beauty in despair

I realize that "despair" may seem extreme.

But some endings are just that.
Extreme.
Despairing.
Grievous.



Untimely.
Unavoidable.
Sad.

So it is as Beth and Karla fly home tomorrow.

Time has gone too quickly.



Friendships and conversations and relationships fall into one of the greatest gifts of life. Saying that doesn't mean they're easy.
In fact, we've had some hard and long conversations this past week.
But they're rich.



To quote one of my wee friends on this journey, they "shape us into better people."
Isn't that what we're called to do?



Our friend Paul once wrote,
"Don't give up meeting together, as some are in the habit of doing.
Rather, spur one another on toward love and good deeds."

The truth is, to say goodbye requires that at some moment we said hello. We interacted with each other's lives.
And those interactions were so good that we don't want to give them up.

Of course, these goodbyes do not mean we won't see one another again.



We're not sure when or how or where.

Regardless, we celebrate the overlap of lives and experiences. And we thank God for the gift of community.

We are better followers of Christ because of it!

Pictures:
#1 walking along the streets of Perth, Scotland
#2 River Tay
#3 Giant's Causeway Northern Ireland
#4 The five at Debbie's house in Scotland
#5 A "highland coo" outside Dunkeld, Scotland
#6 Beth, Karla and wee Beth

best face forward

here's a question...can a person look better in a picture than they actually look in real life?

We certainly could attest that the reverse is true.
Some people just donnae look good on photos...not the case with weans (kids) really. they're so gorgeous. They pretty much look good even with a dirty face or a pouty mouth.
Adults, not so much. Not all the time anyway.
So here's a few photos for you to enjoy (without knowing how it took to get them to look as "good" as they do).

And just one more

top: tommy, gilly, karla and beth
next: glorious wee beth
next: Gilly's brother in law and nieces, Russell, Meghan, Kirsten
next: the girls at the garden center (aye it looks like a wee cafe coffeeshop. we're baffled too!)
finally: Steven and Vanessa and Karla looking at the photos of Karla and Keith's
"weans." "Aye," they both said, "they're gorgeous!" And we concur!!

no power

My digital camera blinks this wee message: battery exhausted!!!!
so I cannae post a new picture.

We're actually visiting some "old" friends, Stevie and Vanessa (see the new link called UK allstars, or something, i cannae mind, on my friend's interesting links) whom we met when they visited New Hampshire ten years ago. They have three kids, born within 11 months (not triplets). It's amazing to share stories of kids born prematurely, kids who had a brain bleed and subsequently have cp, and ultimately the miracle of God's healing and His presence along the way.

It's good, yet bittersweet, to swap the stories. We long for the complete healing God offers. In the meantime, these friends in Scotland, and our dear friends Keith and Karla in Michigan, join their voices and hearts asking God to provide the best life for their precious kids. We walk together in the journey. And it's a privilege.

Pressing in as we go...

tor toy zees

So in a conversation just the other night there as Gillian asked us about childhood pets, Beth, Karla and I were speaking of dogs, mostly. Gillian says, "well, we had a few tor toy zees...but they ran away." To which Tommy said, "in a span of three weeks??" Which helped us translate her Scottish and realize she meant a tortoise, or in common English, a turtle.
We're definitely learning a whole new English language here again.

The truth is we're hanging out with and absolutely loving wee Beth. She is a miracle. She is clever. She is absolutely gorgeous. And a miracle. Born April 11 (2006)at 1 lb, 4 oz, presently weighing in at 12 lbs, 8, with no visible "defects," she is lively, engaging, alert, and ridiculously happy. She wakes up happy. She goes to bed happy. We watched the videos of her first several months and cannae believe the size of her and the color of her. She definitely fought for life. Although my previous post recorded the benefit of death, and we're definitely called to die, our bodies tend to naturally fight for life. And wee Beth proved it. It's amazing. We have an amazing God. More photos of this precious treasure later, I hope!!!

In other news, internet access is not as accessible as we might have hoped. So...these posts may be short and rather infrequent. But we're having a great time. It's been lovely weather (40's and 50's) and sunny. Absolutely brilliant!!

right very now!!

leaving...
on a jet plane...

but the snow is fallin, fallin, fallin...

so your prayers for safe and timely connections are most welcome.

And stay tuned!

one

In my previous life, probably b/c of a college friend, i utilized this philosophy regarding vacation: you don't count the day you're on, and you don't count the day you leave, thus in my current scenario it's ONE day away. (Please don't consider this too closely as this method breaks down completely b/c tomorrow technically is the day before I leave, and I can't count it...and well, hmm, see, yes, it falls apart, but really, b/c it's the day before the trip, it doesn't even matter).
It's about anticipation.
And preparation.
And excitement.
And countdown.
I love it.

So the last time I saw Tommy and Gilly was when Beth and I traveled to Scotland for their wedding in 0605. This is one of the fabulous pictures that Beth captured of the day.

Since that time, they moved to Ireland (well, technically, Tommy already lived there). Their story continued in a whirlwind of sorts as they soon got pregnant and were excited to usher in a new life. Until the baby ushered in quite early (April instead of July) and we all hung on with them as "wee" Beth fought for life.
We desperately wanted to go see her. And them. So finally, by God's great grace, oodles of prayers, and the green light, so to speak, last August, after wee Beth had been safely home for a couple weeks, we booked the flight. For February!!!
We don't even know what she looks like. But we're on our way, shortly.
And someday, soon, I'll likely have lovely pictures of her for all to enjoy. Stay tuned!

death

Grief hung like the air on a Michigan summer day while we packed boxes. The degree of humidity varied, based a bit on length of association. But it was heavy, none-the-less.
Grief can't be contained oft times. Nor controlled. Nor managed.
Grief exists, but simple it is not. Grief consumes. It eventually fades, but not always before plowing through another time or two.

We sorted, at times casually, and hurriedly, through 11 years of church life and ministry. Some items we packed to use. Other items were disgarded. Some were stacked for others to browse through.
Eleven years of life, transformations, births, anniversaries, deaths.
And this passage ended by packing boxes, taking down the signs, and shutting the doors.
Death.
The strange thing is, the death of this church is providing life for another church. How bizarre, really, to consider that death leads to life.
The life-giving quality of death doesn't minimize pain.
The life-giving quality of death doesn't negate loss.
Yet life springs forth.

Today, despite the loss for the church which closed its doors and is encouraged to join "mine," I give thanks for death.
I've heard that unless a seed falls to the ground that new life cannot spring forth.

So we journey on.
Through death.
On to life.

Bring life to us again oh Lord.

Pix credit: Lauren!! Playing/teaching hand and foot at MCC winter retreat 0107.

back by popular demand and...

A couple days ago, i had the privilege of lunching with Marjo and Denise, and a couple more great friends (Lori and Cindy). Unfortunately, I don't have a photo of the entire fivesome. Regardless, I love them and delight in spending time with them. So, it's time to highlight their lovely mugs for a few more days. [Jordan, hopefully this will silence your complaints about removing the picture so quickly! :-)] And here's also a photo including both Jordan and Lori... Cindy, my apologies. I'll have to post a picture of you some other time...

In other news, I've been thinking about love and logic a lot lately.
It stems from watching my friend Karla parent, mostly. And from a few months ago when Beth and I got to stay with Karla and Keith's kids. It amazes me how the kids respond to the boundaries. Personally, it's sometimes hard to guard them. For instance, the kids are sooo cute, so when their behavior is naughty, or even on a rare occasion, defiant, sometimes the cute factor clouds my perspective.

But really, as parents especially all know, kids need boundaries. And contrary to my people-pleasing tendencies, kids don't "hate you" when you stick to your word. It's still about choices and options. When Z didn't want to put on his coat, he was given the option, "Z, do you want to wear your coat, or carry your coat?" He chose carrying it. But not too far into the cold, he decided to put the coat on. Every night the kids get a choice of either crawling in bed themselves before the timer goes off, or having their [momma, papa, etc] put them in bed. Most of the time they want to do it themselves. But if they procrastinate and the timer expires, even if they balk at not doing it themselves, they don't get to exercise that choice.

Undoubtably there are other better examples, but I was wondering, if in some slightly parallel way, if God uses love and logic with us? Unfortunately, for the life of me, I can't think of what scenario I was imagining even tho I really have been pondering this for several weeks now. That's quite scary.

but maybe you can...any ideas out there? Have you ever felt like God presented two options, providing you a choice, yet when it came down to it, and the "timer sounded," that you wished you would have done it "your" way instead of God doing it??

category of "embarassing myself..."

Truth be told, as most people who know me could attest, this title could be a regular feature of the gracie blog. So here are some of the latest entries...

In my ever-too-extroverted way, I made what should have been an innocent comment to someone at our winter retreat this weekend, only to realize that I was not just pointing out a fuzzy in hair. It was dandruff that I blasted the spotlight on. And it was embarassing. To all of us. I'm soooo sorry. (As always, it's appropriate to think before speaking. duh!)

In my enthusiasm to get to Ireland, because I'm heading there with two of my favorite friends NEXT very week, I was on the phone with the airline to make sure our seats are together. As I so helpfully articulated the confirmation number, it took a few seconds before I realized I said, "F as in Frank, R as in Roger, and X as in Zebra." Zebra? er, uh, rather, Xylophone. Jeepers, it looks even more ridiculous in print. And it sounded pretty ridiculous. Beth may still be laughing...not to mention the airline help person.

And then today, on a quick walk around a store with Karla, we were mocking and actually being a bit disgusted about some t-shirts slogans and sayings. Nevertheless, I found one I tho't was kinda cute. Until I realized these stick figures were not so very cute. They were suggesting a 3 some. Eeew. (Thank you oh wise Karla for informing my ignorance.)

In other news, it's my brother in laws birthdays today (not even slightly sure how hyphen and apostrophe action should happen there. Help! Mom). Both Rich and Lito. And to top all of that off, my nephew Pedro is in town...so this picture is in honor of Lito and his sons, the Monillas boys!
On top of that I'll also say, Happy Birthday Rich and Lito!!! I celebrate you on this very day!

Finally, I start my next class tomorrow. Hooray!!!
And I'm going to Ireland next week.
Oh right,
Mentioned that already.

Pix credit: Rich above, Hildred, 0406, and Monillas boys, also Hildred, 0803.

defining "who I wanna be when I grow up"

In the category of "can't avoid it" questions, I'm constantly reinventing and (hopefully) improving my response
to the "what do you do" query.
At our second annual church winter retreat this very weekend,
another "can't avoid" question surfaced. "If you could do anything, what would you do?"

I'm at a loss.
Truly.
Not that I don't know what things I do or do not like to do.
Or even because I haven't enjoyed jobs in my past.
I'm fond of nearly every one on record.

but, when it comes to filling in the job "category" on a search engine like monster, I don't know what to say. I'm not an engineer, nurse, doctor, teacher, therapist, designer, etc. I can't even claim to be clergy, or a pastor. And "other" seems much too, well, ambiguous? perhaps? I can legitimately claim my graduate student status, but I'm not sure that really increases my "attractiveness."

Here's something, not sure what, but something. At last year's retreat, I retreated into slumber sometime just after midnight. Although the accommodations were more than adequate, I frequently woke during the night as persons walked through the hallways, or even as I heard the "still up" folks laughing in the common area down the hall. In fact, one wake up, I glanced to see it was nearly 3 am and thought, "crazy, foolish people. Why would anyone stay up THIS late..."

so this very morning, after some satisfying and competitive games of hand and foot, when the "remaining four" of us decided to retire, and it was nearly FOUR AM!!! I could only transfer the crazy, foolish label to myself.
Except, reacting personally, naturally, it was worth it to stay up.

So, does that "endurance" register anywhere as a valuable hiring quality??

Hmmm. Maybe I don't want to know the answer to that.

things that freak me out... a little

I'm stealing this phrase (things that freak me out) from my friend, Cindy. And in my case, it's not a quick explanation. But I'll offer a beginning. I grew up in a Christian environment, with parents who love the Lord. They prayed for me and grew me up in the Lord. Part of that provision included education in a church and school setting. I was taught wonderful truths from the Bible.

That said, (with much gratitude for what was taught to me), I don't recall much guidance about the Holy Spirit. Oh yes, in the sense of a comforter, as one who teaches, guides, corrects, etc. But as to the more "mysterious" side of the Holy Spirit, well, I'm not remembering much emphasis.

So my journey, and perhaps growing hunger and awareness, has provided some incredibly rich and yet, sometimes "freaking-me-out" type of experiences.

For instance, the first time I "fell over" to rest in the Spirit.
I know what happened.
I'm not one who can really be "pushed" to the ground.
Yet, it's not that easy to describe how or why God uses this way to "speak."

I remember the first time someone said, "Diana, I can see the Holy Spirit all over you..." (Please, I mean no disrespect, but I remember thinking, really? would I see that, too, if I had a mirror?)

Several years ago I was introduced to the Dunamis project, which teaches about the Holy Spirit. I attended a conference on the healing power of Jesus and witnessed ways God continues to heal now.

People argue this type of gift ceased, and some might argue about some of the ways healing may be "exploited" in our media saturated world. I merely testify to what I saw and what I've experienced.

And then, there's the whole prophecy area--including the word of knowledge, word of wisdom, word of prophecy "family." Yes. This can perhaps conjure up horrible memories or even fear of condemnation or judgment. I'm not an expert, but what I've learned and been reading about in this area insists that God's plan for prophetic words is that they are words of comfort, edification, and for the purpose of building up the body of Christ.

And I'm thinking, don't we need that??
Any opinions about any of this out there?

Regardless, for me personally, the journey, exploration, adventure, and learning continues.
So much mystery. So little time...

i hate it when i miss a party!

Late last week, three of my favorite three-year olds, (well, at the time, they were still two), celebrated their birthday. I was out of town so I missed it. Their Mom, in all her niceness, tho't about celebrating them at our Monday night small group party which meant I could participate in the festivities.
Yippee! So I "signed up," not being one to miss out on such a significant event. And then, got back into town to realize, I'd also committed to leading a meeting at my church, the same very night.

Argh.
Must make better notes in my mental calendar.

Hoping for a few celebratory moments prior to my meeting, I showed up early to at least see the kids, but they were gone getting their hairs cut.
I left for my meeting, seeing their cute new "dos" but without any play time.
And, contrary to my other friend's' assurance, they had all kinds of fun while i was gone.
Happy for them...really, I am!

I absolutely abhor missing parties.

In related news, however, I must rejoice and testify that God has soooooo answered the prayers and cries of our hearts at "my" little church that the meeting really blew me away. He answers in such fantastic, creative ways. I mean, sometimes I think I have a good idea, but Abba, Father, He has that going on! He's good!! And I love seeing His great ideas roll out.

Thanks, Lord, for your overwhelmingly generous and creative ways!

Pix credit: #1 Z & me & S: Camping 0806, Karen!
#2 B in his blue-eyed-ness; camping 0906, His momma!

shattered

to clear the record immediately, I should explain that the word "shattered," to our Scottish friends, (and maybe others, too), means one who's had too much drink. that definition is not my intent for this post.

Right, so here's the thing, I'm on a retreat. And since it's the tail end of my first week in the graduate program for "my" masters in spiritual formation, I expected the retreat to provide the space and format to practice the spiritual disciplines, and to reflect on the week's teaching and experiences, etc.

And then, we arrived at the monastery.
After a brief stop to drop off our belongings and get oriented with our sleeping area, we went to the chapel.
And we proceeded to stand through our first three hour worship service.
(I did say stand!)
And that was the beginning of the disallusionment of another paradigm.

I recall the moment of "understanding" systemic racism during a race-relations training I participated in. It ocurred throughout the training in significant ways in part as I realized that chunks were omitted from history lessons.

Somewhat similarly, the innocent introduction to the Orthodox church begins.
To be sure, likely I have not cared to know more. But I'm sure that before this weekend, my only realized connection with the orthodox church was that a guy on a volleyball team, from long ago, was part of the Greek Orthodox Church. And that's about it, really.

I won't pretend to do justice to all I'm learning and experiencing. and I won't pretend that I'm ready or eager to "convert" to this type of Christianity, even if they are the original church. I'm not even slightly drawn to the liturgy and worship service, for one thing.

But I'm completely captivated by the way they pursue living the Christian life. The perspective they take on heaven and salvation seems to line up much more with scripture than with what many mainline evangelicals profess and enact. And their practices about community, caring for one another, and charity in the context of the church, and church meaning all of life, really compel me. Unfortunately, I've identified that I entered the weekend with a preconceived notion. In my ignorance, I'd lumped this church in with my limited knowledge of catholicism. When that's not the case at all.

There are several things, however, which challenge my "normal" way of thinking. For instance, they pray for people who have "departed." They include them in the communion of saints. "Why should we stop praying for them?" Which supports their perspective that heaven is not a destination, nor is it a static environment. It is a process of continuing to become more like Christ. So they continue to pray for the saints who have gone on before them.

Because of my previously stated ignorance, when I began listening to this, I immediately assumed they were praying TO these people, which made me defensive and want to reject everything else on offer through the orthodox church. How unfortunate, actually, to reject the whole, because what I witness, observe, and believe I'm learning, is that these Christians love the Lord and each other and His creation with all their heart, soul, mind and strength. It is a privilege to participate in their community and receive their generous hospitality for these days.

Open the eyes of my heart, Lord, I want to see you.

two-and-a-half

Yikes!!! I'm in school again. Crazy-i-ness. Two-and-a-half days into this masters program and I'm loving it.

I'm at Spring Arbor University, being taught by Richard Foster, among other wise and wonderful instructors. I'm meeting "my" fellow pilgrims in this [three year] journey. Our Christian, celtic (he calls himself a contemplative mystic) worship leader completely captivates us with his gifted guitar rhythms and his unique weaving of liturgical prayers, hymns, worship songs, and original songs. AND we're reading great books like Bonhoeffer's Life Together, Willard's The Great Omission, and well, a book I'm struggling to get through at the moment, The Orthodox Church, by Timothy Ware. (Is it really shameful to admit I really don't know what the orthodox church is???)

To help in the reading, (actually, it's really not so much helping me to read, but more about accountability, community, and motivation), I'm headed to my small group. We're gonna read together. (Aw!!) So I gotta run.

But sometime, I'll post about how the Holy Spirit moved in us today...how we heard a 75-year-old Lutheran pastor talk about healing prayer...how I'm seeing (via stories) the movement of the Lord across denominations and nondenominational churches in such exciting ways. And well...I guess, other things that might emerge in this week.

And one of these days, perhaps even at the retreat at the end of this week, I'm gonna deal a bit more with the reality of not having a job. yeah. One of these days....

inevitable

I knew the question would come.
I'd actually been practicing conversations so as to avoid the question, and the subsequent answer.
But it was unavoidable.
Last night, in the best of circumstances, as "my" lil church plant is embracing another church to become part of us, as we hosted a "get to know you" type of open house, I was asked, "so, Diana, what do you DO?"

"Ummmm, nothing, actually."

I've pondered this question sincerely hundreds of other times.
I've often thought about how we are human beings, and not human doings, and wondered how we could ask questions of one another to determine who we are, aside from discovering what type of occupation we hold.

Unfortunately, for the people who asked, I couldn't disguise my discomfort or my pain as I responded. In fact, in the category of tmi, likely, I expressed it. This led to their discomfort, and their apology for asking me. Which is ridiculous, and made me want to apologize. It's our common practice, afterall. Probably nine times out of ten when we first meet people we ask, "what do you do?" None of that was their fault. Ugh. It's complicated.

And then, just minutes ago, I walked into this Panera, one farther from my house, b/c for some reason I often run into people I know at the one closest to my house, and as I slid into a corner booth to remain anonymous, someone says, "Hi Diana!!" And as I look up and greet her, she also says, and forgive me, the volume seemed like a megaphone to the world,
"Hey, I hear you're unemployed!"
It felt like I was labeled with an inappropiate social disease, which is pathetic, I know.
God is breaking this pride for sure.

Perhaps these experiences needed to happen to force me to articulate and reflect on who I really am.
A job certainly provides boundaries and definition. And I loved my job. So it also provided joy, challenge, great friendships, and fullfilment, among other things. And to be sure, employment provides the necessary financial security, or some stability at least.

But what anchors anything, and what remains, is who I am.
And really, the only thing that matters in defining me, is that I am a child of God.

And my job description is to love God and love others.

With such simplicity, why does that seem so stinkin' hard??


Pix credit: A waitress in Florida took this picture for us. :-) This is another picture of some friends, from my last work trip, who are some of the folks in the barriers to cross cultural ministry that I'm part of...or, was a part of, as it were.

farewell

Some moments hang with such ceremony and reverence that to comment seems intrusive. Still, my soul remains heavy with events of the day.

The small group team which I was privileged to work alongside these last 4 1/2 years offered me a blessing today. They had wanted some moments of farewell and closure, and even though my role officially "ceased to exist" on December 31, today was the first day we could get the 15 folks on a conference call.

And so, with some fear and hesitation, actually, I phoned to join this "final" call with the team. Perhaps my hesitation stemmed from denial--not wanting closure because I didn't want the phonecall to signal the journey's end. There was other junk within me as well. I wanted an honest conversation, yet, I didn't trust myself to "not sin" or to not let the hurt of my heart spill out. I didn't want my wounds to poison the beauty of the extended blessing.

Sometimes hurt and pain cannot be avoided.

When a question was directed toward Jordan asking her how she was doing, words failed.
The turmoil and choked silence signalled other distress, and seemed most appropriate, actually, in light of the process and her continuing reality.

Yet the love and blessing also serves to soothe the pain, at least providing space to identify the blessing of a partnership and journey. Thus, I'm extremely grateful for the opportunity. My life is so much richer because of this incredible group of passionate ministry partners and friends.

In a different setting, yet similar mood, our attention turned to the funeral for President Gerald R Ford here in GR. And after we watched most of it, Jordan and I walked the couple miles to the church where the funeral was held. We arrived in time to see the processional reach the motorcade while the band played Faith of our Fathers, and Hail to the Chief. We joined the respectful and quiet crowd as soldiers loaded the casket into the hearse. We watched all the family members (one car withiin inches of us) and the dignitaries exit the church and enter their vehicles. Still silent, our eyes followed the lengthy line of vehicles drive down the street until they left our view.

We reached Jordan's house in time to watch the graveside service on television with a surreal sense that we had nearly touched these grieving family members and now were watching their not-so-private pain displayed all over again.

So many things in the day were unusual here, from the mild temperatures and glorious sunshine, to the historic moments of a presidential burial.

I'm not sure how to lay all of the thoughts, memories, images, and moments to rest.
Yet I know where to seek the rest of God. May His love, mercy and grace sustain us all.

photo credit: www.woodtv.com website

panic and provision

In a seemingly random and innocent move, a friend was "playing" on my mac on new year's eve and accidentally opened a word document on my desktop. upon closer observation, it was the requirements for my first class for my master's degree, the class which starts next week.

I didn't consume all the information, but a warning flashed in my very mind. The warning of "don't procrastinate about this!!
Investigate all you need to know before it's too late." (Pretty detailed warning, I know.)

So, in my first unemployed status action yesterday, I reopened the document to discover that I'm expected to thoroughly read five books by Sunday, submit three book reviews/reports, and be prepared to write two additional more extensive reports upon the completion of next week's intensive seminar.

PANIC ensued--like intense and major fluttering of my heart, soul, spirit, and hands actually!! Aaaiiieeee... (or insert your personalized panic noise should you have one).

Thus, I went right to it. Which means, I quickly checked email a minute. (I'm an ESFP afterall.) And that's where the ambush of God's provision hit me. One awaiting email was notification of a gift certificate for Amazon. With that gift certificate, I ordered the aforementioned books, save for one which I already owned, and one which Amazon doesn't carry. This may not seem entirely signficant, in that it wasn't hundreds or thousands of dollars for these books. But, it was an unexpected provision. And as we all trust God for our daily bread, it seemed like manna falling from the sky.

Panic prevented.
At least for a few minutes!!

Thanks again Abba!!

first

it's the first official work day of 2007...and I'm not working.
weird.
instead I got to hang out with great friends (from what feels like a former life)
and reconnect with the activities and passions of their hearts.
I'm so glad for that opportunity.

still, i'm missing my work friends already.
so, the picture above shows you two of my favorites, denise and marjo.

I love you guys!!

distracted

You likely can identify with me that there is a lot happening...
-endings
-parties
-completions
-wars
-rumors of wars
-births
-deaths
-beginnings
-certainty
-uncertainty
-joy
-grief
-curiosity
-boredom
-anticipation
-disappointment
-expectation
-monotony
-silence
-noise
(feel free to add to the list.)

And in the midst of pondering life, the end of the year, God's provisions over the last year, the beginning of something new, etc., in pounces energy and activity in the shape and glorious color of Kate and Georgia (evidenced here by an exhilirating time of Disney's paper doll princesses narrated by the oh-so-imaginative Georgia Grace).

It's undeniable. For 24 fun-filled hours, which unfortunately included some sleep (unfortunately only in that it means we couldn't be playing and hanging out. We needed the sleep. Believe u me. Georgia especially, God bless her!!) Kate and Georgia and their fabulous parents, my sister Carmen and my b.i.l. Rich provided a delightful distraction. (Katrina, here, not to be outdone by Disney, or Georgia, for that matter, is holding one version of the American Girl doll propaganda, er, merchandise, which, yes, I succumbed to purchase for her.)

One of my favorite questions in the 24 hour extravaganza:
"Auntie Diana, would you be happiest if we stayed with you
(fingers counting down),
five, four, three, two or one days??"
(Is this a trick question??)

My answer of,
"I'd be happiest if you could stay here forever..."
didn't really fit into the finger counting equation, I so astutely detected by her confused look.
But, the 24 hours were pretty happy.

And from dear Kate...
"I kinda hid my crabbiness yesterday," she confided this very morning,
"unlike" (gesturing to oblivious Georgia) "her, don't you think??"

Yep. Hidden. Undetected. Didn't-hinder-a-thing-unnoticeable-crabbiness.
Am I taking lessons from my 8 year old niece??
I'm certainly trying!

[Speaking of taking lessons, you likely noticed Rich, above, displaying his rhythmic drumming skills (or at least his acting abilities).
Oh, check out my restored grace post, below, too, if you have a moment. As I finally added the picture (thanks also to Jack)!!]

Blessed new year's eve all!

disoriented

she woke up and waved at me... and that's what hit me.
what if I fell asleep in a car seat and was transported from wherever to somewhere else, waking up not only with a blanket covering me completely, but in a completely 'foreign' land?
I imagine the scene to be rather chaotic because of the disorientation alone.

As I stepped off the plane last week, Florida greeted me with warm temps, bright sunshine, multiple flipflops and....dangling snowflakes? poinsettias? flocked Christmas trees? Somehow my mind couldn't marry the two. Summer and Christmas screamed for attention and in my head it was an either or situation.

In the same way, this sweet chlld, sleeping so soundly, awaking in a church service, midst robust celebratory praise, responding with a gentle wave and smile, well, it seems like disorientation might be on offer there, too...somehow, not. I don't know how God wired that to happen, but it's amazing to me.

And so I wonder, when our precious Savior and Lord, Jesus, opened His eyes, dearly departed from His Father's physical right hand, awakening in a rustic stable or cave, welcomed by His new parents, did any strains of disorientation accompany Him? Or was His focus for our behalf and to do the will of His Father sufficient?

There's likely other questions of greater import. But I still wonder.

This I know, my life could never be without that precious baby. I celebrate you again Jesus. Happy Birthday. Thank you for living and dying so we could die and live with you, too! I love you Lord Jesus.

peeves, pop, and a celebration

I'm away on my final work trip...at least, unless things drastically change in the next few days. And at dinner tonight, something struck a chord with me. The restaurant manager stopped to inquire about our meals and phrased her comments like this, "Hello. I'm the manager. I just wanted to stop by and make sure that things are okay. You're satisfied with our service and the food, correct?"

Perhaps a person could analyze my motivation, and that's likely a whole different post. But my peeve is that I don't appreciate being forced into a response.

it's the same way I react when I ask someone, "How are you?" and they respond, "Good. You too?"
I'm not sure how to name this aversion. Perhaps my best attempt is that when someone says, "you too?" I feel like they don't really want an honest response. Their posture doesn't invite originality or even transparency, but rather expects a normative, programmed response. And at the expense of sounding slightly schizophrenic, I'm not identifying this because I always offer an honest response to the "how are u?" question. But I do want permission to respond with what's on my heart.
anyway, enough said. It's not really that important but maybe someone out there knows whutimean.

In other news, I'm currently watching an HBO special featuring Bono and The Edge, and they're just dead cool. (Please say with irish or scottish accent. Much greater effect.) They communicate a remarkable message through rhythm, lyrics, friendship, melodies, harmonies, activism, priorities, etc. Pretty unpredictable and often unpretentious heroes.

And lastly, I want to honor a friend who celebrated his birthday last week. He doesn't want fame and glory. But he truly is a hero in how he lives. I respect his honest expression of faith. I appreciate the way he pursues Christ. His blog entries provoke hundreds of responses partially because he opens up space to question and ponder why we do church the way we do, among other things. He seeks to live fully for God but not without question and or struggle. And he and his wife are some of my favorite parents. They're raising some of my favorite kids (yes, their children) with integrity and grace and truth. And although my words can't do justice, I do want to celebrate the anniversary of his birth. Happy Birthday K!

photo credit: Beth, 0906

restored grace

Grace arrived broken.

That is, in October, I received a birthday gift from my sisters (the word GRACE), and unfortunately, despite their careful packaging, grace arrived broken. So it sat on my table at home for several weeks. I put the pieces in place, and they'd tumble out of alignment, demonstrating their brokenness. I didn't tell my sisters, actually, not wanting to spoil their thoughtful and gracious gift.

Eventually, I brought it to work, because I knew a handy co-worker would tell me what to do. And he did. I wrote down his suggestions and intended to put "grace" back together. Still grace remained broken.

And then, Wednesday, after being out of the office for a few days, I noticed, Grace. And I knew, Grace was repaired in love by Jack. I notice the cracks in some places, but others are undetectable.



A new gift of Grace. I'm so thankful.

Jack also emailed me these words this morning:

One of the reasons that I was interested in repairing your
"Grace" is that I am convinced that there is no more
beautiful noun in the English language (I'm excluding proper nouns).

That name to me as the best Elder I ever served with urged me
to be sure to preach the grace of God. That got me to thinking about it.

Grace is love, with the special idea: though we do not deserve it
we are loved anyway. Its root is in the One who loves us. Thus
we may be sure of it. I hope I can keep on in my soul to be
amazed: there is grace for me..... Amazing grace, expensive grace,
everlasting grace.

And for you.

I am thankful you are under his grace. And I pray that you keep on
in that hope and confidence and assurance.

In His grace,
Jack

Thanks be to God for friends like Jack. And for the ways God shows and restores love and grace in our lives. May we be faithful as we receive this grace and share it with others. Be glorified Abba!

extinction

Today found me living a different life, in some respects, as my friend Beth and I are staying with and caring for our friend's three two year olds. It's life to the full and utter exhaustion in simultaneous spaces. I wouldn't trade it for the world (but I also know I get to sleep in my own bed tomorrow night).

Our ambitions included incorporating some holiday baking/cooking in the afternoon with another friend, following the kids' naps. [Likely,

Karen

will post about this as well.] In fact, we'd communicated and in some respects coordinated the various goodies we planned to make. The primary thing that Karen wanted to make was sugar cookies with fun shapes to frost and decorate. At a point already past turning back (doesn't that sound dramatic for Christmas cookies?), Karen realized she did not remember cookie cutters. And so we searched this house for a few moments before calling K to ask if she had them hidden somewhere. Her definitive, but negative response prompted a different tactic. Thankfully, Karen's sister also lives in this neighborhood. But a call to her house did not find her home. No worries, I thought. I offered to walk and ask the neighbors.

And here was my surprise: of the neighbors I found home, NONE, (as in zilch, zero, nada, nobody) had cookie cutters. Some offered baking powder, sugar, flour (I'm pretty sure only to feel useful, and in some slim way helpful, not thinking those ingredients could make the difference...) but no one had the fun and festive, fond and familiar metal shapes. (Perhaps an overindulgence of alliteration, I realize.)

So, what's to become of us? Are cookie cutters a thing of the past? Will the moments of creative decorating (at least before the growning realization that doubling the recipe meant way too many cookies to frost) disappear from our Christmas traditions? Or was this simply the wrong neighborhood, the wrong time and place, or...??

Pix credit: Group shot: Karen; camping, 0906, Karen and Zane: Beth; camping, 0806

surprise grace

remember my post of several weeks ago regarding my car window, garage door, etc? Well, November was a crazy month in some respects. I traveled out of state for work, and also traveled out of state to be with family for Thanksgiving...and thus, some things had to wait. The car window couldn't really wait. In the glorious snowy, winter, wind of west Michigan, i had to get my car door window fixed.

the garage door, however, didn't make the priority list. Even tho' it was so out of sorts that I couldn't open and close it manually (well, technically, I could, but only with the assistance of two other people). In my trunk I have a new garage door opener, and a new cable, just in case. And last week I finally called a few service places to schedule a service call for yesterday. That was the plan. That is until...

Sun AM, I'm hurrying to remove snow and start my car (b/c it's outside my garage per above garage door issues) to warm it up before heading to church. It's a potluck day so I'm carrying extra food and doing a few trips in and out of my house. I sit in my car and nearly scald myself with my crockpot offerings, as I hear an unexpected, "Good morning," behind me. I turn and step around to see my neighbor from the condo across the way. He asks me, "what's wrong with your garage door?" I mutter something about not having time to get around to it and that something something is wrong with the door but I do have a new garage door and cable and some other such gibberish. (It's Diana speak for "Yes, I know the door looks lame and in fact is a bit of an eye sore for our condo community. And I know the average and normal person would have taken care of it long ago. And yes, I am feeling guilty about it. And yes, in some ways, I do want to think I've got the situation managed, despite the fact that my car has parked outside my garage for the last month...")
Obviously oblivious, he ignored my internal anguish, however, by saying, "you know, if it has anything to do with the door, it's the condo association's responsibility. You should talk to our maintenance guy before you do anything else..."
Hmmmm...really??

Which led to yesterday, where I cancelled the appt with the garage door fix it people, and went to talk to our condo maintenance guy, and although I didn't hear back from him definitively, when I pulled in last night, and asked my neighbors if I could run thru their garage, and they looked at me all quizzically and said, "sure, but, i think ur door works..." needless to say, I raced over to push my garage door opener button and nearly lept to the moon in my excitement that my door functioned properly again.

And, along with that joy, I can now return the mentioned new opener and cable to Sears, without paying any money to have the door serviced or to try to figure out how to assemble and install the new opener, and well, at this moment in my very life, I'm just every shade of grateful and thankful and thinking perhaps my condo association fee is really worth it after all.
Thank you Lord.

right responses 2?

so today at church, a friend of mine attempted to talk to me about my job situation. and perhaps i was misreading her discomfort, but i've come away analyzing the conversation thinking, geez, no matter what was spoken, it was a no win situation for her. She tried to offer sympathy, and I didn't really want that. And then when she tried to say that I was on a new and exciting adventure, well, I didn't really agree with that either. and then, when she was joking with me about needing to control the placement/location of food for our potluck and I said something like "yeah, well, i want to control something..." truthfully, light seconds after that she walked away. And i understand.

How does one respond??? I would never pretend that there is some manual of right or wrong responses. I haven't found good ones yet myself, obviously. So, sorry J! Please forgive me as I don't even really know how to react or respond as I've never been in this situation before.

That said, i'm thinking this might get to be a rather tired subject to blog about, that is, my job situation, so please forgive me and bear with me (or obviously don't read or comment for a long while and I'll likely get the hint...) but I have a feeling these posts may be part of my "dealing" with this aspect of life.

But can I say all that, to ironically admit that another conversation at church, where amazingly grace did reinhabit my spirit, or something, another friend was talking about his week and the lessons God was teaching him. And I realized how much of what he was saying was completley applicable to me. And I even muttered something akin to, "you know, it's so often not about the end result, it's how we respond, isn't it??"

Arghhhh, seriously, i've got to get better at the response.
perhaps it's time for bed to start over on a new day??

in other news, friend J also asked if I had a picture with all my sisters. She has 3 sisters, too, so it's fun to compare. Here's one from this past June: we're sitting in birth order, sort of, with the older two behind us younger ones. BR: Jenni, the oldest on the right, then Hildred, FR: Carmen, then me on the left. (or perhaps that's confusing, pure left 2 right: jenni, carmen, hildred, diana.) Six years apart from Jenni to me.

change

i know, i say i don't like to talk about the weather, but today, november 29, in w michigan, we had 60+ degree weather and an amazing thunderstorm, because, you guessed it, a front is moving through and we'll be experiencing a huge change in the weather. some changes are predictable, or at least something u can anticipate, others, are not so much.

today i received word about a job change. i was expecting some word about changes, but not the one i received. so i'm in a bit of a state of shock. and yet, i'm not even slightly emotional--perhaps b/c of the shock, but also perhaps because God has been preparing me most recently. at least, that's what I hope is the grace and peace in the midst of these somewhat stormy times.

honestly, the platitudes about God being unchanging and God being faithful are all true, as is every word of scripture. and i don't have it all memorized by any means, but a lot of it stirs in my soul, spirit, and some memory, too. and i do believe those things. and i know who God is...

but the human side of me (and perhaps no one else is like this, which is fine, afterall, this is my blog, as selfish and narcissistic as this may be) does panic a bit. i think i'm an easy going person. i think i'm someone who isn't that controlling. i think i go with the flow pretty well. and maybe those things remain true. but when you hear your job is being discontinued, and u look at the responsibilities of a mortgage, and other bills, and you wonder if u'll ever find a job you love so much again in ur life, and wonder somehow if the job change decision does really mean that you're a loser and you are incompetent, well, speaking for this person, i sometimes want the personal word from God that even if all of these things are in question, and even if they are true, He won't let me become .... well, say, a street person.

however, what if, being a street person is the best thing for God's kingdom? What if that's the best place to be used to serve Him and love people? what if the mortgage and the life and relationships which i hold as rich and good are not really the most effective for His kingdom? What if i'm valuing the wrong things all together and this is His way of getting my attention?
What if....?

I have a lot of questions, and there will always be so much unknown. i do know this, i have no where else to turn, for you, oh Lord, have the words of eternal life. That remains certain!

Oh, and the pix, doesn't have anything to do with post per se, but it's 2 of my sisters from this past Thanksgiving weekend. And I'm grateful for them!

overheard

so, i'm hanging out at my sister's, as u know from my braggin' on my nieces. and they're great. and i'll likely continue the brag fest. but today, i just had to laugh. several times. out loud. without restraint. because Georgia Grace is so, well, how else to say this, except, brazenly and yet innocently manipulative. Is that possible? Perhaps you should decide.

She's this peanut of a girl, five years old, just out of age 3 clothes. Massive blue eyes dominate the majority of her impish face. And yet she wields this power. I'm serious. She loves to have her way. So, as we headed out the door (or attempted to do so) to go ice skating, and she wanted some control, she pitches a fit about being forced to put socks on near the door instead of in the bathroom...so she says (imagine hand on hip, nearly wagging her finger), "Daddy, I left the light on in the bathroom. Do you want me to waste electricty or what??"
Seriously, lol...

And then, later, she's lounging on her parent's bed watching some tv with her Dad. She asks her Mommy, my very sister, if Carmen will do her a favor and tell Kate that Daddy will read them a book if Kate joins them on the bed. When my sister suggested Georgia just hop across the hall and tell Kate herself, Georgia bats her big blues and says, "Well, Mommy, what kinds of things do you do for me?"
As if...


Yes, watch out folks. And don't let this innocent face fool you. She'll completely capture your heart at hello and u won't know what to do.

traditions

I wouldn't say that I'm someone who holds to a ton of traditions. But the more I contemplate it, the more fond traditions I seem to recall. One such tradition is traveling to Fargo for Thanksgiving. This is likely my eighth year in Fargo.

And for the last two years, my nieces have been enamored with the parade. Thus, in the grand tradition of the Macy's Thanksgiving Day parade, Katrina Joanne and Georgia Grace created their own float.
Here are a few pictures of their festivities.

(They are wearing flower girl dresses from a wedding of their neighbor friend Leah from the summer of 2005)...and just to allow comparisions from the photos of 2005, here's a similar picture from a year ago.


I'm not sure if you significant differences are that visible, really, because they are beautiful girls, no matter what year it is!!

Thanks for giving...

An incredibly full and abundant life:

-for life, and the ability to play and live in the freedom of God's love
-for Jesus, for choosing to leave heaven, embrace human life, endure horrific death, and for overcoming death to usher us in to life

-for family who love Jesus and encourage me to do the same; for parents, sisters, brothers in law, nephews, nieces, and family yet to come

-for the imagination to create Thanksgiving day floats with nieces year after year (stayed tuned for forthcoming 2006 pix)
-for friends who welcome me into their homes, families, lives, and inspire me to follow after God with all my heart
-for freedom to post my love for Jesus and love for family and friends without fear

-for the tradition of eating turkey and all the fixings...we want for nothing
-for the opportunity to serve Jesus in a church and at a job in a way that partners with His kingdom plans
-for the privilege of hearing God's voice and being assured that we are His beloved children
-for the continual reminder that we can trust God for His best
Want to add anything to this not even slightly exhaustive list??

prophet, priest and king

do you know these roles? they're actually something that my particular denomination holds to as a deep part of our identity and heritage.
however, when it comes to truly understanding these toles, i'm not sure we really get it. it's challenging to understand things about God which require faith and trust in something mysterious and not quickly (linearly) plotted on a flow chart.
And i can't blame some of the hesitation and skepticism, really. We've experienced a few folks in this century who have sensationalized the prophet role, especially, in such a way that I am skeptical and hesitant.

But I'm curious, and I want to hear from God.
So I keep pressing in to scripture and pressing in to what I know.
I've heard from God in a variety of ways, lately. Consistently thru scripture, but also in a number of other ways. The unity of teaching on hearing God's voice points me to test these "words" in a variety of ways.
1-all words must be about the glorification of God. (Ask, does this "prophecy" glorify God?)
2-all words must agree with God's word
3-test it by asking others to witness to it
4-watch for the fruit (although this one may take awhile)

so i continue on the journey...praying, listening, hearing, and testing the word...
It IS mysterious. But it's also very exciting.

generosity

So i'm still reflecting about my Bowen island experience. Here's something else we experienced and observed. In the cozy pub (Doc Morgans) that provided us a lite lunch (in the fire, candle, and kerosene lantern light), as far as I know, they were the only establishment open to serve the public.
They had some type of kitchen generator (or some such thing) that allowed them to cook.. When we walked in (a group of about 20 or so), the wait person sighed loudly and deeply and muttered something akin to, "i'm not sure how much I can handle," and proceeded to say, "We only have some soup and a few sandwiches. Sit anywhere you find open..." So we did.
And their soup and other offerings were fantastic. Really excellent. (Although, they apologized for serving them with plastic spoons as they couldn't run their dishwasher...)

But anyway, the thing is, we sat there for a time experiencing the local flavor, and as we did, we observed a group of men, perhaps construction workers, or some such trade, enter the pub. They scanned the room for a place to sit, and upon finding only empty tables with dirty dishes waiting for them, they bused their own table. After clearing the dishes, they even asked for a rag and wiped it off. It was really great to watch. (A little humorous, too, b/c another group of guys walked in to sit down at this newly cleaned table. To which they were quickly informed, "hey, we cleaned this for ourselves." )

Still, it was good. And the busy waitress described above, well, we know SHE appreciated it.
I'm a fan of people on Bowen Island. Can u tell?

island life

Truthfully, I'm not sure how to describe my last few days. I've been on retreat, again (we repeated the retreat we hosted 2 weeks ago), only this time we were on Bowen Island, British Columbia. Which hopefully you can see on this cool little map.

First learning: Things will be different!!
Even though I laid down expectation that because this was a new group at a new location that it would be a different experience, I still wasn't prepared. The atmosphere differed. The spiritual intensity differed. The discussion and conversations differed. The worship and prayer time differed.

Second learning: Different doesn't equal bad.
Despite the differences, we know the value of each person who sacrificed time in their work and family life to participate in this retreat. And we were blessed by each other. Greatly.

Third: Retreats without electricity rule!
That is, to the person who wakes up on the final morning of the retreat, pondering how we all have to rush to catch the 12:30 ferry off the island, and wishes we could stay and relax for one more day. Ha! That's me, of course, and so when the storm was really wild (HUGE crashing waves!!!) and the electricity kept flashing and finally gave out, AND then, the report came that the ferry was NOT running, naturally, I was elated. Sure I had a plane to catch...in Seattle. But this was adventure!!!

Fourth: Retreat after the retreat.
That's the beauty of what happened. Not that we packed the "formal" retreat schedule. But waiting for word on ferry service in a local pub interupted by brash, yet helpful updates from the wait staff while sitting in candle, fire, and kerosene lantern light as the winds howled and waves crashed off the shore, well, it was restful, and unscheduled, and delightful.

Fifth: Breathe in the beauty of island life.
When the latest word that we would get off the island arrived and we waited expectantly in our lineup of cars only to hear yet another delay report, we received another snapshot of island life and culture. A young coffee shop owner knocked on all our car windows to invite us to their wee shop for free tea and free sandwiches. As we approached (snug cafe), we noted that the shop was lit up because an electric truck, waiting in line for the ferry, was spotlighting the shop with their big ol lights. How cool is that?! As we go inside, they hand us tea. They offer us free sandwiches. Then they break out the cookies. Plus they adamently refuse a tip or a payment, AND apologize to us for the blackout? It was some outrageous hospitality.

I love that. I wish we experienced it all the time. Wouldn't our world be cooler if such experiences didn't happen only in crisis or chaos or emergency? Or would that make them less novel? Somehow, I hope against that. Wouldn't it be amazing if we channeled our competitive drive into "out doing" people around us in generous hospitality? Our opening conversation instead of the weather might be, "hey, did you hear what so and so did for..." or some such report??

I've heard of this man, actually, whose life and experiences provoked such responses and reports. And the more I hear about him, the more I want to be like him. Hmmm...it shouldn't necessitate living an island life. But it couldn't hurt.

send your rain

Just a few years ago (I'm in denial about the actual number), I moved to Michigan. I learned about seasonal affective disorder [(SAD) refers to a mood disorder in which a person has depression that worsens in the fall and winter, when the amount of sunlight per day lessens]. I recall newspaper headlines claiming "Record 15 days without measurable sunshine..." and other such reports. Just the fact that they record and report the days without sun made me a bit depressed. I wanted to deny the existence of such a disorder, but, somewhere along the road, I've observed that I AM affected by the sunshine or lack there of.

Related to that, often, is precipitation levels and types. Although I don't have the statistics on hand, I've been told that West Michigan has as many grey days as my home Seattle, without the reputation of being a rainy area. I've also heard that W Michigan actually receives MORE rain than Seattle, certainly in inches and accumulation b/c the rain in Seattle resembles a mist, where W Michigan is often a downpour.


So I'm en route to my childhood home in Seattle. And they've had more rainfall then in 15 years my own very Mom reports. And it's the type of significant soaking such that areas are at risk for flooding and other damage.

Hmmm, somehow, when I cry out for God to send rain this is not the image that I've pictured.
Still, I'm longing for deep, saturating renewal and revival personally, for our churches, for our nation, and for our world. So I'll persist in calling out: "Send your rain..."

mercy and grace

In what feels like eons ago, I was deeply and profoundly influenced in the area of prayer ministry by a seemingly haphazard path. The journey intensified when I started serving my church as director of small groups and prayer ministry but had no real job description. (Perhaps that seems ideal, but it is rather challenging, too, in creating something.) A "random" flyer landed in the mail box at my then church, advertising a prayer conference. Upon receiving approval from my pastor (and supervisor), I registered, booked the flight and went.

That conference lands in the category of significant life events. My faith and understanding of prayer became provoked and encouraged by the ideas of speakers and facilitators. My hunger for God and belief in His power also grew. I'm eternally grateful.

I returned to that church in previous years for other prayer conferences. I encouraged others to experience a similar journey. The church, worship leader, and pastor developed as role models in my life and ministry experiences.

Three years ago, I visited that church for the last time (only b/c I haven't had opportunity to return), and also met with the senior pastor. He had written a book on small group ministry which I had devoured and a few of us were given time in his busy schedule to meet in his office, pick his brain and chat. He was down to earth and friendly, shorter than I expected, but very hospitable, full of energy and charisma. We took pictures and the memory is etched in my mind.

Perhaps you can guess that the pastor is Ted Haggard. News of his "scandal" devastated my spirit. I am sad.

But I also am compelled to cry for mercy. Part of me laments the devastation of a "fallen" Christian role model. Part of me laments that we place persons on such pedestals in the first place. Part of me fears the impact on young believers or the sometimes vicious skeptics.

But mostly, I wonder, how do we live in the mercy and grace of God? David, a man after God's own heart, seriously deviated from obedience to His God. I certainly grieve God and the Holy Spirit daily. How do we overcome the enemy and still confront sin in our lives? What should our posture be?

I'm at the place of knowing only a few things, that you oh God are strong and that you oh God are loving. I pray that Ted, his family, their church, and all of us, find our rest and strength in a merciful, gracious God.

messenger

My work is loving the world.
Here the sunflowers, there the hummingbird--
equal seekers of sweetness.

Here the quickening yeast; there the blue plums.
Here the clam deep in the speckled sand.

Are my boots old? Is my coat torn?
Am I no longer young and still not half-perfect? Let me
keep my mind on what matters,
which is my work,

which is mostly standing still and learning to be
astonished.
The phoebe, the delphinium.


The sheep in the pasture, and the pasture.
Which is mostly rejoicing, since all the ingredients are here,

which is gratitude, to be given a mind and a heart
and these body-clothes,
a mouth with which to give shouts of joy
to the moth and the wren, to the sleep dug-up clam,
telling them all, over and over, how it is
that we live forever.

-Mary Oliver in Thirst

return s l o w l y

These words hang on a pole along the driveway of a retreat center in Three Rivers, Michigan. A final reminder begging notice as you depart a retreat experience to reenter the regular rhythms and routines of life.

It's curious how participating in a retreat demands an information and activity detox. Somewhat like vacation, perhaps, the diversity of activity allows one to let go of some work worries and responsibilities. But even on vacation, there's a process, an excavation, if you will, to release and suspend normal cares to engage in something different and new. It's a transformation of mind, perhaps enhanced by a transformation or relocation of body.

And so, too, a retreat, an excursion somewhere else, presents an opportunity to displace and surrender the cares of work and life, to withdraw; pull back or move away. And although it takes time to deprogram as you retreat, the expectation of reentry seems somewhat merciless. Hopefully the beauty, insight, and refreshment of the retreat dwells much deeper within one's soul and spirit to anchor and protect in intersections with life's harsher realities. Perhaps it's living out "thy word i will hide in my heart that I may not [grieve] thee."

In any case, other tasks and activities clamor for attention. And so the retreat ends. May God's mercy and grace sustain us all.

pix credit: Hildred, Ocean Shores 0803