Emerging to a New Life

Beginnings and endings surround us on December 31. It's what we do, this year in review scrolling past anywhere we look.

Some send the old year out with glitter, bubbles and flashing lights. It's all about the flash, even if for a day. 

For others, it's more about the flashback, the reminder that things are not as we had expected. Forget the fireworks or watching the ball drop in Times Square. For some, each day is a painful reminder of how we've dropped the ball in our responsibilities, our relationships. 

We yearn for new beginnings.

We want to believe change is possible. 

Remember the movie, "It's a Wonderful Life?" We know how the story ends, yet millions tune in each year to see George Bailey's transformation. George's character debuted in 1946, nearly 70 years ago. How refreshing that popular culture still allows space to air the movie and call it relevant. But I suspect that clock is ticking on old George. What film is waiting in the wings to take its place and pick up the story for new generations?

 Strange, isn't it? Each man's life touches so many other lives. When he isn't around he leaves an awful hole, doesn't he?                  

          ~ Clarence to George Bailey in "It's a Wonderful Life"

My mother says it slightly differently when asked about her life:

"I wouldn't change a thing. Because if you change one thing, you change everything."

So true.

Bidding farewell to a year sinking into history reminds me that I did not pen or type much upon these pages in Meditations in the Night Watch lately. I may make time to do more next year. I surely hope so, because doing so gives me the chance to explore and think and write from a place that needs exercising in my life. My soul needs exercising more than triceps or abs or anything else that fills the pages I am seeing in media  touting the importance of self-improvement in the new year.

Lists abound telling us the Best of 2014. More lists offer resolutions and solutions for 2015. One year is not done before the new one is already skewered and readied for improvement. Beginnings and endings keep turning around on the spit.

Beginnings and endings.....Birth and death. Whether we are ready or not, they keep coming.

I continue to be wonderstruck by the similarities shared by these seemingly-opposite life events. Perhaps human birth and death do not occupy opposing ends of a linear continuum as we often think. Perhaps that line arcs, bending gently into a circle of life. 

I think so.

2014 has brought the birth of precious ones in my life and has delivered many loved ones into 'the land of no more tears', as I read one brave dying woman call the end of life. It has been a great year, and I am grateful to have lived another one surrounded by family and friends. Most of all I am grateful for the Presence of God who loves with an everlasting love and holds fast the faithfulness we offer imperfectly. Thank you, Lord Jesus, for saving grace and abundant mercy you extend. 

In a world of changing times and rolling calendars, how good it is to count on the steadfastness of the love of God. Such an assurance gives confidence as we face a new day of life and death and life beyond death.

If your body is no longer serving you well, step out of it and go on with life.
~ Barbara Brown Taylor

Go on with life--Abundant Life.

January Days: New Beginnings in 2013

"To be loved but not known is comforting but superficial. 

To be known and not loved is our greatest fear. 

But to be fully known and truly loved is, well, a lot like being loved by God.

It is what we need more than anything. 
 

It liberates us from pretense; humbles us out of our self-righteousness, and fortifies us for any difficulty life can throw at us."

~ Tim Keller

[emphasis mine]

And so I'm thinking.....

Liberation:

Freedom from posturing and pretending.

Always comes at a price.

 Humility:

Cannot occupy the same space alongside pride.

Pride consumes all the air.

Something's gotta give.

To be known and loved as we are--not as someone else wishes we were--is a rare experience in our world.

 

That kind of love fortifies us for the task at hand, for the tasks of a lifetime. We dare to do great things because we are not afraid.

We are not afraid of failure. We are not afraid of losing the love we once thought we had to earn. Because, we reason, if we had to earn it, we could also forfeit it in one fell, disapproving swoop.  

Fear of failure holds us hostage no more; it holds no power to control or to manipulate.

And we dare to do small things with great love, as Mother Teresa suggested, which is no less bold than attempting greatness from the outset.

Love always liberates, never enslaves.
 
We need that kind of fortifying power, that kind of strengthening of our souls when life threatens to destroy that which we thought would stand firm. For some, that means we witness the deterioration of marriages, homes, relationships, health. A picture of glacial calving comes to mind with its constantly changing state of an icy coastline. Calving may occur bit by bit or in tumultuous crashing, but few are spared the changing shape of things to come in this world.

We make life plans. 

Think things are settled for a season. 

But when one thing changes, as my mother says, it changes everything. Life unravels around the edges first because that's where it's most vulnerable. Unbound cloth, as it were.

We come to find that confidence placed in anything other than the love and grace of God will not always endure. But a life of faith bound up in this powerful love and held together in grateful communion with the God who will never let us go and does not leave us alone does not merely endure--thank you, Jesus and Mr. Faulkner--it prevails.

Thanks be to God. 

 

  

  

New Dreams--Maybe Better Dreams--in 2012

I do love folk music, and this is a simple favorite (shared here in a sample by James Taylor and Joni Mitchell):

Yesterday, a child came out to wonder
Caught a dragonfly inside a jar
Fearful when the sky was full of thunder
And tearful at the falling of a star

And the seasons they go ’round and ’round
And the painted ponies go up and down
We’re captive on the carousel of time
We can’t return we can only look behind
From where we came
And go round and round and round
In the circle game

........

So the years spin by and now the boy is twenty
Though his dreams have lost some grandeur coming true
There’ll be new dreams, maybe better dreams and plenty
Before the last revolving year is through.

And the seasons they go ’round and ’round
And the painted ponies go up and down
We’re captive on the carousel of time
We can’t return, we can only look behind
From where we came
And go round and ’round and ’round
In the circle game
And go ’round and ’round and ’round in the circle game.

Here's to 'new dreams, maybe better dreams and plenty' in 2012!

With all due respect to Joni Mitchell, we are not actually trapped on the carousel of life--thanks be to God. Captive in the temporary circumstances of this life, I'll agree, but not bound by them. And not without hope. And not without a companion.

So when we find ourselves going 'round and 'round and unable to stop and unable to get off, let go of the reins. Take hold of the hand, figuratively, who will never leave us alone. There is, after all, a larger circle than the carousel--one drawn wide enough to enclose within God's loving embrace all those who would respond to the whisper of love and offer of forgiveness.

Who couldn't use a clean slate in a new year? Who would not benefit from a fresh beginning and a deep cleansing breath as we embark on the uncertainty of 2012?

May the God who creates and loves us breathe new dreams, maybe better dreams, into our souls for the coming year.

Circle Game by Joni Mitchell, released 1970.

Be Prepared

New year prompts so far:
Keep in touch.
Learn something new.
Today, be prepared.

That phrase is not the exclusive domain of the Girls Scouts and Boy Scouts, though they do a pretty good job at instilling the value of the motto in many languages around the world. I first learned it as a nine year old camping at Camp Wahi, and - like much of what we know first - it keeps coming back to me. Learning to plan for the expected and unexpected alike is a life skill we need to refresh.

We find ourselves squarely in the winter storm watch across the deep South today, and it is a good time to assess our collective preparedness. Warnings of extensive power outages scroll across the red bar of the TV screen as meteorologists rise to the occasion of their ratings highs. The frustrating experience of bursting water mains in this city during deep freezes has taught us to fill bathtubs with water and to keep frozen jugs of water available for both personal use and to keep cold foods frozen without power. We take inventory of the essentials we have on hand and know how we can meet the needs of family members when our usual means of operating are interrupted. These periodic check ups are a nuisance to some, but are helpful to sharpen our survival skills, lest we become lazy and forget how to live without coffeemakers, hairdryers and microwaves. Perish the thought.

A man visiting from Philadelphia, Pennsylvania today surely found it humorous to observe Mississippians in near-crisis mode as he heard about the imminent ice storm with predictions of 30 degree temps and as much as 1/2 inch ice accumulation. He had to laugh. Grocery shelves had been picked clean of water and staples, as well as the ingredients for snow ice cream (after all, we do not get snow very often, and the kids may not get another chance this year.) Then it occurred to me that beyond weather, a crisis is relative.

What may topple my equilibrium and send me tumbling may not even be enough to tip the balance of your harmonious life. One's orange alert crisis state can be merely another's routine way of relating to life - of living with low-grade crises so much that it is the norm. The sharp edges wear down with repeated exposure and pain becomes tolerable. They do not even recognize signs of a heightened alert situation because the numbing effect of its omnipresence has made them blind to the danger embedded in it. I have counseled women who have failed to see the signs of abusive husbands and dangerous family situations because they had so lowered their expectations that they no longer hoped for a changed relationship... until one day when there arises a tipping point that cries out for self preservation.

What is our crisis threshold?

We have no meteorological forecasts giving us a ten day personal outlook or an hour by hour satellite picture of how our lives will unfold. There may be no audible warning alerts sounding on city streets to advise of our approaching disastrous decisions. We must gain our early warning system alerts from other sources - consider wise counsel and prayer - and be prepared to act before and during a crisis.

We do know that storms and trials will come to each of us, so we can be prepared.

• Have essentials on hand. What really matters? What is the spiritual equivalent of food, clothing and shelter to each of us?
  
• Live with a working knowledge of how to cope when life gets challenging; it will.
  
• Know why faith, hope and love endure.
  
• Keep relationships in good repair.
  
• Practice learning to live with contentment irrespective of our circumstances.
  
• It is still a pretty good idea to be cheerful, thrifty, brave, clean and reverent.

Dear God of new beginnings and Ancient of Days, instruct us in the way of wisdom as we begin another year with You. Teach us what is essential in the faith we share. Give us understanding, and calm our anxious hearts as we follow You. Inspire us to be prepared as we grow in faith and give an account of the faith that is within us as You strengthen us. May we trade lives of quiet desperation for Your peace that abides and dwells richly within us. We pray in the name of the risen Christ, Amen.

Learn Something New

When does an apron become cool? Try 2011.

I put away some Christmas things this morning and discovered in the back of a drawer several gingham aprons made by my aunt Mabel. These are old fashioned June Cleaver pleated aprons that tie at the waist with hand stitching in little patterns on each. Those pink checks peeked out from the drawer and reminded me of a time not so long ago, when women wore aprons in the kitchen and cooked at home. In recent decades for many, that has been merely a quaint image....an anachronism in the modern day of past-paced living and technology-driven lifestyles. But I feel a bit of connection to my forebears when I don a good apron and get in the kitchen to cook.

Just last night I listened on the way home from work as the public radio program's guests - hip young north easterners - touted the new value of 'reclaiming domestic competencies.' They used this phrase and others like it frequently, describing what it meant to a (I suspect) domestically illiterate audience. Growing your own food - even in pots or window boxes in the city, knowing how to cook healthy meals at home, discovering how to care well for one's self and others, living responsibly to manage natural resources and leave little waste in our wake are discussed in 2011 as though this is new discovery. They sounded a clarion call to a generation to 'wake up' and live well.

Sustainable agriculture and responsible lifestyle choices figure largely into the scheme of a new generation's mantra they called domestic skills. Seems like everything old is new again. Pepper a conversation with organic, reclaimed, and sustainable, and you're golden.

Serving farm fresh local produce is hailed on menus in swanky eateries.

Eating live grains (dating from Biblical times) is celebrated for health's sake, while buying highly-preserved, transfat-impregnated, artificially flavored food was last decade's triumph of convenience. (Note: Try Ezekiel cereal mixed with two parts Vanilla Almond Bare Naked granola - 1/4 cup total - for Doc's power breakfast for health, convenience and protein staying power.)

Swelling lists of courses and blogs are devoted to teaching a new generation how to farm organically, sew clothing for the family, eat fresh and local food, and live in harmony with nature and one another. Many are working to address the fact Americans really do not make anything anymore; we merely consume at an astounding rate. And we know how to do very little independently.

So, tell me...why did they do away with home economics?

I remember it well. Back in the day, junior high and high school girls took home economics and the boys took shop (or agriculture preparedness and maintenance courses) as electives. We made an apron, sewed our kettle cloth shift, studied cooking fundamentals and learned budgeting. The guys built a bookcase and picnic table and tackled welding among the life skills. My friend, Betty, said today that she took shop for a semester, and one benefit was that it demystified the unknown: "When you know how to use a hammer or saw, you are not intimidated by one."

Designed to equip them/us to face a future as a farmer or homemaker, this model remained entrenched until the social and political discord of the 60's and 70's caused tremors cracking fault lines in curricula across even the rural South. I was caught in the crack, so to speak, with one foot in two worlds.

Graduating from high school in '73 as the Betty Crocker Homemaker of Tomorrow (yes, there was such a thing), I spanned a changing landscape in that decade to begin practicing law in 1979. Most all of the women law students I spent the next few years with eschewed anything having to do with homemaking or confining women to traditional roles. We were trail blazers - fighters all - for the greater good of womankind! Power to the people, doncha know. I knew how to fall right in step, keeping my association with Betty Crocker well hidden.

Last month, by sharp contrast, I read the law school newspaper where a talented orator and award-winning competitor and law student wrote her Baking for Barristers column about chocolate chip pumpkin muffins. I stopped in my tracks, slack-jawed and mouth agape, as my father in law says. That would never have happened in the seventies. We were too defensive for our own good in the collective quest for more options for women. But this is now, when over half the nation's law and medical students are women. So maybe they are not as hypersensitive as their less numerous counterparts were decades ago; they exercise their options.

Time and life have a way of either mellowing us or hardening us. Our response makes the difference. I want to mellow gracefully.

Learn a new skill. Identify a domestic deficiency and do something about it. The internet is replete with advice for domestic divas who are discovering this concept for the first time, because they never had it in school and alarmingly few have had it modeled at home.

There is immense value - for both men and women - in having the skills to manage and maintain one's home and personal finances, to create a place of warmth and hospitality for family, and to provide healthy eating patterns and relationships. They are calling this new, essential body of knowledge domestic competencies, and they are saying we had better learn some soon, or no one will remember how it is done.

Where is Betty Crocker when we need her?


Note: Kudos to my friends, Vicki Daughdrill and Martha McIntosh - widely accomplished and fun women who have parlayed their college major of home economics into careers of world travel and textile promotion, and newspaper and book writing and publishing, in addition to being excellent cooks and having wonderful families. Who knew you would be so cutting edge this year?

Thoughts for Living into the New Year

The following sequence of notes or posts is entered as they come to mind - and in no particular order - to lodge in memory some thoughts or practices I want to emphasize in the coming year.

The first note of the new year is: Keep in Touch.

This old French post card with its charming handwriting and lovely old stamps visually reminds me of the importance of correspondence. In 2011, few of us take the time actually to write letters. Texts are good for a quick answer but have no staying power. You cannot linger over a box of old texts, unwrapping each one carefully, to read your mother's letters or remember your grandfather's handwriting, or re-read old letters from Camp. Yes, I have saved them. They may be clutter to someone, but they are my clutter.

So in the year to come, I resolve to become reacquainted with the practice of writing letters more often. Handwritten words show intentionality and communicate a gift of time to the recipient. Little children spell love T...I...M...E. And our time is a precious thing indeed. So is expressing appreciation.

I want to be more loving and to cultivate gratitude. I want to learn to love as God loves - a steep climb from where I am today, but a worthwhile goal on this journey. I find inspiration for this bold desire in many places, but here is another, from I John 3:18:

Dear children, let us not love merely in words or talk, but in deeds and truth.

So, keep in touch. Write it down. Take the time to express appreciation. And be a channel of blessing in doing so.