Ch-Ch-Ch-Changes

“I’m very flexible; I just don’t like change,” my father in law says frequently through smiling eyes. 


David Bowie sang about it in 1971 with “Changes”:

“Lookout you rock n rollers,

Pretty soon you’re gonna get a little older.

Time may change me, but I can’t trace time.”

Embracing change is a tall task for many of us. 

The artistry of God paints October blue skies arching over a world both abounding in autumn beauty and moving headlong into winter. Shadows lengthen. The sun moves into the southern sky. Harvest festivals morph into winter landscapes. Signs of change are all around.

Seasons of life move through predictable patterns as well, try as we may to hold them at bay.

Living in the shadow of loss is a change that comes to us all.

For some, the sadness over what is overshadows the gratitude of what was. 

Reclaiming gratitude offers a solace all its own, one worth cultivating if we are out of practice. 

How to build in time for gratitude, some ask, when their days are frantic and fleeting? 

Busyness can keep us in turbulence tricking us into being victims in an out-of-control life, while others long for something to keep them busy and engaged with life.
 It may depend as much as one’s attitude as one’s season of life.

 I remember the obviously pregnant young woman who shopped in our store late one November afternoon.
Betty greeted her warmly, "I know we're not supposed to do this, but -- when?"

"Tomorrow!" The cute mom-to-be in the purple sweater practically exhaled the word.

Her Christmas shopping days were over. She had finished her list. Now the hard work begins. Her anxiety was palpable.

When young moms ask, “Will my life ever get back to normal?" I answer encouragingly, "Yes. But normal is different now."

Nothing stays the same. 

Life is dynamic, always changing. We learn to adapt, if we are wise, rather than to cling to what was.
Sometimes we think we are overloaded and stressed during a season of life, only to discover later that we had not yet begun to know overload. That stress, however, was all we could handle at the time.

Then we learn that we can do hard things. 

We grow the way most living things do: by stretching. We must stretch for each season of life brings its own challenges. How do we prepare for them?

1. Seek wise counsel. Read. This includes learning from those who have gone before. We need not reinvent the wheel. Yet some part of us still utters that toddler’s cry, “I can do it all by myself.”

2. Pray. This reminds me of the instruction on every shampoo bottle I have held since the ‘60s: shampoo, lather, rinse, repeat. One would think that we'd get it by now. 

The call to prayer is always present. You might think that we'd get it by now, too. Yet, rather than as a first line of defense and a forward strike against a threat, prayer often becomes our last resort.

So in any season of life when we think we cannot tackle another challenge, we need to know we are capable of greater things. We just cannot do it all alone. And we never have to. The promise of God's word is that God will never leave us nor forsake us. 

Each of us faces certain change in an uncertain future but we do not do it alone.

Isaiah 41:10
So do not fear, for I am with you; do not be dismayed, for I am your God. I will strengthen you and help you; I will uphold you with my righteous right hand.

Hebrews 13:5-6
For He Himself has said, "I will never leave you nor forsake you." So we may boldly say: "The LORD is my helper; I will not fear. What can man do to me?

A Surprising Stop on the A Train

I'm so glad I live in a world where there are Octobers.

~L.M. Montgomery, Anne of Green Gables

This beautiful October Saturday's harvest festival featured pie contests, cake walks, live music, scarecrow decorating, children's activities and fun for all. Ahhhh, I do love a good fall festival, and this was one of the best.

Two things were surprising here: These photos were taken at the last stop of the A Train north of NYC just outside The Cloisters--hardly the location of a Deep South State Fair or a church carnival.

Secondly, the food was all complimentary.  Abundant, beautiful, carefully prepared and presented food--free for all. Homemade cinnamon sugar donuts.  Cookies of every kind. Brownies. Apple cider. The welcome sign meant just that. We knew no one there, and we were still welcome.

Just a delightful scene to come upon when I least expected it. We were on the way to somewhere else when we encountered the merriment. It beckoned us in.

I left wondering if our churches could be a little more inviting to those who venture near. 

Do we send the clear message that all are welcome, no matter who they are? 

Do we share with others as abundantly as we have received from our Heavenly Father's bounty--extending forgiveness without price, offering our best we can prepare in our relationships, not waiting to see what we can exchange in return?

That's the simple beauty of a fall festival: it's all about a community's celebrating the yield of the kitchen or the crops and enjoying October blue skies at their best. A wonderful precursor to Thanksgiving, October festivals serve as our warm up act for a season of giving thanks. Just to get the juices flowing, if you will. 

Thanksgiving is not merely a holiday; it is a way of life. Let us live as those who are willing to welcome others as we share what we have, especially in the life of faith.

Morning Has Broken, Like the First Morning...

I will praise you every day; yes, I will praise you forever. Psalm 145:2

Each day offers a new beginning, a chance for living ever more fully into our true selves, by God's grace. Each day presents the opportunity for experiencing the presence of God in a fresh way.

Will we notice it?

Praise the LORD! Oh give thanks to the LORD, for he is good, for his steadfast love endures forever! Psalm 106:1

Grace Enough to Bear All Things

"It is a good thing to be without a trouble; but it is a better thing to have a trouble, and know how to get grace enough to bear it.”

~Charles Haddon Spurgeon, widely esteemed English theologian (1835 - 1892)

 Spurgeon frequently preached to audiences numbering over 10,000 in Exeter Hall and Surry Music Hall before moving to the permanent site at Metropolitan Tabernacle.


10,000 gathered to hear the Word of God preached? With no microphones, no jumbo-trons?

Just a man and his message.

Would we do that today? Are we that hungry for hearing about salvation, for understanding more about the Spirit God sends to us? That many and more gather for a sporting event, but for a church service? I don't think so.

Let us hunger and thirst for food that satisfies--for the grace God gives to bear one another's burdens and to bear our own with courage.

So it is all for your sakes, that as grace extends to more and more people, it may extend thanksgiving to the glory of God (2 Cor 4:15).

From John Wesley's Notes on 2 Corinthians 4:15:

4:15 For all things, whether adverse or prosperous, are for your sakes - for the profit of all that believe, as well as all that preach. That the overflowing grace - which continues you alive both in soul and body, might abound yet more through the thanksgiving of many - For thanksgiving invites more abundant grace.

Wesley lived one hundred years earlier (1703 - 1791) also in England preaching in open-air venues in both his home country and as a missionary to our part of the world. Each of these proclaimed that the way of wisdom is to receive all that we have with thanksgiving, as gratitude invites grace enough to bear all things.

In 2011, Ann Voskamp announces a similar message in One Thousand Gifts a new venue through today's power of instant communications and the printed word.

Believers keep telling the story generation after generation: they keep giving thanks for God's unfathomable grace.


Sculpture of St. Francis on the coastline of Sardegna, photo taken 2011.

What Make Us Happy?

Life's interruptions give us the opportunity to press the reset button. We can draw courage and inspiration from others who experience setbacks and refuse to let it destroy their spirits.

Today's night musing is a treat from a young friend who has just returned from Johns Hopkins after summer brain surgery with a very good prognosis and an inspiring outlook beautifully expressed in her words below. With her permission, I'm delighted to share her words with you. She was pursuing her doctorate in English when her plans were interrupted. I'm thinking there is some writing in her future still!

I love the way she puts it! We may say we believe that we don't find happiness in our external circumstances, but we reveal our true selves when we keep living frantic lives desperately seeking after an elusive happiness somewhere else. I hope her words lift your spirits too! Have a beautiful day!

~Marita

Another Midnight Ramble

So many people on the highway just go too fast.

And so many people also speed through life too fast. Or at least that is true of me.

Having brain surgery certainly forced me to slow down and live more in the moment.

I’m still a very active and motivated person. That has not changed. I even started a new job this past Monday! Simon and I are having so much fun caring for and playing with another little boy a little younger than Simon. They are becoming good friends already.

When I was strolling these sweet boys around the neighborhood the other day, I ignored the heat and humidity and thought about times in my life when I have spent so much time racing around, being too busy, thinking about the next item to check off my to-do list, and I have not stopped to be in the moment or really think about whether my actions were making me happy.

You see, I had a bad habit.

I would tell myself lies.

I will be happy when I buy this outfit.

I will be happy when I graduate from college.

I will be happy when I get married.

I will be happy when I have a baby.

I will be happy when I find my ideal job.

I will be happy when I make a certain amount of money.

And I found myself doing it this summer, too.

I will be happy when the brain tumor is out.

I will be happy when I am finally home.

Hmm, not cured.

There is a problem with this kind of thinking. If happiness is entirely based on the exterior circumstances of my life, then I probably won’t find lasting happiness.

Now, I should say that my life keeps getting better the older I get (Turning 30 next month suddenly doesn't seem quite so scary after my recent experiences). I am so happy as a wife and as a mother. But my lasting happiness shouldn’t depend entirely on two people. And what a hard burden to place on those two people I love so dearly!

So I started to think about some things that make me happy in the moment. Here’s what I came up with off the top of my head:

Being helpful to others

Breathing the salty air at the beach

Feeling the sea breeze on my face

Swimming laps at the pool

Sipping iced tea on a screen porch

Picking apples at an orchard

Cuddling under warm quilts with my husband and son

Walking around neighborhoods full of historic homes

Getting absorbed in a novel

Reading stories to enthusiastic children

Eating chocolate chip cookies fresh out of the oven with cold milk

Going on dates with my husband

Talking around a campfire

Waking up in a tent to the sound of birds

Listening to Simon laugh

Visiting new places and trying new things

Wearing clean pajamas

Eating lazy pancake breakfasts

Watermelon

Taking hot showers

Washing dishes after a dinner party with friends

Browsing used bookstores and libraries

Finding treasures at yard sales or consignment sales

Drinking hot tea

Holding human babies (and animal babies)

Visiting farms

Singing anything from hymns to silly songs

Being a passenger on a country drive

Pulling on warm socks in winter

Riding on trains

Contemplating Italian Renaissance paintings

Experiencing new children’s museums, zoos, and aquariums (and old favorites)

Opening a new box of crayons

Listening to Simon talk

Camping in the mountains

Putting words on paper

Making plans

Wandering farmer’s markets and natural grocery stores

Watching Simon play with wooden toys that will last for his children

Receiving letters in the mail

Being awake in the early morning before anyone else is up

Decorating real Christmas trees

Carving pumpkins

Cooking for my family

Sewing practical things made from beautiful fabric

Listening to street musicians

Capturing my family's life on film

Eating picnics by the water

Lying on a blanket, looking up at the trees

Drinking fresh orange juice

Many of these are very accessible joys, but sometimes I am moving so fast that I forget to be in the moment and truly appreciate them.

This past week has been a bit stressful. We received the extraordinary gift of movers to help us move to help minimize our stress. And yet, lots of various things have gone awry. The moving van didn’t fit all of our belongings. The moving van wouldn’t go into our driveway. The renters didn’t leave our house in pristine condition. The air conditioning needed multiple repairs. The bookshelf wouldn’t go where I wanted it to. We couldn’t find our modem. The foundation still needs repairs. We have multiple stacks of bills that need to be paid and letters that need to be answered, and I don’t know where all the stacks are anymore. There are boxes everywhere. I still owe a lot of people thank-you notes, and I am not even sure that my list is complete. I am not sure that I know where my stamps are. My old computer with lots of important files on it didn’t survive the move. The windshield on my car is cracked, and the rearview mirror fell off. There is a mouse living in the wall.

I could go on.

But I won’t.

My physical and emotional endurance are still slightly lower than my pre-surgery self, although they are greatly improving every day. I have had so many insights about my life these past months, but that doesn’t mean that I always act on them. I am a normal person. Sometimes stressful things are overwhelming to me, even when I put them in the perspective of having had brain surgery several weeks ago.

Every once in a while, I just feel tired, and I want to crawl into a hole.

Most of the time, I keep calm and carry on.

It is true that I do feel so much happier now that we are finally home and I am able to be increasingly independent and active. I am happy to be working and spending time with Simon and settling in and reconnecting with lots of people.

That’s not the point, though. The point is that I need to savor each day, regardless of what that day brings. I need to live more in each moment.

Even on the day of my brain surgery, there were joys to be savored. Laughing along with an incredibly kind and funny nurse who put all the nervous patients in the pre-op room at ease. Waking up and being able to see. Soothing my throat with a popsicle.

That is one of the great wonders of spending time with very young children, watching them experiencing joy in the present moment, without much thought for the past or the future.

For the record, I have experienced at least 19 of the joys on my list already this week, and it is only Wednesday. I must be doing something right!

In the meantime, I have stayed up way past my bedtime, and none of this makes any logical sense in my head anymore. We had a very productive evening after Simon went to bed, and now the majority of the rooms in our house are liveable, organized, and lovely. So now it is time to sleep.

(Photo a delightful sight of mine: farmland in the Amish country of Pennsylvania)

Take Note of Simple Joys

Spring rain falls gently on the roof. Songbirds fill the early morning punctuating the just-light sky with new sounds.

An attic fan whirs overhead, drawing cool, almost-mountain air in through the windows as they appear to swell and relax with each fresh breath.

Three of my favorite things in one morning! I'm counting my blessings.

4. Hot coffee in a large mug.

5 and 6. Warming cinnamon chip scones from my sister-in-law, Nancy, who always knows how to provide for her guests in the mostly generous and loving ways.

7. A day off for a change of pace. or Pace.

8. A day with my daughter before her summer job in N.C.

This way of viewing life -- of noticing gratitude in the small things -- doesn't require numerals and lists, but it can help us as we pause and take notice.

Noticing and giving thanks -- that is the key. Else it slips by unremarked, and we move through our days oblivious of the many gifts we have.

Take note today.

And give thanks.

I enjoyed Ann Voskamp's book One Thousand Gifts last week. Perhaps you will too. See her thoughts written daily at her beautiful site http://www.aholyexperience.com/.

Heart and Soul

The first piano duet I learned is one I never tire of hearing. "Heart and Soul" by Hoagy Carmichael makes me smile anytime I hear a novice pecking out the familiar tune and delights me when a real pianist plays an improvisation on that simple theme. This song is part of my childhood memory bank. The title teases out a little theology as well. What are we? Heart or Soul? How do we satisfy the many longings of our hearts?

In an ongoing quest for living contentedly - not to be confused with living complacently or with mediocrity - we learn to live with gratitude and with open hands, not clinched fists. We learn to focus not on what we lack, but on what we have. The key word here is focus. We train the eyes of our soul to look upon our blessings, rather to fix our gaze upon any deficiency we could enumerate. Such is not easy in contemporary American culture where entitlement colors our desires, and expectations expand with the national debt. When we feed on the word of God, we find that God's provision is more than enough. God's Spirit nourishes us in ways we cannot do for ourselves. Sometimes the blessings come through others on the journey.

My friend affectionately known as Mother Jenn has provided food for thought on many occasions. Her family is reading through a meaningful series of books that has captured and fed the hearts and souls of countless children of all ages. Here is a morsel which addresses who we are at our core:

Quoting Aslan, the wise character C.S. Lewis brings to life in The Chronicles of Narnia series, we read:

"You come of the Lord Adam and the Lady Eve," said Aslan. "And that is both honor enough to erect the head of the poorest beggar, and shame enough to bow the shoulders of the greatest emperor on earth. Be content."
(Prince Caspian, C.S. Lewis)

C.S. Lewis further underscores who we are at the center of our being in Mere Christianity:

"You don't have a soul. You are a Soul. You have a body."

The One who created us body, mind and spirit loves us heart and soul. Let those words remind us who we are, even as they remind us to live contentedly.

Language of the Heart

For each new morning with its light,
For rest and shelter of the night,
For health and food,
For love and friends,
For everything Thy goodness sends.

- Ralph Waldo Emerson (1803-1882)

Prayers of thanksgiving can be whispered words standing alone, or beautifully composed sentences preserved in books of poetry. Our prayers transcend definition by literary genre and known languages of the world's people; they become the language of the heart.

O, that prayer would become our native tongue, that first language we speak before we translate our deepest thoughts into spoken words. When we begin to offer our thanks, praise, confession, cries for help and pleas for others, the words may follow unfettered.

And in those times when words fail, and our prayers seem bound or silenced, know that the Spirit prays for us in a manner unconstrained by the limitations of language.

With all due respect to Emerson, words are overrated. God looks upon the heart and knows - yet still loves - us.

Let the words of my mouth and the meditations of my heart be acceptable in Your name, O Lord, my strength and my redeemer. Psalm 19:14

Shared bounty

Love grows when shared.

It's almost time to cut back roses and remove the dried, stalky remnants of white mop-headed hydrangeas that litter our yard in February. Today's sunshine beckons but I'll not answer the call just yet; I can find much to do indoors. But just seeing the beautiful colors above reminds me that spring is not far away.

Mary Jane Henley, a dear lady and beloved grandmother of Mary Jane Davis Meyer, shared these delicate roses and wire fern from her yard with me in the fall. She also brought the luscious guava - an unusual fruit I had only known in a Barbara Streisand song decades ago - that she uses to make guava jelly. Her graciousness in giving in many ways touches the lives of anyone in her path. It is her roses that I am smelling today, even if only in a photo.

We stop and smell the roses anytime we pay attention to beauty...or we pause and take delight in our blessings...or we choose to look at something with a fresh appreciation for its value. I think it is a wise way to live.

Let us not run slipshod through life, content with hitting the high points as though we are skimming some required reading just before class, expecting we'll have time to get it right later. This is the real thing! This day is its own, never to come again. We KNOW that, but we rarely live its truth.

Except for a precious woman named Sarah. She gets it. Sarah knows the value of a day....of 'each second of my life' as she speaks into her laptop recording her blog note, sarahchidgey.blogspot.com/2011/02/252011.html. Sarah's sense of urgency in appreciating the day that is hers stimulates my own desire to make the most of the time we have.

When Sarah leaves M.D. Anderson hospital tomorrow, she will go 'home' to a home that is not familiar to her. She will move into Bennett and Sam's first floor home because she can no longer climb the stairs to her own. She and her husband, Eric, will begin a new chapter in their sixth month of marriage in a borrowed home with loving friends, Dustin and Elizabeth, who are helping to care for them. She displays great courage and faithfulness in her young life. I stand amazed. This is the body of Christ in action.

So maybe that welcome sunshine outside is calling my name after all on this Sunday afternoon, even if just for a brief walk. It has been icy and dreary and cold for so long. Sarah would walk in it if she could and not think twice. But she can no longer walk.

What am I waiting for? I'm taking my own advice....

Do something to savor this day. And pray for Sarah.

Seeing the Invisible

Lately I have been reflecting on how we see things. How we see ourselves...how we see others...how we see God - all of these figure largely into our outlook on Life.

If we ever find that we are spending a little too much time contemplating ourselves, there is an effective antidote: Do something for someone else. I had several such moments today.

Today our church hosted a Thanksgiving Feast and worship service downtown for those who call the streets of this city home. Men and women of varying ages who are homeless and likely have no family around whose table to gather Thursday, made their way to festively decorated tables. Volunteers had prepared abundant food and served plates to each one individually. Moms, dads, children, grandchildren, college students, retirees, single adults - the host of servers defied categorization.

This event is not a one hit wonder, a tip of the hat to doing a good deed for the homeless that pays some collective guilt dues for proximity to a growing homeless population in this capitol city. Grace Place is the ongoing ministry that provides a place each day for homeless men and women to get a hot meal, shower, get in from the weather, and exposure to new skills and hobbies ranging from rooftop gardening to produce food for meals, to art, music, personal management, and counseling. After another center closed this fall, Grace Place attendance jumped from 30 to 100 overnight, I was told.

One artist-dad member who is an exquisite portrait painter and his five year old son volunteer each Thursday at Grace Place. They paint and do art projects with the guests of Grace Place. One man paints with dots. Painted dots beside painted dots adorn his paper. He calls them 'skittles'. The young boy, at first tentative when accompanying his father in this new venture, has developed his own confidence in connecting with the people. Today little Ren brought a pack of skittles to give the man; A simple gift from a young child said, "I notice you."

One man joked with me to put that plate of food in his friend's drawstring bag so he could eat it later. They laughed that hearty cackle-laugh they must have done many times and pulled out the only contents of the bag: a yellow polytarp with grommets for tying a shelter. That was all he had on his back. A rather haunting sight lingers as I reflect and end the day in my comfortable home.

Another church member/volunteer with distinctive British accent was sitting at the table next to a homeless man (even the way I write that looks as impersonal as it is, doesn't it?). My friend said, "This man has the bearing of one who could be a CEO of a company. Can we not make some connections between him and others and see how to find him some mentors and perhaps help him find a job?" He was not content merely to serve a few plates and go back to work. No discharge of a duty for this man. He was ready to dig a little deeper and help find solutions for challenging problems. All this from a man who has faced the death of his son a few months ago and who now is trying to reach out to others to keep them from dying inside from the painful malady of hopelessness.

Cicero, a poet in residence at Grace Place who is a self-described recovering drug addict, gave a poem he had written as a part of the worship service, "How Can You Say 'No' to This Man?" referring to the love of Jesus.

A choir of voices - homeless all - sang a medley of praise songs and hymns that they had only rehearsed four times. Though they had folders with sheet music, I'll wager that not all could read. But they sang their hearts out, ending with "We Are an Offering." They were.

And at the end, my daughter exited quickly and, before I knew it, was bending beside Cicero seated in his wheelchair, to talk about his poetry and thank him. My heart was strangely warmed.

Food and homemade desserts were abundant. No one was turned away. Refills and seconds continued to bless the hungry and the filled alike.

Some of us will have another Thanksgiving feast on Thursday with warm kitchens and fragrant aromas,traditional dishes, family favorites, and someone who cares enough to make special desserts and prepare your sweet potatoes with marshmallows or cinnamon pecans depending on how you like them. But I met some folks today who will not have that option. No one has the porch light on for them.

Thanks be to God for willing hearts and hands who notice those who are invisible to some people every day among us....who can see through the street dirt, the brokenness, the hard edges sometimes... and who find beneath it embers of life that are not yet extinguished and a shared humanity that needs a second chance. We love and serve the God of second chances.

"I never give up on anyone, because God never gives up on anyone." Rev. Dr. Ross Olivier

And I'm thankful for folks like Sally and Leslie, who may not have eyes in the back of their heads, but the eyes of their hearts are open wide, and they know how to see rightly!