WHY NOT PLAY?

You will go out in joy and be led forth in peace; the mountains and hills will burst into song before you, and all the trees of the field will clap their hands. – Isaiah 55:12 NIV

Sometimes life gets too serious, doesn’t it? It has especially become so this past ten months for me since I’ve had so many health issues with various cancers in various places. It is exhausting to keep up with all of it. See doctors, eat something (anything), sleep or try to sleep. Not much fun going on which brings me to the point of this writing – PLAY.

On my Facebook page memories, I ran across an old FRIDAY MEDITATION I had written two or three years ago with the title “Play Dates”. Why did this show up today? Maybe because Play is one of my spiritual disciplines. It is good for my spiritual wellbeing. When did I forget to play? I don’t remember to tell the truth.

Oxford Dictionaries defines play as “to engage in activity for enjoyment and recreation rather than a serious or practical purpose, take part in (a sport).” In this case play is a verb. It is something we do. Play is supposed to be fun. Often it is creative.

Wikipedia defines fun as “the enjoyment of pleasure, particularly in leisure activities. Fun is an experience — often unexpected, informal, and/or purposeless. It is an enjoyable distraction, diverting the mind and body from any serious task or contributing an extra dimension to it. … It may often have little to no logical basis, and opinions on whether an activity is fun may differ. A distinction between enjoyment and fun is difficult but possible to articulate, fun being a more spontaneous, playful, or active event. There are psychological and physiological implications to the experience of fun.” Fun, in this case is a noun – something you have.

What makes play a spiritual activity? For one, Play is creative, usually. It releases stress from the body and it makes us more into the image of God. Madeleine L’Engle writes, “I believe that God had fun in the act of Creation – hydrogen clouds and galaxies and solar systems and planets capable of sustaining life, and fish and birds and beasts and us human creatures. And then God rested.” Also, necessary for our souls and bodies. Can you not imagine God creating? When he decided light was needed, he spoke it into being, and it was. I also imagine that he flung the sun and moon into the heavens. Also, the galaxies and stars. When he sees them, he laughs and claps his hands in joy as he shouts out “Good!” I imagine that it was fun for him to create the animals, deciding how they would look, making male and female so that they could create more like themselves. And then humans. How he laughs as he proclaims, “Very Good! I love them.” Can’t you imagine the Trinity doing a Jewish type circle dance in delight at the end of the day?

Dr. Stuart Brown – psychiatrist, clinical researcher, and founder of the National Institute for Play explains that play is as essential to our health and functioning as rest….and argues that play is not an option. In fact, he writes, “The opposite of play is not work – the opposite of play is depression.”

So why aren’t we playing? Why am I not? I have gotten so bogged down in my own health issues that I almost forgot how to play. I made a list of play activities that I did as a child and it was pretty long. I can vividly picture many of them because they were so important to me.

I was born at the beginning of America’s involvement in WWII and we lived on a small farm with my grandmother for a few years. We had a few toys, but what I remember was playing by myself, much of the time, under the old cottonwood trees in the dirt making mud pies. I also made roads in the dust and used small rocks for cars and sticks for houses. I took walks with my dog and dangled my feet in a small stream and made little boats out of leaves and ran them down the water furrows in the garden. I never felt alone. There was always a presence with me. I know now that it was God.

After I started school, a friend and I would play school. Sometimes, I was the teacher and at others the student. I would make up plays at school and our teacher would let me direct them with the other students being the cast. The plays were mostly spontaneous, and we would practice during rainy recess times when we couldn’t go outside.

Once, I made a little hut behind my father’s recliner using a blanket for a roof. In it I acted out a story from a book that my grandmother had given me. It was about a young girl named Ann who lived in Bethany. Ann was at the well when Mary, Joseph, and Jesus were on their flight to Egypt and stopped for a drink and rest. Ann got to hold Jesus as Mary refreshed herself. I would be Ann in my play and would hold my doll who was Jesus. I could go on. I imagine you could too if you sit down and let your mind wander back.

Growing flowers was play for me as I got older. I don’t have much space for that now, but I do have some and hope I have the energy to get out and dig around a bit this spring and summer. I feel very close to God in the garden. I love taking photos. My favorite was wandering around, often in my bathrobe in the morning with bare feet in the wet grass, to look and see what was growing there so I could snap a picture of it.

One of my favorite play experiences took place three or four years ago. I was in the bedroom making the bed. A little squirrel was sitting on the outside window ledge looking at me. The glass was in between us, but I went over and started talking to it. While I was talking the squirrel just watched me. When I quit talking, her little mouth would move as if she were talking to me. She was you know. When she stopped talking, I would talk and so on. This went one for several minutes and was one of the most delightful experiences I have had. It brings me joy just recalling it.

There are many other stories here that I could tell as well, both spontaneous activities and those that were planned. I need to remember to play. I need to remember to recognize it. I know this is good for my spirit and gives me joy. Maybe what I need to do is get a little book to write down my play experiences. It could be part of my examine prayer in the evening. Maybe it would remind me to play.

When was the last time you really played? It’s good for our souls to do so. I even have my own recliner.

Blessings, Donna

Go Home

Sometimes, I just have writer’s block, maybe especially when I don’t feel very well or when I’m trying to adjust to new situations. Currently, both are somewhat at play. So, after trying a couple of times to finish an article I had started, I just had to quit trying and move on. I thought about giving up writing but that didn’t seem quite right, and anyway, I like to keep in touch with you. So, once again, I went archive diving. Though not even close to what I had planned to write, this one from my “A FRIDAY MEDITATION” writing (15 JAN 2015) caught my eye. I’ll go with that.

“Go Home
Then He went Home. ~ Mark 3:19

The verse above is a fragment from the readings this past Monday from Mark 3:7-19. It is not an unusual story in the life of Jesus. He was busy wandering around with his disciples healing many diseases of the crowds that pressed around him. Unclean spirits were shouting out proclaiming him as the Son of God, and he ordered them to stop. Nothing unusual. Next, Jesus takes some of the disciples with him up the mountain and appoints twelve of them to be with him, to be sent out to proclaim the good news, and to cast out demons. He called them Apostles. Nothing unusual here, either. “Then he went home” the scripture says. The words practically jumped off the page. I need to ponder why they have.

The flu or a bad cold caught up with me this week. I usually am pretty immune to these, but not this time. I didn’t run fast enough, or I ran too fast. Probably the latter. But now, I have pondering time. Who knew a pilgrimage was involved with these four words?
After the conference I attended a couple of weeks ago, I began re-reading Paula D’Arcy’s book – GIFT OF THE RED BIRD. This book speaks to me. Paula tells of her recovery from the death of her husband and infant daughter in a car accident. She was pregnant with another child at the time and both Paula and the unborn child survived. After she was somewhat emotionally and spiritually healed, she was asked to hold conferences, retreats, etc., to share her story with others. She had a frantic schedule, but she continued until she finally came down with mono with which she was sick for eight or nine months. She had time to think about who she was created to be and what she was doing. Not all of her doing bubbled up from her deepest self in God but was what she thought she needed to do because she had been asked and the opportunity was there.

I don’t know why those four words from the Bible passage above had such an impact on me. Other translations don’t say the same. Some translations say that Jesus went into a house in his hometown. Those words really segue into another story, but they brought me up short and I have learned to pay attention to that. Maybe, coming home helps us to return, somehow, to our roots and to ourselves so we can remember who we really are. Jesus, in the story above, goes home when he finishes the day’s work. Maybe this returning, along with constant prayer, helps ground him in some way. Maybe it helps him remember who he is. Returning home in prayer grounds us. It is from this rest and time spent with God that we know what we are called to do. Going home appears to be more than a place to hang your hat and sleep.

I need to pay better attention, and I did get the picture. I have changed a thing or two and am in the process of re-evaluating some others. I could be out of touch with me – who am I now? Who is the person God created me to be for a time such as this? There are many opportunities to serve God, many opportunities to be Jesus’s hands and feet, and not all of them, by any means, have my name attached to them. Which ones do? Which ones bring me home? A friend called, today, to read a meditation to me from a couple of days ago. She worries about me. It said basically what I was hearing already. Pay Attention. Slow down. Rest. Find your deepest self.
Richard Foster says that coming to prayer is like coming home. “Nothing feels more right, more like what we are created to be and to do.” ~ PRAYER, Finding the Hearts true home.

I agree.”

Blessings,
Donna

 

Why Does God….

Every other year or so, I repost this article that I wrote six years ago. We keep asking the same questions so they get high on my list from time to time. It’s been a crazy uncertain year so I think I need a review. Maybe you can use one, too, so here goes.

“As I meditate in preparation for writing, the world turns much as before. We continue to have mass shootings, bombings, wars and rumors of wars, floods and famine, [earthquakes] violence and hatred. We have personal issues as well. Some major stories make the news, many do not, and our personal woes, usually not at all. But it does cause us to ask, “Why? Why does God let bad things happen? Why all this pain and heartbreak? Why doesn’t God intervene?” I have made peace with most of these questions but they still come around. I am not a heavy-duty theologian so I don’t take these answers as gospel, but they help me get through and live with the questions. Maybe they will help you, too.

“It has been said that everything happens for a reason. Usually, people mean that God, or the universe or fate, has caused or allowed this horrible and difficult situation. For some undisclosed reason, they say, it must have needed to happen, therefore, it must be part of God’s plan. This leads to Question 1: “Why does a loving God do these things? Answer: He doesn’t!! God does not create evil and suffering. Never. Not ever! Never!!

“Question 2: ‘Why, then, didn’t God create the world without suffering?’ Answer: He did!! Scripture tells us that God created Eden for us—a place in which there is no evil, suffering or pain, but a world filled with love and relationship with God and each other. This was, and still is, God’s Plan.

“Questions 3: ‘If God is not the author of these tragedies, WHY do we have them? Is it the devil?’ Answer: Not necessarily. Since God wanted a relationship of love with us, He did something unusual. He gave us Free Will in order to give us the ability to love. Love always involves a choice. Those of us who have been married a long time understand this. We understand that love isn’t just a warm fuzzy feeling or an overwhelming passion, though sometimes it is, nor does the fact that we say, “I love you,” make it so. We know that love is the day by day hanging in and hanging out with each other in the good times and the bad, talking and sharing together, working together, taking care of each other, and by helping to make each other’s dreams come true. God wants that relationship with us. Love is an action and requires our choice.

“Question 4: ‘But God allows it, doesn’t he?’ Answer: In a way, yes. God will not interfere with our free will. As we read the Genesis story, we find that Adam and Eve, like most three year olds, decided that they wanted to do things themselves. They chose not to be part of God’s plan because loving obedience was getting in the way of what they wanted. By their choice they rejected and changed God’s perfect plan. After this, God told Adam and Eve that their rebellious choice had damaged the very DNA of paradise so that even the very earth was affected. [This still happens with us today.]

“Question 5: ‘So, why doesn’t God fix it if he wants the world to be like Eden?’ Answer: HE IS! Jesus came to save us from evil, sin and suffering and to show us how to make choices for Eden. Once I complained to God about the way things were and asked him why he didn’t fix it. After quoting several of the “Where were you when I…” verses from Job, he plainly asked, ‘Why don’t you? The answers to that took me on a journey of discovery.

“Question 6: ‘How can we, as apprentices of Jesus, choose to be part of the Eden Plan?’ Answer: We already know. We know that we need to show up in the Garden to be with God for fellowship. We know that we need to choose to be loving, forgiving and healing people—to care for the widow, the orphan and the poor. We know that we need to take care of the earth. We know that we need to be transformed into the likeness of Jesus by choosing to continue our spiritual practices while living in community—practices of Eucharist, of prayer, paying attention, etc., hanging in and hanging out with Jesus in good times and bad, spending time listening to his hopes and dreams, sharing ours, by loving our neighbor as ourselves, being and making apprentices of Jesus and by helping to make God’s dreams come true.

“There are many stories of loving acts of mercy and heroism after major tragedy. Some say that love is the answer to this brokenness and that we must fight evil and darkness with love and light. True, if we remember that the LOVE and LIGHT we seek to share is Jesus. Pondering Question: ‘What would happen if we chose to love every day with the power of the Spirit as Jesus showed us?’ Answer: We would begin to bring the Kingdom of God to the places where we are and begin healing the broken DNA of God’s plan.

[We would, as we promised at our baptism, continue in the Apostles’ teaching and fellowship, in the breaking of bread and in the prayers. We would persevere in resisting evil, and whenever we fall into sin, repent and return to the Lord. We would proclaim by word and example the Good News of God in Christ. We would seek and serve Christ in all persons, loving our neighbors as ourselves. And we would strive for justice and peace among all people, and respect the dignity of every human being. We will do this with God’s help.]

“We would bless, forgive, heal, and take care of the poor, the suffering and each other. We would use our free will to make these choices and then follow through. We would become a light on the hill and a house of prayer for all people as God desires, and we would invite others to join in.

“Until God’s plan is restored, we will pray, work and give for the spread of the Kingdom and remember that Romans 8:28 tells us that God will work good from what has been meant for evil if we hang tight and trust the ONE who calls us.” ~ Soul Food, Sept. 2012 (revised)

 

A Mighty Wind

(Part 4)

“While staying with them, he [Jesus] ordered them not to leave Jerusalem, but to wait there for the promise of the Father. “This,” he said, “is what you have heard from me; for John baptized with water, but you will be baptized with the Holy Spirit not many days from now.” ~ Acts 1:4-5

“When the day of Pentecost came, they were all together in one place. Suddenly a sound like the blowing of a violent wind came from heaven and filled the whole house where they were sitting. They saw what seemed to be tongues of fire that separated and came to rest on each of them.” ~ Acts 2:1-3

It is amazing what I remember as I try to complete the writing on the Holy Spirit that God assigned. There is so much that I don’t have room to tell. However, this may be the start of a pretty good outline in case I ever do write that book.
Last month, I neglected to tell you that when I was confirmed, it was under a tornado warning. Planes were grounded and the Bishop had to drive down from Atlanta, so my fear made perfect sense when my mother-in-law said that when the Holy Spirit gets hold of a person, it is like a tornado has slammed into them.
Did God cause all the darkness that I had in my life? Of course not. The darkness was already there. God only called my attention to it so that I would begin to heal. I have said that my idea of God was skewed and I needed that to change so I could grow closer to him. God, however, was with me and provided help, ways out, and things to learn for my spiritual growth that I might not have been able to receive otherwise. Even in the pit, God is always with us and God is always good. What God does with our mess is always good, too, but it took me some time before I really believed that.
First, I had to know that God really cared about me. One day I noticed that Step Three of the Twelve Steps reads, “Made a decision to turn our will and our lives over to the care of God as we understood Him.” My understanding of God had begun to change, but I was not sure that I was ready for what God’s will might be. I might have to go to Africa. But, this Step said I was to turn my life over to the CARE OF GOD, not Will of God. Care of God, I could do. Because of the miracle of our daughter’s healing, I learned that God heard my prayers and cared for me.
After a renewal weekend at St. Stephen’s, we became involved in a small group at church where we studied, prayed together, and took care of each other. Things moved along and I got closer to God. I sang in the choir and community was very important to me. I couldn’t imagine life without it. However, one day I came home from church, and thought, “There must be more to it than this.” Strange thought. Hmm. I know now that it was God calling.
Some people at church began to talk about the Baptism in the Holy Spirit. Some talked about speaking in tongues and laying on of hands for healing. I already knew that God healed but Holy Spirit baptism and tongues, um, no. We had grown up being taught that the Holy Spirit was only active until the Bible was finished and was not for today. We were taught that speaking in tongues was from the Evil One. I don’t know where that idea came from. But I began to watch these people. They had something I wanted, so eventually, I decided that I would have hands laid on me for this Spirit baptism. I had all kinds of expectations about what physical manifestations might occur when the Spirit came. There were stories. I was a bit nervous but I wanted what others had and what God wanted to give me.
What happened when hands were laid on me for this Baptism? I didn’t think anything had. I didn’t feel differently. I did notice that I couldn’t get enough of reading the Bible and my usual fiction reading gave way to reading books about God and the Holy Spirit, about Gifts of the spirit and of healing. I was very interested in the spiritual gifts that the Spirit was to give, especially healing – because of the miracle. I wondered what my gifts might be.
We were in the process of building a new church and parishioners put in a great deal of sweat equity. One night, my husband and I, along with our Priest, his wife and a few more, stayed late to work. After, we had gone to dinner. While we stood at the counter to pay our bill, our Priest started to collapse. We got a chair for him to sit in and called an ambulance. A strong thought (God?) came to me, “You need to lay hands on him and pray for healing.” WHAT? Me? “If you don’t he will die.” I couldn’t take that chance, so scared, timid, not very sure of myself-very new to Holy Spirit stuff, little me-walked over and very unobtrusively, laid my hand on his shoulder and whispered a healing prayer. By the time the ambulance came he was fine but they took him to the hospital for a check. As his wife left, she turned to me and said, “Did you see that one whole side of his faced sagged for a bit? I hadn’t. It took me a few weeks to “fess up” to what I did.
Well, what about tongues? What happened? I am going to write about the gifts of the Spirit next month so stay tuned. I have a few more stories, too. After all, that’s what the Holy Spirit directed me to do. “Tell (my) story.” But for now…
We receive the Holy Spirit at Baptism – “Sustain them, O Lord, in your Holy Spirit. Give them an inquiring and discerning heart, …” p.307, Book of Common Prayer. This is renewed at Confirmation – “Strengthen, O Lord, your servant N. with your Holy Spirit; empower him for your service; and sustain him all the days of his life. Amen” p.309, BCP.
The Baptism of the Holy Spirit happens when we ask for it, give our consent for God to use us as he chooses, with the power for ministry that the Spirit gives us. This may happen at our confirmation. We already have, with our baptism, all of the Holy Spirit. How much of us does the Holy Spirit have? That is the real question.

Wait. “.…you will receive power when the Holy Spirit comes on you; and you will be my witnesses in Jerusalem, and in all Judea and Samaria, and to the ends of the earth.” – Acts 1:8

40 DAYS

 

(Part Three)

“City lights shine on the harbour, Night has fallen down,
Through the darkness and the shadow, I will still go on.
Long, long journey through the darkness,
Long, long way to go;
But what are miles across the ocean
To the heart that’s coming home?”
~ Eithne Ni Bhraonain / Nicky Ryan / Roma Ryan

“It is not objective proof of God’s existence that we want but…the experience of God’s presence.” ~ Frederick Buechner

I finished April Soul Food with these words, “My baptism, I believe, is when the Holy Spirit stopped hovering and started seriously meddling in my life. Did I not somehow say he could…?”

A person might think that with the experiences I shared, previously, that everything would be great for a little while, But, no! After my baptism, the Spirit drove me straight into the wilderness right into the middle of the mess of my own darkness.

A lightbulb turned on over my head as I began to make notes for writing this month. I remembered that Jesus was driven by the Spirit into the wilderness right after his Baptism. What might this mean for me? Some pondering required. Jesus was 40 days in the wilderness. The Israelites were 40 years wandering in the desert? If the number 40 does mean a long time, and if that long time was for formation and even transformation, then, I can begin to understand my own wilderness darkness in a new light.

Jesus was taken to the desert to confront temptations and to prepare for ministry. If that was what my wilderness experience was about, what did I confront? What were Jesus’ temptations? With what did he wrestle? Henri Nouwen said that, in the desert “he [Jesus] was tempted with the three compulsions of the world: to be relevant (“turn stones into loaves”), to be spectacular (“throw yourself down”)” and to be powerful (“I will give you all these kingdoms”). There he affirmed God as the only source of his identity (“You must worship the Lord your God and serve him alone”). In the desert, Jesus gave up control of himself, and his possible desires, to the will and plan of his Father. Hmm…

Almost as soon as we left Boulder, arrived at Ft. Benning and found a place to live, Dave had a temporary duty assignment in Oklahoma for three months for officer’s training. I was not able to go with him because I was five months pregnant with our fifth child. Since I would be due to deliver about the time Dave would be coming back to Georgia, and because there was always the question of whether I would get to the hospital in time, the doctors would not let me travel.

So, I was plopped down, alone, with four and 5/9ths children, knowing no one, having no friends, no support group, and no help. I didn’t know the way around town. I had never been alone like this before nor had I ever had this much responsibility. I was scared. The church was a long way across the city, but I did manage to get there, occasionally. The weather that summer in Georgia was terrible and I started to be afraid of storms and wind – something in Colorado that I rather liked. I also became terrified of tornadoes. Too much Wizard of Oz when I was a child, perhaps.

After three months, Dave came home, we moved onto the base, and I delivered child #5, a daughter. Dave was gone, constantly training soldiers to go to Viet Nam. Again, I had the home and child responsibility to myself. I developed a pretty severe case of post-partum depression, though I didn’t know that was my problem. I had never heard of it. My fear of storms intensified, and I began to have panic attacks. These didn’t go away for years, even after Dave got out of the military and we returned to Colorado.

Oh, there is another very important piece to this story. Dave left the army to finish his degree after which he planned to go to seminary and become ordained. Panic!! I knew that I wasn’t good enough to become a priest’s wife, and I didn’t want to live in a goldfish bowl, so I talked him out of it – for a season. God had other plans. But, I had another reason for God to be angry with me.

Dave and the kids started to go to church without me. I couldn’t leave the basement. I was afraid of God. Weird, huh? After my earlier experience of God, this doesn’t make sense. I knew God was chasing me, but I believed it was because I had done something wrong and not because of love. I still had the belief that God was a punishing God. Alcohol became my drug of choice. It was the only way I knew to keep the fear somewhat at bay, and I began to live in the basement watching out the windows to see if there was a tree leaf or a blade of grass moving. I tried to keep control – of my surroundings, my circumstances, my children, and myself. If bad things happened, it would be my fault. Storms and tornadoes might take me away from my family, hurt them, or damage our home. I wouldn’t be able to take care of them or anything else – a self-fulfilling prophecy as it turned out.

I was very depressed, so I eventually began therapy and began to understand myself, somewhat. The doctor diagnosed a stress induced chemical imbalance and we started working on that. After about five years, God dangled music in front of me and that got me out of the basement. Dave joined the choir and I thought, “Choir!” Maybe I can do that. God does have his ways and some major healing began. St. Stephen’s had a mid-week communion service which I attended in addition to the one on Sunday. I discovered that if I had communion twice a week I could stay above ground. If I didn’t, I couldn’t. My panic and depression began to recede, and I started to believe that God loved me.

It was a soul friend, last week, who reminded me that Jesus, in the desert, was faced with giving up control of himself to God. I’ve had to give up control issues, too, although they do rear their ugly head from time to time. I also had to get rid of the punishing God of childhood.

Um…aren’t I supposed to be writing my story about the Holy Spirit? Yes, I am. This is the long chapter.

Years later, my mother-in-law (who did not believe that the Holy Spirit was active in the world anymore – or so I thought) said to me, “Isn’t it funny that when the Holy Spirit gets hold of a person, it is like they have been slammed by a tornado?” Bingo!

This is the air I breathe. This is the air I breathe.
Your holy presence living in me.
This is my daily bread. This is my daily bread.
Your very Word spoken to me
And I, I’m desperate for you. And I, I’m lost without you.
This is the air I breathe. ~ Hillsong

Out of the Depths, I Cried…

Holy Spirit (Part 2)

With my voice I cry to the LORD; with my voice I make supplication to the LORD. I pour out my complaint before him; I tell my trouble before him. When my spirit is faint, you know my way. ~ Psalm 142:1-3

“And see, I am sending upon you what my Father promised…” –  Luke 24-49

This IS a tough assignment. I’m a little nervous now that I know God uses autocorrect.  No telling what he will say.  Maybe I wasn’t listening very well.  In case you don’t remember or didn’t read last month’s SOUL FOOD, with a little help from said Autocorrect, God asked me to tell my story with the Holy Spirit.  Since the Spirit was active in my life before I ever knew the Spirit existed, it’s a long story so I’m writing it in installments.

When I left off last month, we were living in El Paso, Texas where Dave was stationed.  We had three small boys by then, and had decided that we wanted them to learn about Jesus in church and that we needed to take them. We returned to the church of our childhoods even though, we were beginning to believe that God was not the waiting-until-you-sin-so he-can-punish-you God. Toward the end of our time in Texas, Dave had the opportunity to have a family accompanied tour in Italy for four years.  At the same time, he found that there was an opportunity for the Army to send him on a two-year assignment to CU Boulder to finish the degree he had started before we got married.  For some, then unknown, reason, I felt strongly that the Colorado University thing was going to happen so Dave turned down the Italy tour before he knew if he might be offered the school option.  We couldn’t wait to see.

Boulder was enjoyable.  We lived in campus housing and there were many little children around for our boys.  We learned what community meant here.  Although there was much community in the military, it wasn’t what we would come to know in our university experience. Half way through this two-year assignment, we had a daughter. You have heard this before, but it belongs in my story now because it was a turning point.

When Kim was born, she was tiny but perfect.  However, before we got out of the hospital, she started having jaundice. She had two blood transfusions and needed to be monitored. My hospital stay was over, but I had to leave Kim there. That evening she began to have blood in her stool and they couldn’t find the cause.  The bleeding was getting worse.  Doctors decided that she needed to go to the military hospital, Fitzsimons, in Denver, so they took her by ambulance in the middle of the night. This was a few days after the big flood in 1965 and many roads were impassible. My doctor wouldn’t let me make the trip and anyway, I had three small boys at home.  I spent my night in prayer (You could call it that.)  I, alternately, begged God to heal Kim, but I didn’t believe God did that, anymore, and I begged him not to let her die.  Sometimes, I yelled at him.  It was a very long night.

Dave managed to get home that next morning – parents weren’t allowed to stay with children at the military hospital – and he informed me that they would do exploratory surgery at Noon if there was no improvement.  This was Sunday, so Dave called the pastor to tell him that we were going to stay home by the phone and asked them to pray.  For what, I wonder. Anyway, the members of the church stopped in the middle of the service and prayed for Kim, our little 5-pound daughter.  They didn’t believe that God healed, either. Then.  I imagine they prayed for the doctors and such.  At the very moment of that prayer, the bleeding stopped.  Maybe Kim managed to touch the hem of Jesus’ garment.  The bleeding did not just slow down, it stopped. Instantly.  The tough military doctor called it a miracle.  We did, too. And the people from the church as well.

I learned something about God that day. He does heal today.  He hears my prayers and answers them.  And I learned that he cared for me.  Luke 7 tells stories of Jesus healing and raising the dead causing crowds to follow him everywhere.  John’s (the Baptist) disciples came to ask Jesus, on John’s behalf, if he was the one for whom they were waiting.  Jesus told them to go tell John what they saw – the healings, the raising from the dead, etc. Then he says to the crowd, v. 24, “What did you go out into the wilderness to see? A reed swayed by the wind? (…)” I read a meditation where the writer wonders what drew the crowd to follow Jesus around. The writer said that, most probable, it was the healings.  Perhaps so.  It worked for me.

A year later, Dave was to return to active duty. I was talking to a neighbor about church and how I wish there was one who believed that God worked in the world today.  I wanted a God that I could touch, a God who heard my prayers of desperation, a God who responded as I had experienced. She said, “I think you might like my church – St. Aidan’s Episcopal Church, Boulder.”  Dave took classes in the engineering building across the street from St. Aidan’s, so he went to their chapel and picked up The Book of Common Prayer (1928).  He read: “Ye who do truly and earnestly repent you of your sins, and are in love and charity with your neighbours, and intend to lead a new life, following the commandments of God, and walking from henceforth in his holy ways; Draw near with faith, and take this holy Sacrament to your comfort; and make your humble confession to Almighty God, devoutly kneeling.”

Then after the Confession, he read: “Almighty God, our heavenly Father, who of his great mercy hath promised forgiveness of sins to all those with hearty repentance and true faith turn unto him; Have mercy upon you; pardon and deliver you from all your sins; confirm and strengthen you in all goodness; and bring you to everlasting life; through Jesus Christ our Lord.  Amen.”

 Dave said, “I think we have found what we have been looking for.”  At last!  As Frederick Buechner says, “It is not objective proof of God’s existence that we want but…the experience of God’s presence.” Yes! A God I could touch who touches me.  Before we left for Ft. Benning, Georgia, we were baptized at St. Aidan’s. My baptism, I believe, is when the Holy Spirit stopped hovering and started seriously meddling in my life.  Did I not somehow say he could…? And there’s more.

“But wait…”

I’ll Risk It

 

 

 

“Are you tired? Emotionally tired, physically tired, brain tired, dog tired, bone tired, or just done in?  Tired of your work, tired of arguing, tired of being sick and tired? Have you had a bad day or night? [perhaps weeks?] Well….” ~ Fr. Nigel Mumford+     

I don’t want to write about anything, today.  I am tired.  Tired of how the world is.  Tired of political stuff. Afraid.  Disappointed. Feeling rejected. Hurt. Discouraged. Sad.  Mind won’t be still.  None of this is anything I want to write about. I don’t know how to put words to it.  I don’t even want to talk about it. Where is this coming from? The world could be taking a tumble toward the dark side?  So much hate and bitterness.  It effects my spirit.  Where is God in all of this?  Where are you God? What are you doing now?  Okay, then. So, what do I do when I am in such turmoil?  What do you do?  Fr. Nigel’s continuing quote above causes me to pause. “Well, stop now and come into His presence.” Where is your presence right now, Lord?

A story from the Bible comes to mind.  The disciples were looking for Jesus.  John 6:25ff – “When they found him on the other side of the lake, they asked him, “Rabbi, when did you get here…? Emphasis on ‘here’, I think. Then they asked him, “What must we do to do the works God requires?”  Jesus answered, “The work of God is this: to believe in the one He has sent.” The work of God that we are to do is to “believe in” or “have faith” in Jesus. 

Don’t we often think that faith is an intellectual exercise and that we somehow must get this knowledge from our head to our heart, which I find difficult most of the time, for it to work? I was never good at manufacturing enough faith to make much difference in my life.  I had too many fears, too many doubts and too much guilt about things done and left undone to make the knowledge about who Jesus is stay in my heart.  I didn’t yet know that faith is a relationship not what I knew or could get myself to believe. How many times have you heard it said, or said yourself, “If only I had more faith?” Or, “Just have more faith.”  Some believe that if we have no doubts at all when we ask God to do something, he will do what we ask and that is what is meant by having faith.  We try to pump up our belief so that we can get God to do what we want.  We want him to fix it. Fix our current mess. But that’s not faith.  That’s control.  I can control God if I have enough faith, and if I can control God, I won’t be afraid—everything will work out according to MY plan.

The Greek word that is usually translated as “faith” or “believe” is the word “trust”.  The works of God are to trust Jesus. Simple trust is enough.  Faith—belief—trust, is our response to a loving God’s grace.  That, I think, is what Jesus meant when He said, “Your faith will make you whole.”  Faith is the key to unlocking the transforming power of God in our lives.  There was a course, that Episcopal Renewal Ministries had many years ago, for training healing ministers.  I don’t remember the name of it now, but there was a little book that had a definition that I liked which was, “Faith is seen as an ultimate trust in a loving God expressed in the way we live out our Christian life.”  Faith is not a possession we own or a skill we learn but a decision to trust in God who loves us and continually comes to us. 

In 1885, there was a Methodist evangelist by the name of Sam Jones.  He preached a sermon seeking to help those who were continually praying for more faith.  He encouraged people to begin to act on the faith they already had.  In that same sermon, he said that faith is spelled, RISK.  I like that because often when we are learning to trust someone even, or maybe especially, God, it seems risky. We want to ask for a sign that will help us trust—well I did, anyway.  I received signs, too, from time to time.  I have written about some of them.  The very first one was when God healed our newborn daughter.  I didn’t have faith that God would heal her—it required a miracle.  I didn’t believe those happened any more, nor did the church family of which we were a part.  They did trust that God could help the doctors, though, so they risked asking.  They prayed for her healing and received a miracle. 

My relationship with God has continued to grow since then, and there have been many signs and wonders.  I still expect them, but my trust in God does not depend on them.  My favorite scripture verse continues to be Romans 8:28. “We know that God makes all things work together for the good of those who love God and are called according to his purpose.

I’ve had practice in trusting God; of risking that what He has said is true.  God has given me enough evidence that I really don’t need to be in the place I find myself today.  So, why am I here? Because I’m human and I get myself in a mess, sometimes. This brings me to the second part of Fr. Mumford’s quote, “Well, stop now and come into His presence.  Allow the Lord to bathe your feet and calm your mind.  Stop and rest your entire being in the very presence of God.  Let the love of the Holy Spirit wash over you and calm your entire being. Let the peace of God wash over you”

Max Lucado writes about Psalm 46:10, “‘Be still and know that I am God’ contains a command with a promise. The command? Be still.  Cover your mouth. Bend your knees. The promise: You will know that I am God. In the midst of your family storms, and in this storm that has swept over our country and the entire world, make it a point to be still and set your sights on him. Let God be God. Be open and willing. Allow God to be hallowed – holy in your life.”

So, run to and fall into the open arms of Jesus and let him love us. Listen to him say that we are his beloved. Hear him say that he is always with us.  He will restore us.  He will refresh us. He will give us peace. Why don’t we do this more often? Well, maybe it’s just me. Why, when I am so dry and so tired, don’t I immediately run to my prayer chair and into the arms of God instead of dragging my feet? I need it more often when life is hard. That’s what I need to say, today.  And also do.

Grace and Peace,

Donna

 

Because…..I Must

“I write to know more about my own struggle…the purpose of my writing is to protect my spiritual health.” ~ Henri Nouwen

“Why do you write?” Some people ask and then they add, “I mean, how did it come about that you do write?”

The second question is the easiest to answer. Somehow, I was always pretty good at it. English was my favorite subject in school – my second favorite, really, my first being chorus (choir). I always got “As” on writing assignments and when I got out of secretarial school, I was asked to be secretary of the church board (Vestry) and I wrote an occasional newsletter article. If notes were required, I was always asked to take them. I stopped carrying pencils or pens to give other people a chance and then they gave me theirs and asked me to carry on. After my stint in college and graduating from St. Thomas Seminary with a certificate in Pastoral Ministry and Spiritual Direction, I was very tired of writing. I had to think too hard. I didn’t need to write any more and I promised myself that I wouldn’t.

It seems that God had other plans because one day my mouth opened itself and asked Fr. Jack if he would like for me to write a newsletter article each month. I tried to stuff those words back in but they wouldn’t go. A few months later, while I was president of the Daughters of the King, I began writing a weekly meditation. That’s it.

The ‘why do I write’ question is THE question. I blame it on God because I think God gave me that passion. God gave me the gift though I didn’t know it for a long time. Henri Nouwen puts it well in the opening quote. I think that is part of it for me. When I write, I have to pay attention to what is going on around and within me. I have to pay attention to my inner struggle. It helps me recall my personal stories of God. Because I am writing, I have to put words to my experience. That’s not something I always want to do.

In September, I went on a short retreat with some soul sisters. The retreat house is a silent house so you can imagine, since we knew each other fairly well, how difficult silence was to keep. We had a meeting room in which we could talk and share and we did manage to keep it down pretty much. Well, except for the night when we stayed in our meeting room after Compline and had wine and snacks. But what is said in the retreat house stays at the retreat house. Laughter is good medicine.

We did have periods of silence in which I did some reading and meditating. Sometimes, I took the meditating out of doors and walked around the grounds, with camera in hand, trying to pay attention. I took photos of statues, flowers and changing leaves. I watched and talked to birds, and set looking over the valley. I walked to the statue of St. Jude. There was no blue bird this day like there was on that day. I have never seen another like that in all of the 30 years I have gone there. Just that day. The day I found out that our son had died by his own hand. Before I knew that was so, the bird assured me that our son was not lost. God had him. It made sense when I got home. I felt tears behind my eyes, though, as I stood there this day. At dinner one evening we saw deer from the dining room window – two adult females and a plethora of young animals. We didn’t see where the father was but I’m sure he was around watching over his family. Like God does.

During some of our reflections we talked about staying in the present moment and being in awareness which is basically the same thing. We talked about how hard it is to do this. This does not mean that we can’t plan for the future nor remember the past, but it does mean that we can’t live in either place. It is in the present moment that God makes himself known to us. Not that he didn’t and not that he won’t but if we get stuck in either place, we miss where God is and what he is now bringing about. Staying in the Present Moment and cultivating Awareness is lingo that contemplatives (and maybe others) use that simply means “Pay Attention.” Pay attention right now in this moment and look for God. What does God want us to see or know as we stand here?

I am reading An Altar in the World, by Barbara Brown Taylor. She writes about being able to notice God around us if we are present to where we are standing. She talks in this section about walking as a most easily available spiritual exercise because going from one place to another is one of the best ways to recognize the Altars you are passing by all the time. She says, “Most of us spend so much time thinking about where we have been or where we are supposed to be going that we have a hard time recognizing where we actually are. When someone asks us where we want to be in our lives, the last thing that occurs to us is to look down at our feet and say, ‘Here, I guess, since this is where I am.’”

This reminds me of my grandson. You’ve heard this story before. It reminds me of when I had to walk him three blocks to school each day. The reason for this, actually, was that he was afraid that he would get distracted by the present moment of sparkling grass with dew on it, flowers in an old woman’s yard, or even the old woman herself, and forget his objective of getting to school on time. This six year old boy taught me a whole lot about staying in the moment and being aware of where you are—aware of where God is.

This is not easy. We learn things about ourselves, some of which we would rather not know. Where my feet are planted is a painful place right now. Even while writing, I can feel the tears. When I come to these places and times, the only safe, in-the-moment thing to do is to stay here where my feet have taken me, see what I see and feel what I feel. This is the place where God is. God speaks to me here. God teaches me here. God heals me here. God pours out his love on me here. God transforms me here.

So, what was the question? Oh. I write to put words to my experiences, my struggles, my joys, my gratitude, my regrets, and where God has come to me in each. Writing helps me be in touch with and share my story within God’s much larger story. Without writing, I would forget and not learn what I need to learn. Simple.

Frederick Buechner wrote, “Maybe nothing is more important than that we keep track of these stories of who we are and where we have come from and the people we have met along the way because it is precisely through these stories that God makes himself known to each of us….”

WHAT’S THE STORY

Lord, the Light of Your Love is shining,
In the midst of the darkness shining,
Jesus, Light of the World, shine upon us,
Set us free by the truth You now bring us,
Shine on me. Shine on me. ~ Graham Kendrick

Part One

A day or two ago there was a photo posted on Facebook of a statue of St. Francis bending down to talk with a bird. Beside the stone bird was a small blue bird looking intently at Francis as he spoke. It appears that they are in deep conversation. This photo reminded me of an experience I had 21 years ago on the last day of my annual retreat just before I left to go home. When there I learned that our son had died by his own hand.

On that last day, before lunch, I had taken a walk to visit the statue of St. Jude.  I go there almost every year because the view of the Front Range is fantastic, but also because St. Jude is the patron saint of lost causes of which there seem to be so many. I ponder there.  I pray. I pray for my son who is going down a road that is a dead end.  Once God said that he would not live to be an old man if he couldn’t turn around. That was true. I learned that God speaks to us in many ways this day.

As I stood there, a small blue bird lit on the base of the statue and conversed silently with me.  He cocked his head one way and then the other.  Words came to me. “There are no lost causes with God,” they said. I came home to learn that our son was found earlier that day. The words the bird told me reassured me that Doug was no longer suffering and was safe in the arms of Jesus. Somehow, somewhere God will make good from this tragedy. I don’t have to know what it is.

This story is one of the many stories I could tell.  We all have them, and can recall them if we put a bit of effort into it. We have them because God is involved in our lives whether we know it or not.  Once we learn them, they become part of the story we can tell about God. They are part of our evangelism – our witness. When we tell the Jesus story, people can argue with what we believe, but they can’t really argue with our experiences, though they may not believe us.  Case in point, I have another story. I call it my earring story.

Many moons ago my husband gave me a pair of gold ball earrings.  We had gone through a rough patch in our marriage just before this, so those earrings were special to me. I wore them to work one day and I kept putting my hand to my ear to touch them. Once when I did, I found that one of them was missing.  I looked all around my desk. I looked in the wastebasket.  I looked in the bathroom and in the car, although I was pretty sure it wasn’t there.  I prayed that God would show or tell me where it was so I could find it.  But no.

Dave was out of town on business and when he was, I would read in bed until very late.  I went to the bathroom before I turned out the light and when I came back to bed, I saw something sparkle in the covers.  You guessed it – my earring.   But the more amazing part of it was that the back was still on the post. Those of you who have pierced ears will understand that this is impossible.  But not for God.  Nothing is impossible. That was one of the things that I learned about God that day. I also learned that he cares about what I care about. I told this story at a retreat I gave once and, while I was in the ladies room, I overheard one woman say to another, “Do you believe that earring story?” I wanted to jump out and say, “I know, right??? As I said, they can argue with your belief but not your experience, though they might not believe it.

So what’s my point with all my story telling?  It has to do with Learn the Story/Tell the Story – two elements of our Trinity Way of Life, and that our stories are a continuation of God’s story.

God’s story is a love story.  We learn that in scripture.  The Bible is a record of human beings growing understanding of what God is like.  God inspired the writers of the Bible to include the stories in it and he did that because he wanted us to understand that he made us, loves us, calls us, rescues us and brings us back into relationship with him if we will come.  I’ll write more about this next month, so stay tuned.  But in the meantime, what stories of God in your life can you tell? Think about them.  What did you learn about the loving God? How has God loved you through those experiences?

As we gaze on Your kindly brightness.
So our faces display Your likeness.
Ever changing from glory to glory,
Mirrored here may our lives tell Your story.
Shine on me. Shine on me.

Why Am I Here?

“Praise, my soul, the King of heaven; to his feet thy tribute bring;

Ransomed, healed, restored, forgiven, evermore his praises sing.

Alleluia, Alleluia! Praise the everlasting King. ~ Hymnbook 1982

“Why are you an Episcopalian?” he asked.

I actually had an answer that was on the tip of my tongue without having to spend time pondering whether it was the right answer.  Pretty good for an introvert, I think. Many, about 50, years ago, Dave and I were looking for a new denomination where we could worship.  God was calling us to something else but we didn’t really know that.  We just felt that the denomination where we were was not where we needed to be.  Now, I know that it wasn’t where God wanted us to be.  All the reasons we thought we had for leaving the old denomination really had nothing to do with it, but they did send us on our search.

I shared this desire with a neighbor over coffee one day and she said she thought we might like her church – the Episcopal Church.  Dave was stationed at the University of Colorado at that time studying engineering, and St. Aidan’s was across the street from the engineering building.  He went to the church while on break to sit for a while (this was still when churches could be left open) and began looking through The Book of Common Prayer – 1928 version. Did I say this was a long time ago?  The Prayer Book had fallen open to the service for Holy Communion and he read this invitation that falls just before the General Confession.

“Ye who do truly and earnestly repent you of your sins, and are in love and charity with your neighbours, and intend to lead a new life, following the commandments of God, and walking from henceforth in his holy ways: Draw near with faith, and take this holy Sacrament to your comfort; and make your humble confession to Almighty God, devoutly kneeling.”

I wish we still used this prayer more often.  It is in the “new prayer book” – Holy Eucharist, Rite I. It could even be written in a more modern language and that would be fine with me, but it was the words of this prayer that spoke to us. It acknowledged that, yes, we are sinners but God is a God of love, of forgiveness and he is always inviting us to return.  It said to me that even though each turning back is a new beginning, we weren’t starting over at our own beginning.  We do begin, again, but not in the same spiritual place.  By our returnings, ongoing spiritual growth and transformation is possible.  I had always believed, before, that I was never making any progress in my spiritual life.  I’m not even sure that I knew there was a spiritual life.  Reading this prayer, changed our lives or, perhaps, I should say began the process of the change.

Why am I still an Episcopalian? The question was implied. I am still an Episcopalian because this is my place.  It is my home.  I was called here and I haven’t been called anywhere else.  But, it is really even stronger than this; I feel I have been sent and told to stay. I loved the liturgy and the mystery of this church since the very beginning.  It helps fill the emptiness in my soul.  When we receive the bread and wine in communion with others, we are fed spiritual food and “re-membered” together into the Body of Christ—Christ’s body on earth to our community and for the world. That is mystery.  How does this happen?  How does bread and wine do this? How does this God-filled bread and wine do this?

Years ago, I was going through a very difficult place in my life.  I had deep depression and panic attacks. I could hardly leave the house and, when I did, it was frightening.  Later, after I was some better, I found that if I attended a mid-week communion service in addition to the Sunday service, and received the Body of Christ in bread and wine, I could make it through the week.  If I didn’t, I couldn’t.  It is only through God’s Grace that mere bread and mere wine becomes Christ’s body. It is only thorough God’s Grace that sinful human beings can become Jesus’ body.  Only by Grace can we have an intimate loving relationship with God—He who chases us constantly and desires this relationship with us. We all are called to this.

Is the Episcopal Church perfect?  Nope.  No church is perfect.  Nothing on this earth is perfect, but God in his love and mercy will guide us, nevertheless, and by our turnings toward him, work out his plan for us all.  Imperfect as any church is and I am, this place is where I still stay.  I need it.

“Grace is something you can never get but only be given. The grace of God means something like: Here is your life. You might never have been, but you are because the party wouldn’t have been complete without you. Here is the world. Beautiful and terrible things will happen. Don’t be afraid. I am with you. Nothing can ever separate us. It’s for you I created the universe. I love you. There’s only one catch. Like any other gift, the gift of grace can be yours only if you reach out and take it. Maybe being able to reach and take it is a gift too.” ~ Frederick Buechner