Friends – Page 9 – A Quiet Walk

Thunder Storm

Posted on May 4, 2013 by a quiet walk

A mountain moves toward me
white and gray, filled with rain
suddenly a flash of light
one thousand one
one thousand two
one thousand three
one thousand four
one thousand five, Boom, Crash
five miles,
the storm is five miles away
the air is heavy, the first scent of ozone reaches me

Hurry gather the chickens into their coop
the normally combative rooster runs in first
with clucks and cheeps the hens settle on
their roosts and nests
the now brave rooster hurry’s me out
A flash of light
one thousand one
one thousand two
one thousand three, Boom, Crash
three miles
the storm is moving quickly
the light is fading

Run to the barn and open the gate
to the lounging area
the cows already are waiting to be let in
horses move toward the opening
one recalcitrant pony stands in the middle of the pasture
yelling at the storm, “I command you to stay away”
the wind blows his black main and tail back, the storm moves
closer . . . a flash of light, and the brave soul runs for the barn
hooves flashing, neck stretched out and ears flat
as the first big drops of rain fall on his back he darts into the barn
the other animals look at him
“Didn’t work did it”, a flash of light
one thousand one, Boom, Crash,
one mile
I climb the steps to the hay loft with the dog and cat
and throw biscuits of hay down to the animals, Flash
one thou…. Boom, Crash
the storm is on me,
too late to reach the house

I settle down into the hay loft
dog and cat curl up beside me
rain pounds the tin roof
in a symphony to put Beethoven to shame
lightening and thunder come together now
flashing light and sound through and around the barn
rain rushes and pours off the roof,
the old pine and maple trees bend and sway in the wind and water
rivulets of water run down into the pasture
making ponds and small streams
the smell of wet earth, rain, and ozone fills the troubled air

the horses and cattle mill around down below
the scent of their warm bodies drift up to me
I hear a rustle in the beams of the barn and
Pigeons and sparrows settle in to share my shelter
in a corner, far from the barn owl, who also lives here
a meadow mouse sits and nibbles a bit of grain
sharing my space in companionable silence
many call this barn home, cattle, horses, owls,
pigeons, sparrows, mice and rabbits
it is a sanctuary, a safe place
a place where all live in harmony
at least until they leave its safe walls

The loft is warm, the hay sweetly scented
Using the dog as a pillow I lay down to wait out the storm
I listen to the horses and cattle talk
the pigeons rustle and coo
slowly the rain and thunder lulls me into a place of calm
time stops and I drift into creation

Ruth Jewell ©May 4, 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

The Liebster Award

Posted on April 13, 2013 by a quiet walk

What Wonder Comes When We Least Expect

April 13, 2013

What is the “Liebster Blog Award?”

The Liebster award is given to up and coming bloggers to encourage them to continue their work. What is a Liebster? The meaning: Liebster is German and means sweetest, kindest, nicest, dearest, beloved, lovely, kind, pleasant, valued, cute, endearing, and welcome.

It’s an award that was reputedly started in Germany in order to give smaller bloggers recognition for their hard work. You receive this award from a fellow blogger that feels your blog is both worthy & important to them. If you receive this award, there are two rules.

1. You must award 3-5 other bloggers with the award. In this case, it is five.
2. The bloggers awarded must have less than 300 followers.

Participation is completely voluntary and is not limited to any genre or writing for that matter. Basically, the blog can be about anything and simply has to be one that you feel is worthy and that you would like to give recognition to by passing it on.

I am honored to have been nominated by http://sandyshopefulroom.com/ , it was a lovely surprise to be seen as a blogger worth nominating. Thank you again Sandy’s Hopeful Room.

In the rules of the award I am supposed to nominate 3 to 5 other bloggers but because I am an intermittent blogger I really don’t follow that many. Also this requires a bit of time and writing and I wouldn’t want to force anyone to do something they are uncomfortable with. Therefore I am going to nominate 3 for the award and if all they want to do is accept the nomination as Honorary that is just fine with me. I did some research and found you can accept this as an Honorary Liebster award. So I am accepting this nomination for the Liebster award but leave it open to other to accept as honorary or at whatever level they feel comfortable with. Below are the rules for both:

Here are the rules for receiving this honorary award:

Accept the award with a statement of gratitude
Post the award on your blog

If you choose to follow the complete rules here they are:

Answer the questions the person has posted for them
Answer the questions that the tagger set for you plus create questions for the people you’ve tagged to answer.
Choose 5 to 10 people and link them in your post.
Go to their page and tell them.
Post the award on your blog

Some Interesting information about me;

I am a 66 year old perpetual student
I have just completed my second masters degree, a Masters of Divinity and am discerning whether or not I am called to ordained in the Christian Church (Disciples of Christ)
I am graduating from the School of Theology and Ministry, Seattle University on June 16, 2013
I love to read. I am currently reading Gracias by Henri Nouwen, Written That You May Believe by Sandra Schneiders, and (for about the 10^th time) The Hobbit by JRR Tolkien
I love to sit in silence and listen for the word offered me by the All Surrounding Presence
Life for me is simply one big adventure that I dive into with all I have
I love visiting our grandchildren in Boston, 4 year old Amelia and 6 year old Liam, for they bring me great joy in their discovery of life.
I love playing with my two parrots, Green Cheeked Amazon George, and Cherry Head Conure Cuddles (also known as Carlos the South American terror) and our beautiful dog Fred.
I love to travel with my husband John to new and amazing places
I love to cook and watch others enjoy the food I prepare
I love my friends, all of them, from the youngest to the oldest for they enrich my life in ways I cannot explain.

Here are the answers to the questions Sandy has asked of me:

1. Who is my mentor?

My mentor, or I should say mentors, are those who model the best of who they are in life. Three of my mentors are my pastor who has shown me what compassion is; my Regional Minister who has shown me the true meaning of courage; and my husband who has shown me what it means to love and be loved.

2. Who is your favorite author?

Now this is a hard question for I have many favorites. I currently have 4 that I am enamored with: Joyce Rupp, John Phillip Newell, Henri Nouwen, and Brian McLaren.

3. Where did you go on your best vacation and why?

Last December I went on a cruise in the Caribbean. I love cruises they have only as much activity as I want to engage in and a great deal of space and time for meditation and contemplation. The cruise to the Caribbean gave me the opportunity to meet people of another culture and discover their kindness and generosity and offer my gratitude. Our time in Caribbean was a time of engaging creation in unexpected ways.

4. Do you have a motto you live by?

Micah 6:8

5. If you could be anyone in the world (alive or dead), who would that be?

I’m not sure I could be anyone other than who I am after all it has taken me 66 years of errors and successes to get here. If I were anyone else I would not be who I have become and therefore probably not answering these questions. If anything intrigues me at all it is who I might be if I were born 1 or 2 hundred years into the future. It would be interesting to know how our world, society and culture will survive these tumultuous years. I guess I would really want to know if we a people have grown spiritually or have we given away our humanity.

6. What is your favorite movie?

Now this is a difficult question, as I am not much of a movie person but if I had to choose I think the Princess Bride is one of my favorites. I like movies that are light and escapist or provide me with something to think about. So I also like The Lord of the Rings because it gives me insight into what it means to faithfully follow ones task even if you haven’t actually chosen it. I also love science fiction because it offers today’s issues in new settings that helps me to see them from a different angle.

7. Newspapers, Internet News or Television News?

I am a hard copy, paper reading, and book holding in my hands kind of person. The electronic media leaves me a cold so the newspaper I like is our local paper, The Everett Herald, from Everett Washington.

8. When do you do your best writing?

Five minutes before it’s due. Well not quite that bad, but, I do often wait until the last minute to write something. Although I once wrote a homily for Morning Prayers on the bus in route to chapel and it turned out to be one of my best.

9. Morning person or night person?

I am definitely a morning person.

10. Name one news story that fascinates you right now.

I am currently struggling with all of the issues associated with gun control. I do not understand our countries fascination with weapons and am trying to come to grips with the violence guns, and all weapons, have on our society. I am mortified and saddened by the violence against innocents that happens every day and I am confused by those who claim that more access to violent means will make it all better. No one has given me a satisfactory explanation for any of this horror.

11. What would you want to do if you knew you had one week to live?

What would I do, well I think I would take the time to hold my family in my arms one more time and then sit and watch the sunrise over the Cascade Mountains and set over Puget Sound. I would listening to my dog and birds play, the song sparrows at the feeder and the Jays squabble. That would be my last sounds here on this earth. Then I would open my arms and let the new adventure begin.

So here are my questions for you:

If you could choose anywhere to live where would it be and why?
What is you favorite piece of music?
What is your favorite book?
What period in time would you most like to live?
What would be your ideal purpose in life?
What task is your least favorite, ever?
What world issue are you current struggling with?
Name one or two people who have been mentors in your life?
If you had to live today over in what ways would it be different?

I am nominating the following Bloggers:

http://cloakedmonk.com/

http://justbetweentheridges.wordpress.com/

http://followingmypathatplts.wordpress.com/

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.

Ruth Jewell, ©April 12, 2013

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.

Ruth Jewell, ©January 25, 2013

Guns, Fear, and Paranoia

Posted on January 14, 2013January 16, 2013 by a quiet walk

For the last several weeks I have been trying to make sense of the tragedy of Newtown Connecticut and all the rest of the massacres before and since Newtown. I am especially confused by America’s fascination with guns and I must admit I don’t understand. Why do we need to have everyone armed? I keep thinking people who carry handguns, or own automatic or semi-automatic weapons are feeding a deep seated inadequacy and guns allow them to feel powerful. I wouldn’t call such people cowards but they obviously have fear issues that they blow way out of proportion to what the real world offers. And, if someone thinks 6 and 7 year olds are a threat to your life then you really need to see a professional and get counseling.

The NRA tells us that more guns are the solution to our problem of gun violence, and I respectfully question their thinking and sanity. How can more guns on the street prevent gun violence? It didn’t in 1800’s and it won’t now. Wasn’t it Wyatt Earp in Dodge City who banned guns in town and reduced the level of violence that the town was famous for? How does the NRA support such a ridiculous statement?

While I am primarily a vegetarian I accept the fact that some people still hunt for food, especially in Alaska. But, I just don’t see the sport in killing a living animal. In the lower 48 is it really necessary to go out and kill an animal for food these days? Can’t people get the same thrill of “hunting” using a camera to “bring home your trophies? After all you’re in the same outdoor environment and it takes as much, or more, skill to get a good picture than it does to kill an animal.

I am at a loss as to why anyone would own any weapon other than a single shot rifle. Everything else is only good for killing another human being. Unless, of course, you want shredded deer meat you aren’t going to use an automatic rifle to go deer hunting and I can’t imagine what such a weapon would do to bird.

Unless you have to hunt to put food on your table then there is no excuse or reason to own a gun. If you are a collector then all your specimens should be permanently disabled and securely locked up to prevent them from being used at any time.

I am afraid that just like everyone else I don’t have answers other than to say this country needs massive group counseling for paranoia. The world can be a scary place when you don’t know what tomorrow brings. But in my experience tomorrow is never as bad as the “so called experts” say it will be and contrary to all rumors the world will not end if individuals do not own weapons used only for killing people.

Gun violence isn’t about guns, it’s about people, individuals and groups, who see the worst in the future and can’t imagine a world that embraces life rather than death. I have great pity for such people for they live in a world I am totally unfamiliar with. Such people are sick and should be treated as such, with compassion and sympathy and help for their fears that feed their paranoia. So maybe that is my solution – group therapy for people who own guns. I don’t think it would hurt and maybe it would help those who feel a false sense of fear feeding their personal inadequacy, which leads to paranoia, which leads to violence. Maybe, just maybe, there would be fewer massacres such as Newtown, Portland, Colorado, Seattle, Tacoma, there are too many to name. Sick people use guns to kill other people, I get that, but what I don’t get is why we don’t address the root cause and that is, unreasoning fear and paranoia in large numbers of people in this country. We need to address that issue, and then guns won’t matter.

Ruth Jewell, ©January 14, 2013

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.

I Was a Stranger

Posted on December 17, 2012December 22, 2012 by a quiet walk

Matthew 25:35b

. . . I was a stranger and you welcomed me,

Yesterday was a strange day! John and I are vacationing on a Caribbean Cruise and yesterday we visited Barbados. It was supposed to be a quick day of shopping for gifts in the morning and then back to our ship, the MS Maasdam, for a swim and maybe a nap. It’s a hard job but someone has to do it. I hope you noticed I said “supposed to,” what happened was an adventure we never counted on and the discovery of being welcomed despite being a stranger in a strange land.

First of all you should know that John has developed a case of hay fever every time we reach shore; there is some type of plant bugging him so he needed more antihistamines. So we get off the ship and head for the shuttles into the shopping district of Bridgetown. After I paid the driver we got in and headed for town. When we reach our destination John spots a pharmacy and we go in to get some Benadryl for his hay fever. And this when our day went wonky, as we are paying for it I discover I have lost my wallet.

Do you know the sinking feeling you get when something goes terribly wrong and you are placed in very vulnerable position? Well I never got that feeling. I told John my wallet was gone along with my credit card, driver’s license and some money and all I said was “well that’s gone, do you still want to go shopping.” I never expected to see the wallet again, I mean we are in the Caribbean which is not known for having the most honest population in the world, and these people are all poor and struggling. While I would miss the $80, it loss wouldn’t kill me and my credit card would be turned off within the next couple of hours so that wasn’t that big a deal. But to someone who probably makes less in a year than most people in the US make in a month that’s a lot of money and the card invaluable. But for some reason I wasn’t the least bit worried. I was simply a little irritated about the trouble it would take to contact VISA

John suggests we go back to the drop off point and wait for the taxi to return, which the guy would do simply as part of his route between the port and downtown. As we sat under a tree, a man comes forward and asks if we would like to take a tour of the Island and we said “no we were waiting for the taxi that dropped us off.” The man, whose name was Eric, asked us if we had lost a wallet, surprised, we said yes and asked how he knew. Eric said the driver did find it and had looked all over for us but we had disappeared. Eric told us that my wallet would be with the port police when we returned. Eric told us to get into his tour van and he took us straight back to the port to retrieve my wallet and when we got there it was intact; cards and money all in place. To thank the shuttle driver we gave him a large tip and to thank Eric we told him that we would like to take his tour. So we and another couple who were just walking up got in and had the most wonderful morning going all around the Island of Barbados, which is really quite small, I think Eric said it was only about 150 sq miles, 14 miles wide and 17 miles long.

We discovered that the couple, George and Marion, were also from Washington State, Port Ludlow to be exact, and we had a lot in common. Eric told us he had two children, a boy and girl, and that he had lived in Bridgetown all of his life. We saw Orchids at the Orchid Garden which was beautiful. The Orchids were incredible but more than that it was simply a beautiful botanical garden with wonderful views of the farms in the center of the Island. We stopped at Bats Hill beach where we wadded in the water and got silly as we picked up coral rock. We saw a troop of monkeys with young ones trailing along. The little ones apparently knew we had a camera because they immediately started jumping, running and falling over each other in their efforts to show off. Actually they weren’t all that different from some other little ones I know. After nearly 3 hours we returned to the port and our staterooms tired and trying to make sense of our amazing morning adventure. What could have been a disaster turned into a time of welcoming and communion.

So often we expect the worst of people and such self-fulfilling prophecies often come true, we get what we expect. Yesterday I learned a valuable lesson that people everywhere are good, honest and hardworking, offering up kindness unlooked-for, resulting in lives touching each other in amazing ways that wouldn’t have happened any other way.

In our interpretation of Mathew 25:35 we most often think of ourselves as being the ones doing the welcoming, or the delivering of kindness. We most often forget that receiving the welcome and generosity of another is a grace filled gift that opens our hearts as much as being the donor. Yesterday I was the stranger in need and I was blessed with the gift of welcome and the company of new friends.

I am not one who believes in coincidence but I do believe accidents are used by the Holy Spirit to touch people with grace and forgiveness in ways that could not happen any other way. I accidentally dropped my wallet in a cab and as a result the lives of 5 people crossed and touched each other for reasons only the Holy Spirit knows. The result for us was an adventure and lives briefly touching and gracing each other with friendship and charity.

Yesterday I was the stranger and the recipient; maybe tomorrow I will be the donor of the grace of welcome either way both offer grace, blessings and life to the recipients and receiver. May all of you be blessed with the receiving or offering of the gift of welcome.

Family

Posted on December 6, 2012December 6, 2012 by a quiet walk

A Story of Three Women

Three Women drink tea in the morning
Each on their own Terraces
Secure within their walls
They offer the daily morning wave

The Elder, the Middle, the Younger
Careful not to offend
They talk each day
Across a Chasm filled with white still Fog

One day things changed
A breeze stirred the Fog
A path was revealed leading
Into a place of uncertainty

The women looked down, pointing
Each looked at the other and
Moved to the path
Down into the swirling Fog

Lost … calling … WHERE ARE YOU?
Questions of the journey
ARE YOU THERE?
Is it right for us to meet?

The Fog lightens revealing
A space with light and three chairs
The women emerge
The Elder, The Middle, The Younger

Now what do we do?
I don’t know your name
Hannah … Mary … Mary
Smiles, the stories begin

Discovery, sisters all
Lost in time
Grown apart
Yet family still

I know your story!
I know your son!
I know your grandfather!
Family still

High on a hill
Three empty terraces sit
The sun still shines there
The tea still served, waiting

Three Women
The Elder, Hannah
The Middle, Mary
The younger, Mary

Walk hand in hand
Back into the Fog
Back into the uncertainty
Back to ask more questions

Advent has begun, it is the time of expectations. This is a time when small children excitedly wait for that magical moment on Christmas morning when they discover the gifts left by Santa Clause. Yet there is more to Advent than shopping trips to the mall or preparing a big family dinner. I wrote the above poem at the close of a class that went through the scriptural history of our Judeo, Christian and Islamic traditions and as a result discovered just how much alike we three sibling religious traditions are. I think it is because we share so much history that we continue to fight over details just as any family of brothers and sisters do.

Did you know that Hannah’s story is much like the story of the birth of Mary as told in the Infancy Gospel of James written in the 2nd century? Did you also know that The Qur’an also retells the birth of Mary with a story very close to what is said in James’ Infancy Gospel? Hannah, Mary from the Christian tradition and Mary from the Islamic tradition are sisters, or maybe mothers and daughters, of our shared faith. Mary is the most honored woman in The Qur’an, even more so than in our own Christian traditions.

We three faiths are related as People of the Book, of the Bible. Our shared history is more than simply battles fought to get the attention of the Creator, we are family. The scriptural blood that flows through my spiritual veins and pushed around by my spiritual heart is the same blood and same heart as my Judaic and Islamic brothers and sisters. Christians are the middle spiritual child and our older spiritual brothers and sisters have much to teach us about God’s commitment to all of creation, just as we have much to teach our younger spiritual brothers and sisters about the love and compassion of God.

My heart aches because each of us spiritual children seems to only want to compete with the others. So every Advent I offer prayers that we three family members will sit down and share a cup of tea and take the time to offer apologies and forgiveness. Because we three siblings have much to teach and offer the whole world, not as the only right paths to God but rather as models of cooperation in showing all paths lead to God no matter what path we take. All paths are sacred.

I have a pot of tea brewing and a plate of shortbread cookies. So I invite you to a time of tea in the fog uncertainty. Let’s begin a conversation that could just change the world.

Ramblings on a Rainy After Thanksgiving Day

Posted on November 23, 2012 by a quiet walk

It is the small things in life that delight me the most. This morning we took one of our pumpkin pies to a friend and then went to Third Place Books to sell some old books and maybe pick up a new one. The rain was coming down hard and it was so dreary, yet, I had, have, this amazing sense of delight in just being here in this world, at this moment in time. I want to feel guilty because I don’t have anything really pressing me right now, but, I don’t. I enjoyed sharing a cup of tea with John as we each ate a cookie while waiting to find out how many books the store would buy. It was so much fun just sitting across from him and laughing at something he said. I can’t remember how long it has been since I’ve done that. I took particular delight in discovering that the store credit the books bought me was enough to buy a brand new one for 92 cents. And, it wasn’t a book I had to read for a class either, YEAH.

My life in the last number of years has been filled with tasks to do either at home, for family, for Church, or for school and I have often felt overwhelmed. Suddenly I have time to be just here and I am feeling quite blessed and graced by the Divines permission to be silly if I want to be. I have taken this space to just be me; to wait on and listen for some WORD from the Holy Spirit as to what direction my life will take now. I know at some point I will grow weary with this much time for myself and I will become anxious for G-d to speak to me. But, I am not ready yet, I am having way too much fun waking up each morning and telling John “I don’t know what my day will be like, but it will unfold before me and I will be amazed.”

Today is the day after Thanksgiving and John is in the living room watching 2 football games at a time (I’m not sure how he keeps them straight) and I have just finished a Dune novel. The rain continues but I feel the Sun behind the soggy clouds and know that my day is really filled with light. I have begun packing for my graduation gift trip in December and I am filled with joy at the thought of spending time alone with John. I am in a sunny bubble even with all the clouds.

The last time I felt this way was just before my wedding in 2000. I felt then that I was particularly blessed by the Spirit because I couldn’t stop smiling or laughing. I kept giving things away just because I wanted everyone to share in my good fortune and happiness. As I prepared for that big day I felt filled by Spirit and light and that is how I feel right now. Kind of giddy, and silly, and confused in a happy way, and … well you get the idea.

It is not as if I don’t have things to do, because I do. I am writing a proposal for an advisor concerning my future ministry, I’ve begun writing my thoughts for my ordination paper and I am discovering some things I would like to do the first of the year at church. But right now I am free. Like a butterfly in a garden I can flit from flower to flower, or just sit and admire the view. Yes, responsibilities will return but right now I am happy, and free of worry. Those other things will take care of themselves for a little while more or at least until I hear that WORD from G-d who says “Now go forth.” I can wait.