted in its new home and it is doing well enjoying all the sun it wants and lots of water.

After we were finished and cleaning up I remembered something about rosemary. First of all rosemary, in flower language, means remembrance and that sweet, huge, tough bush reminded me of just how persistent our memories are. Deep within each of us lives a world that was. Sometimes it surfaces when we least expect it whether we want it to or not. But our past makes us who we are and embracing the happy, the sad, the good with the bad memories helps balance our present. Learning from my past mistakes and successes provides me with a road map for my way forward. All of those memories connect me to something greater than just this single moment in time. It is also the memories of those who modeled the best of their lives which have led me to being a better person in my own life.

It is the memory of my parents and how they loved and cared for me that has taught me to be a more loving and caring wife, friend, and grandmother. It was my parent’s determination to model a life that included people of all backgrounds, races, genders, and abilities that has given me a passion for my openness to those who are different from me. It was my father’s love of creation and prayer and silence that has been my model for my spiritual growth throughout my life. It was a first grade teacher’s kindness to this wounded child that taught me anything is possible if you put your mind to it.

The memories I have of wandering open fields, lying in new mown grass, making storybook figures out clouds, and reading a book while I sat in the crook of an old apple tree gave me a love of open spaces. I have precious memories of being awakened at midnight to watch the Aurora Borealis with my father, or going out to our barn to watch as calves or puppies were born that hold a special place in my heart. It is remembering thunder storms roll across our fields and listening as the rain pummeled the tin roof of our barn, or rushed through the branches of the huge pine tree that was just outside my bedroom window that draws me into a place of contemplation and peace like nothing else can.

It is the memory of pulling a deep fat fryer full of hot grease down on top of me that reminds me that accidents happen but I am not alone even in the worst of times. It is the memory of a child in the hospital bed next to me who died during the night that taught me that fresh grief is always inconsolable. It is the memory of uncaring questions by adults and taunts of other children that taught me that sometimes people can be cruel. The memory of my father’s death from cancer keeps me asking “why” questions of God and doubting the fairness of life the Scripture tells me is good. It was being laid off for a year that taught me to let go of my fears, face them, then hand them over to the all surrounding presence that has always been in my life. It is the memory of my discovery of how much I have been surrounded by the Spirit that has changed me from who I was into the person I am today. Memories are the soil of our lives; mine goes deep with plenty of memory leaf compost and with each day. With each new memory made the soil gets deeper and richer.

The best part is that each of us has our own bed of memories to draw upon. Some are wonderful, insightful memories, some are horrid memories we would rather forget entirely, but by facing them we turn those bad memories into rich memory compost. Even the memories of death and destruction have a place in our lives, just as the memories of our mother’s arms around us does. Each memory adds to who we are and allows us to see who we were. Memories are the mirrors of our soul and how our soul has grown into who we are. For the good and bad memories are who we are. In learning to live with what we remember gives us the skills we need to live in the world we share with all of creation.

Creation, life, isn’t always fair or beautiful to our eyes. But, we don’t see the big picture; we see only our very small portion. Like an ant on a forest floor the view of our individual world of reality is very small. What we remember of our past helps us see the greater picture. Memories give us a wider view of the life that lies before us and behind us. Our memories connect us to those we have loved, and hated, giving us a past to live from.

Not having a past cuts us off from our life today. It is the reason those with Alzheimer’s, dementia or traumatic brain injuries that affects memory feel so cut off from the world around them. They have nothing to compare today with so how do they know what today means; how do they relate to people and the world around them. The greatest gift we can give those who cannot remember is to give them a piece of their past to ground them in the now moment of their lives and to do it every moment, every hour, every day we are with them. The joy of someone who discovers their own past is amazing and life giving.

Memories are the soil we stand on, the ground of our lives that allows us to live better lives today and tomorrow. Rosemary, the plant of remembrance, is tough, strong, and sweet and I want to remember my yesterdays to make my tomorrows tough, strong, and sweet.

Ruth Jewell ©April 30, 2013

HOME

Posted on April 12, 2013 by a quiet walk

Ruth 1:16-17

¹⁶But Ruth said,
“Do not press me to leave you
or to turn back from following you!
Where you go, I will go;
Where you lodge, I will lodge;
your people shall be my people,
and your God my God.
¹⁷Where you die, I will die—
there will I be buried.
May the Lord do thus and so to me,
and more as well,
if even death parts me from you!”

John 14:23
²³Jesus answered him, “Those who love me will keep my word, and my Father will love them, and we will come to them and make our home with them.

2 Corinthians 5:6-9
⁶So we are always confident; even though we know that while we are at home in the body we are away from the Lord— ⁷for we walk by faith, not by sight. ⁸Yes, we do have confidence, and we would rather be away from the body and at home with the Lord. ⁹So whether we are at home or away, we make it our aim to please him.

Our book group has been reading and discussing Diana Butler Bass’ book, Christianity After Religion, and in Chapter 6 Bass discusses home and identity. I actually had trouble with this section because I’m not sure what is home for me. I mean I have a home; I live in a house, with my husband, one dog, 2 parrots and a seminary student so that isn’t the issue. What is my question is “what does home mean?”

I grew up in Ohio and moved to a farm when I was 5 years old so for the next 19 years of my life my “home” was this wonderland place chock full of discoveries, and sadness. When I was 24 I moved from the farm and began a kind of nomadic life. I moved every couple of years from home to apartment, state to state, city to city, and moving many times within cities. My latest move was in 2000, when I was married, and moved into the house I am now living. When I moved into this house I told John, this was my last move and I would be carried out of here feet first because I wasn’t going to pack up all my “stuff” again! But, given my past history that may be a wish made on sand and someday I will have to, reluctantly, move from this house.

When we discussed what was home in our book group I realized I was the only one who had no clear sense of home. In fact I have no sense of a home town, or place of origin at all. All of the places I have lived are really far in the past and clouded with time. Does that sound strange to you? It didn’t to me until I began to listen to the stories of home from others. For instance my husband can identify one spot as his hometown, St. Charles Iowa. That is where he was born and grew up and despite not living there for 50 some years he still calls it home.

I can’t do that; there is no one place I would call home. Heck, there are times when I drive up my own driveway that I have to remind myself this is my “home” and I belong here. For me where I am is home. As long as I have my friends, companion critters and now the family I married into I’m home. I don’t have relatives to speak of. My parents have passed on; I haven’t seen any of my family of origin in 40 some years. The family I have is the family I have created around me, a group of individuals, couples, and families I feel strong connections with. Not one of them is a blood relative and that is fine with me. Yet I feel closer to this group than I ever did to my blood relations.

It is not that they all think like I do because they don’t. In fact, my guess is we have become friends because we think differently. But they share something with me that my “own family” never did and that is themselves. If I need a shoulder to cry on I can count on one of them showing up at my door saying, “Ruth, I had a feeling you needed a friend today.” Even when great distance separates us I can sense when a good friend needs me to call and talk. The conversation may be nothing important at all but it means something to my friend and me. I can’t say my own family would ever feel that connected to me.

For me home is where I am, right now, in this place, at this time. It means for me being with God, family, companions, friends, creation in whatever place or time I am in. If I had to suddenly leave the place I currently shelter in I can do it. I would grab what is important: my husband, my companion critters, my backpack throw in my bible and a change of clothes (my vanity wouldn’t let me wear the same underwear two days in a row, I’d add soap as well for cleanliness is next to Godliness),and walk out closing the door behind me. The stuff in the building is just stuff and can be replaced, none of it is important. As long as I have those that I love (and a change of underwear) I’m good to go. Were I end up I’d be HOME.

So I guess I am saying I am “home” wherever I am, I don’t need a specific location to call “home” I just need to feel close to what is important and what is important is love and companionship with those who I love and who love me. God will not abandon me, where I am God is because I experience God in the love I give and receive. What else is needed? Someone once said “home is where your heart is” and maybe what that means is my heart is my home, the ultimate shelter, the ultimate place I meet and live with Love. I am Home.

4 Amazing Women, 2 Weddings, 1 Weekend

Posted on January 25, 2013 by a quiet walk

Last weekend was a busy one. I have 4 amazing friends all four who chose that weekend to marry. Not only that but one of the brides from Sunday officiated and married the first two on Saturday. Just how cool is that! None of this would have even been possible if R 74 had not passed and it would have been, and it was, a crime that these 4 beautiful, intelligent and loving women were unable to publically celebrate their love just as every other loving couple does. It is with gratitude and thanks to the people of Washington State who past R 74. If any of you ask was it worth it? All you have to do is look at the faces of these 4 beautiful people.

On January 23 Heather and Aubrey celebrated their commitment and love with great fanfare and joy. On Sunday January 24 ML and Judy celebrated their 19 years together with a joyful ceremony of commitment and love. So with great love, congratulations and the raising of the wedding cup I congratulate the joining of two couples who belong together.

Heather and Aubrey may you live long lives together. May the strength you gain from each other sustain you over the rough places in your journey, and may your hearts soar together when all is smooth sailing.

ML and Judy, over the last 19 years you have loved each other unconditionally even when our state said you couldn’t. Such love deserves to be recognized and celebrated. God blessed your union 19 years ago and you have waited long enough to celebrate that blessing. Thank you for sharing your joy with the rest of us.

As each of you travel together on life’s journey may the Holy Spirit surround you, may Christ lift you up if you stumble, and may God hold you in palm of Her hand whenever you are weary. Shalom my friends.

The Innkeeper, a Christmas Story

Posted on December 22, 2012December 22, 2012 by a quiet walk

Jacob was in a delighted panic, there were more people in his Inn than he had ever had before. While giving thanks to the Romans would be condemned by the Temple authorities he was certainly thankful for this emperor’s whim. Now if only he could find time to sit down to enjoy all of those shekels he was collecting. Sara, his wife, was busy in the kitchen cooking a meal for their paying guests and for their own abundant family who weren’t paying because his wife wouldn’t let him charge them. Family, sometimes you can’t live without them but tonight he would like to try.

Now Jacob loved his kind and gentle Sara, but sometimes her kindness was irritating. After all Jacob had to provide for his family. His son, Isaiah, had only just reached manhood, although he was a big help to him tonight. Isaiah was carrying water to all of the paying guests (let his relatives get their own) and taking care of the animals. Jacob’s two girls were busy in the kitchen with their mother and while Elizabeth was still a little small she was working just as hard as her older sister, Rebecca. Over all Jacob was very happy, his Inn was full and he had a box full of money. He should not only be able to pay the tax collector (May YHWH rain fire down on his head!) but also have sufficient money for the next several months. There might even be enough left over to put a little aside for his daughters dowries.

Jacob was suddenly shaken out of his revere by a call from his son.

“Father, there are two more in the courtyard.”

Jacob threw up his hands and ran out to tell them that he had no more room and that they should move on. When Jacob opened the door a tall man greeted him. A very pregnant young woman was perched on a donkey behind him. Jacob had to admit she looked very tired and uncomfortable.

“Excuse me, my wife and I would like a room to spend the night. If you don’t have a room a corner would do. Mary, my wife, is expecting and she is very tired. We have money to pay and I will take care of the donkey myself.”

“I’m sorry we don’t have any rooms,’ Jacob said, “and to be honest with you I don’t think there are rooms free anywhere else in Bethlehem right now. This mandated census has filled all the Inns. My suggestion would be that you go up into the hills above the city and find a cave. At least it would be out of the wind. Good night to you.”

“Jaaa…cob, Isaiah tells me there is a woman with child out there”.

Jacob turned around and groaned as he faced his wife Sara. “Sara we don’t have any room! Where would we put them?” Taking one look at his wife’s face he said “Oh no! I am not giving up my bed! I am tired and will need to get some sleep tonight if I am to deal with all of these people tomorrow!”

Sara patiently looked at her red-faced husband; she knew he wasn’t as hard-hearted as some thought he was, he just had to be nudged once in a while. “Well we can’t turn out a pregnant woman (may the LORD bless her child!), she looks like she is going to deliver any time now! This census is bringing people out on the roads that shouldn’t be there! Don’t you dare send them to the caves! She’s pregnant Jacob, there are thieves up there and they will be robbed or worse! Do you really want that on your hands? Jacob, money isn’t everything.”

Jacob groaned again. “Well, where do you propose we put them?”

“Isaiah”, Sara called, “get me some blankets and a lamp. Jacob, the stable has a corner that is warm and dry, and you won’t charge them either!”

The man at the door had been looking on as the Innkeeper and his wife argued and now said, “Please, we will be glad to pay, we have some of our own supplies, we just need a place to rest.”

“No,” Jacob sighed, “Sara’s right, we can’t charge you for a night in the stable. Isaiah will take you around the back and help his mother get you settled.” Isaiah ran up with the bedding. “Take them around to the stable and fix the stall on the west wall, it’s the driest and warmest. Then come back and help Rebecca take some warm food and wine out to our guests.”

The gentlemen started to protest, “No, sir, it is the least we can do. If you need anything during the night just knock on the door at the back, Isaiah will be sleeping there tonight and he will do what he can.”

The man looked very relieved, “thank you all so very much, you are very kind. This is Mary’s first child and we have traveled so very far today. My name is Joseph and I am a carpenter, if you need anything repaired or need any work done while we are here I will be glad to do it.” Talking softly to his young wife, who turns and smiles her thanks at the innkeeper, Joseph turns, takes the donkey’s lead and follows Isaiah.

Sara looks lovingly at her husband. “You old softy, I knew you couldn’t turn them away.”

“Go, woman, and prepare some food for these people. At least I’ll be able to get that back room lintel fixed. Oh yes, I’ll take him up on his offer, he is an honorable man and I won’t embarrass him, go, go!” Jacob looks outside as he turns to close the door, “my goodness it is bright outside, almost like daylight, there must be a full moon.”

Blessings and Peace to all this Christmastide!

This story was written for the 2009 Christmas Eve Service and I offer it here to all of you as my Christmas Gift.