Another Loose Canon

The Theological Implications of Rollercoasters

2010-09-23T12:35:00.003-04:00

We all know the familiar feeling, gut-wrenching or exciting or maybe both: when we get into the little car (or heaven help me, sit on a bench and let our legs dangle!) and get strapped in, waiting for what seems an eternity until there's that lurch and off we go. Up, up, up the hill that looked so manageable when standing in line, but that looks so amazingly huge now... then that suspended moment of EEEK! as we crest the hill... then AAAAAAAAHHHHHHH!!!!! as we go flying down the other side, possibly into a dark tunnel, or around a steep curve. Some hang on for dear life with their eyes closed. Others wave their hands in the air and scream in release, looking around to catch every fast-flying moment. Few of them are longer than five minutes, and nowadays they are so well-engineered that there are few bumps unless they're intended.

Sometimes... sometimes life is like that. :) Sometimes one's walk of faith feels the same way--only it seldom lasts for a puny five minutes. Today, as the last hours of summer wane toward the Autumnal equinox (tonight at 11:09 PM in the Eastern US time zone where I live), I find myself on the brink of changes and pondering the theological implications of living life on a rollercoaster in the fast lane.

This year has been difficult, and not just on me. Much has gone on in many places. We have but to open a newspaper or log on to a news site to see how busy everything has been. Natural disasters, military actions, mine collapses, oil rig explosions... political upheaval at home and abroad, and OH so much fear. It seems everyone with whom I've spoken feels exhausted already, as we lean toward my favourite month of October. We still have three whole months to go--with the ever-busy season of Thanksgiving, Advent, Hanukkah, Islamic New Year, Christmas, Kwanzaa, and the whole end of the calendar year Silvester/Western New Year thing to get to, the time when traditionally few of us have time to breathe, much less sit in holy silence for the good of our spirits. Eeeeek, indeed!

I won't go into the long, gory, sad story of my own summer; I'm just glad it's coming to an end soon. I've come down the big hill, we're well into the steep turn, there's a dark tunnel at the end there but I can see the light coming. Soon the car will come back to the starting point and I can get off this ride, wobbly-legged (literally, for part of my summer has involved an unpleasant leg injury!) and glad to be on solid ground. I know some of you out there probably have had astonishing summers as well, and may well have a busy holiday season coming up on you as I do. So here's a thought or two:

1) Do you LIKE rollercoasters? Then fit some more of them in between now and the end of the calendar year. Adrenaline is good for you sometimes, and we can all use the occasional shaking up. Plus, this sort of thing can be fun when you're in the right frame of mind.

2) Do you NOT like rollercoasters? This is my category... :) I prefer to know things, I'm not good at surprises or heights with long, fast drops, but real life doesn't always work that way. If you don't like them, try to think of it as a moment for faith. *grin* Sit down, strap in, hold on, and try to enjoy the ride... there just might be a message for you somewhere.

3) If (like me) you don't do well with surprises, try not to let that make you crazy. I did, and am a bit annoyed with myself for wasting the effort this summer. I'm going to attempt in future to see the surprises, the rollercoasters, the big drops and the huge rushes, as places where I need to take notice of what's going on with myself spiritually, and see if maybe, just maybe, I can stop screaming long enough to hear the message Spirit has for me. :)

Yes, life will continue to rocket around big curves, steep hills, dark tunnels and the like. But the Lord of Heaven is there in the car with us, holding on to us as we hold on to the supports, letting us know it will eventually be all right. Even the worst situation eventually ends, and healing doesn't have to wait until the car stops in order to begin.

Know that if you've had a rough summer or even a whole rough year, or if several years have ganged up on you and you're about to go flat to the floor because of it, someone somewhere is praying for you. And as for praying for yourself? Do it. Even if the only prayer you have the strength to utter is a soft, sad "Help?" at the end of a difficult day, believe that it is heard. Believe it will be acted upon.

Now step out of that rollercoaster car with me; let's stagger out of here and get a frozen lemonade and a fresh-baked pretzel. :)

Happy Autumn, everyone!

Memories, Memories Friday Five

2010-08-06T16:42:00.003-04:00

Sally writes:

This year Tim and I have planted and nurtured a vegetable garden, and I have just spent the morning preparing vegetables and soups for the freezer, our veggie garden is producing like crazy and it is hard to keep up with, that said it'll be worth it for a little taste of summer in the middle of winter :-). That got me thinking of the things I treasure, memories are often more valuable than possessions. How about you, can you share:

A treasured memory from childhood?
A teenage memory?
A young adult memory?
A memory from this summer?
A memory you hope to have?

Bonus- a song that sums up one of those memories

Ahh, summer and memories... how they seem to go together! My veggie garden isn't doing nearly as well as Sally and Tim's, but I do cherish each struggling little grape tomato and blueberry that managed to make it through the very odd heat we've had this year. :) So let me see...

Childhood memory:

Possibly because my son recently adopted an adorable, mischievous black-and-white kitten to fill the void left by the passing of his beloved Tilly-woo some years ago, I find the first thing that pops to memory is the similarly-marked kitten I had as a very little girl. I had just seen Pinocchio (Disney version, 'when you wish upon a star....') and decided to name the kitten Figaro. I have one photo of him; he is crawling up my father's plaid shirt, while Daddy looks bemused and I stare in fascination, keeping hands in lap so I can hopefully get my chance to hold the wiggling bundle. Figgy didn't stay with us for long, he went to be with another family whose mom did not need to sleep during the day... but he's always been there in my memory, just one thought away.

Teenage Memory:

This is a tough one. I want to focus on positive memories, and my teenage years were... seldom positive. However, recent events in my life do bring forth something all the more precious now because half of the couple is gone and the other half has memory impairment. I met my in-laws long before they became such, while I was still in high school. They did many things for me, taught me things, helped me with problems, gave me a place in their hearts. My father-in-law passed away on Ash Wednesday this past February, but I will always remember how he taught me to once again find my dignity, my sense of self-worth, made me a stronger, better person. His wife aided in that task in many ways; she is alone now, half the time not remembering he is gone, the other half of the time remembering all too well. She is teaching me new lessons now, all unawares: patience, the simple grace of living in the moment, and learning to let go. Important, special memories, those....

Young Adult:

This one is easy. :) I was twenty-six, still clearly a young adult, when my son (who will be 28 this October) was born. He arrived 12 days after my birthday and 8 days before his parents' wedding anniversary. I remember as clearly as if it were yesterday what it felt like to have him move inside of me; when he came out and I held him for the first time, he moved deeper inside of me than he already had been, to take root in my heart. The photographs do not do justice to the absolute moment of gob-smacked adoration that hit me when I looked into his little red face.

This Summer:

Hmmm... we have a couple of weeks to go yet, and what I suspect will be the most memorable time has not quite yet come. I've been asked to be the celebrant at the wedding of two wonderful people who I have come to love dearly, the brother of the one I love and his delightful fiancee. I am looking forward to it with great joy, and expect to remember the event for any number of memory-worthy moments. I love doing weddings, love being privileged to be a part of someone's great moment of hope and joy. So I'll say that the happy memory (so far) from this summer is anticipation, the best sauce, as the wedding draws ever nearer....

Hope to Have:

Someday I hope someone will look at me the way I see him look at her, and will want to be with me as they want to be with each other. Until that day, I will cherish the memories I have and continue to hope.

Bonus Round: A Song....

I'm pretty sure it would be "Memory" from Cats:

Daylight...
I must wait for the sunrise
I must think of a new life
And I musn't give in
When the dawn comes
Tonight will be a memory too
And a new day will begin....

As for us all, may our memories be sweeter as we grow older and wiser!

Sometimes... Things Break...

2010-08-03T10:02:00.003-04:00

Sometimes...

Those things that break are hearts.

Mine is broken at the moment. Hearts are sometimes reasonably resilient things; sometimes they heal. We live in hope. Insert little brave smile here, pick up, keep going, rinse and repeat.

Today...

Today my prayers will be for all those who are suffering because of heartbreak. Whatever the reason, whatever the root cause, it matters not. God knows who you are and what you need; the prayer is there, God is there, somehow it will be all right eventually.

Please pick up and keep going. I will if you will. We'll all get there together.

If you want specific prayers for specific heartbreaks, or just want to let me know you need a prayer, leave me a comment; it doesn't have to be anything more than the word Yes. But even if you don't leave a comment, the prayers are there. Have one. It'll do you a world of good.

Please say one for me too....

Finding God's Mercy

2010-07-26T10:13:00.005-04:00

Those of you who may have been reading this intermittent blog for some time--or are willing to page back through to see what the heck this is all about--may have noticed that one recurring refrain in my spiritual walk is this: "Is this year OVER YET??" At my age especially, one hates to wish away one's days, weeks, months, and years. So I have decided that my focus for the rest of 2010 is to try and alter that refrain to something more positive, by attempting to find in each day something good, uplifting, or even just of shorter duration than it might have been otherwise.

Of course, the Universe being what it is, the very moment I make such a decision there arises a challenge.... *wry smile*

Well, I've been doing it again. Wondering if 2010 is over yet, foolishly believing 2011 will somehow not have its own challenges. This time I believe the universe is not letting me get away with it.

Last Sunday I was awakened by pain. I'm not good with pain, but I'm pretty good at hiding it; not always for the best of reasons, but hey, if you're good at something and there's even the tiniest bit of positive spin to it, go with it. :) Nevertheless, the point of the comment is this: I don't usually let pain get the better of me. But this pain fit all the hallmarks of a heart attack, and for once I decided to listen.

Here's the end of the story first: it wasn't a heart attack. Thank you, Lord, for that! What it was, however, brings its own interesting challenges: it was a return of the stress-related attacks I had a few years ago when my life decided to take WAY too many new directions all at the same time, like puppies pulling toward every quarter of the compass at once. Shortly thereafter--a matter of days--I was gardening and got nowhere NEAR poison ivy, but somehow got it all over myself again. Just like the last two Julys.

Oh yay.... :)

All right, yes, to be honest, fair and just, the crisis was way overdue. I've been living on air and about 4 hours of sleep a night for far too long, and losing important bits of myself in the bargain. Had I been my own counseling client, I'd have known precisely what to say and in exactly what tone of voice--but how often do we give our own selves that interesting grace?

Oh my yes... Ἰατρέ, θεράπευσον σεαυτόν, physician, heal thyself.... a proverb known in Jesus's day, as he quotes it to the crowd in Nazareth in exactly those terms: "And all bare him witness, and wondered at the gracious words which proceeded out of his mouth. And they said, Is not this Joseph's son? And he said unto them, Ye will surely say unto me this proverb, Physician, heal thyself: whatsoever we have heard done in Capernaum, do also here in thy country." (Luke 4:22-23, KJV) We know, as did they, that Jesus meant we should look to our own problems prior to judging those of others--a proverb he would gently push home in another way when suggesting we remove the log from our own eyes before worrying over the speck of dust in the eye of our brother or sister. Oh counselor, look thyself in the face in thy morning mirror and take a dose of thine own medication... :)

Hence the whole idea of trying to do just that, wrapped up in the concept of joy no matter what. So I have to crawl out of bed somewhere between 03:30 and 04:00, hit the road as soon as possible, and drive safely/mindfully to my tentmaker-job? So what! I get to see the lovely full moon riding the skies amid the cloud-ships, where others miss it because they are asleep. And I get to leave before rush-hour traffic becomes horribly bad, which is also a plus. I get to learn afresh that my body's immune system really DOES work, oh boy does it ever, and that all the signals point to upcoming challenges. Joy!

But I also need to heal myself by getting to bed earlier... eating more healthfully and at less odd hours... reclaiming time here and there to do the things that feed my own soul.... And I need to believe and claim that I have as much right to health, rest and joy as anyone else. Not to mention... *gulp* making myself realize that the mercy of God is something that pertains to me just as much as anyone else.

There, I said it. Yes, sports fans, I have come to the understanding that I fell victim to one of the biggest traps that beset people in ministry: a delight and longing and joy in sharing with others the loving mercy of God, and a serious difficulty in applying it to my own self. The reasons don't matter, because they are so different and so people-specific.

Maybe you were told as a child that you were of little worth, took it in and believed it, spent your life so far helping other people because it fed some of the ache in the centre of your own being. Maybe you were abused, belittled, bereft; maybe you grew up in a normal household where helping others was a joyous way of life, and you got so caught up in the process that you forgot to look in the mirror from time to time and thus missed the need in your eyes. Whatever it is/was/continues to be, it doesn't have to have been a bad thing (though it all too often is/was)--it was just a distraction at some level. You went along, kept going, one foot in front of the other, whatever was needful to feed your desire to help, be loved, whatever.

I know I did it, for my own reasons. Some of those reasons I knew about, others I didn't, I just... did it. Gave space to it in my heart. Some of it is there and remains joyful, though I will be working on balance with it from now on. Some of it is there and is clothed in anger, sorrow, loss, grief--and I will be working on balance there, too.

Some of it... Lord help me, some of it is badness done to me or by me that I have forgiven but not released, hurt and dark things I have acknowledged and released but then not completely let go of. Those things will be worked on immediately. With lots of prayer and mercy-searching. With as much honesty as I can muster. Ἰατρέ, θεράπευσον σεαυτόν.

New Year is not the only time to make choices, declare intentions, slip your hand into God's on one side and Destiny on the other. But then again, the calendar New Year is not the only new year season we receive, either. Our ancestors believed the new year came at the dark of the season, when autumn's leaves were burning and that veil was thinnest that separates us from Spirit. So even though Summer has a high hand in charge where I live, I am very aware this week that autumn is coming. The days are already getting shorter; the heat's back will be broken, and the Lord will have many a message for me.

This time... O Lord, this time let me not only listen--but let me hear. Bring on the Mercy and help me to say yes this time.

Things That Make You Go Hmmm...

2010-07-19T11:40:00.002-04:00

Good morning friends,

I have set my comments permissions to moderated status because of an interesting spammage influx of late. For those of you leaving kind, relevant commentary, thank you... for those leaving comments that are inappropriate, and that link me to porn sites, pleasse know I am a priest and don't "do" porn. ;)

Please leave comments IF they are relevant. Please stop with the porn spammage. You have been reported, and you know who you are. :)

In all things love... but love with Moderation. *snicker*

BTW, thanks for all the good thoughts. The Cardiac Incident this past weekend turned out to not be a heart attack, but we still don't know exactly what it was. Continued prayers are very much appreciated!

Ends of Eras

2010-07-14T07:51:00.002-04:00

What stunning timing.

On the very morning of the annual All-Star Game for baseball's best and brightest, a life came to an end--a bare two days after that of another baseball giant--and both of them affiliated with the same team. The universe has an odd sense of existence, I swear...

Those of you who read this blog are probably reasonably aware that I am not a fan of the New York Yankees. Rather, it is in my blood to consider them The Ultimate Opponent: in my home they are referred to as Those People (much as Robert E. Lee used to call the Federal troops, and for much the same reason: he knew they were human beings, people he was once part of, deserving of the love of God as much as anyone else--but just "not us"... a non-nasty way to refer to persons with a different mission from oneself, if you will!) when they are not being referred to by other far less compassionate names. *wry smile* No doubt my team suffers the same name-calling in homes across the land as well, for few things polarize baseball fans like the Auncient and Especiall Rivalrie Betwixt the Red Sox and the Yankees....

But right now is not the time for partisanship. Death has hit the Bronx in a hard way, so now is the time for compassion and caring.

On July 11, Bob Sheppard--The Voice of Yankee Stadium--passed away at the age of 99. Had he made it to October 20, he would have attained the great old age of 100. His life is a remarkable one for many reasons: his service to his country, his love of his family, his work as a broadcaster and what he considered his most important work: that of Professor of Speech at his alma mater, St. John's University, NYC. But to those of us who love baseball, a team's "voice"--the person who announces the games in their home park, knows the players, the stats, the game--is a special and sacred vocation. When we lose one, especially a classic, courtly one like Bob Sheppard, we lose something much, much more than can be easily described.

Bad enough; a hit to the heart, of that there is no doubt. But then two days later on July 13, early in the morning of All-Star Game Day, death visited the Yankees once more. This time it took "The Boss," George Steinbrenner, who has been the owner of the team since 1973. It was a quick death: a massive heart attack, occurring at his summer home in Tampa, FL just as the day was dawning.

Many will eulogize him in the weeks to come. A man who was both loved and despised is being spoken of in hushed tones, granted (as we all are at such times) graces he may or may not have possessed in life. His positive traits are magnified into super-virtues; his faults kicked under the rug, and realistically speaking, there's nothing wrong with that. He lived a long, controversial, powerful life, and made an undeniable mark on his generation. Like the passing of Tom Yawkey of the Red Sox in July of 1976, Steinbrenner's passing marks one of those occasions where one can truly say we will never see his like again.

Time enough later to tell his story, turn the spade of history through the garden of his life. Right now and for some time to come, I would like to suggest that we simply do this: Say a prayer for the souls of Sheppard and Steinbrenner, pray for God's peace and presence for their families, friends, team and fans as they deal with a monumental double loss, and find it in our hearts to have charity in all things.

At the time of death, we are all equal. All else is details.

Requiescat in pace, Mr. Sheppard, Mr. Steinbrenner. For even at the grave we make our song:

"Good evening... ladies and gentlemen... and welcome... to Yankee Stadium!"

Oh Look, She Lives....

2010-06-03T11:22:00.002-04:00

I am SO sorry to have been gone for so long. :( Life has been interesting; it still is, but I'm starting to come back from the long dark, into the light.

There will be something much more interesting here very soon, I promise. Thanks for all the prayers; they have been appreciated deeply!

Love & blessings,
Sharon

Friday Five: Autumnal Equinox

2008-09-21T19:05:00.002-04:00

Songbird scripsit:

It's that time of year, at least north of the equator. The windows are still open, but the darned furnace comes on early in the morning. My husband went out for a walk after an early supper and came home in full darkness. And yes, where we live, leaves are beginning to turn. As this vivid season begins, tell us five favorite things about fall:

Oh, I love fall. I start waking up when fall hits. :) I wonder if that's true for everyone born in the autumnal part of the year, and if it translates to other times of year too... Let me see now:

1) A fragrance: the smell of pumpkin pie fresh out of the oven. Or pumpkin muffins slathered with butter while still hot. I love pumpkin and always associate it with fall!

2) A color: deep, orange-y brown, the ultimate autumnal colour for me... :)

3) An item of clothing: sweaters. I know I'll need them eventually, but I have always liked cooler-to-cold weather better than warm or hot.

4) An activity: scuffing along through downed leaves. You are just plain NEVER too old to scuff through crackly, crunchy leaves! :)

5) A special day: My son's birth. I have been pregnant many times, but Brian was the only one to survive to birth; he was born on October 13 in a very good year, and he is the light of my life. October is a good month for me. My birthday falls within that month; Brian was born; I was married in that month. A number of people I love also have birthdays and anniversaries in October. October Rocks!! :)

Friday Five Goes Back to School...

2008-09-12T21:27:00.003-04:00

Mother Laura writes:

It's time for a Back-To-School Friday Five!

1. Is anyone going back to school, as a student or teacher, at your house? How's it going so far? No, we're all as graduated as we can handle being for now, though I am considering a distance-learners Masters. Can't handle the money yet, but it's fun to dream! :) Of course the usual learning of life goes on, and there's been a LOT of that lately....

2. Were you glad or sad when back-to-school time came as a kid? Always happy, myself. :) It meant that for several hours a day I was safe and cared about because I was smart and funny. I loved school.

3. Did your family of origin have any rituals to mark this time of year? How about now? My grandparents, some of them, were German--so when we were littlies we got those cornucopia things full of candy and school supplies. And of course going back to school meant it was almost Oktoberfest, so we ate a lot of sausage and kraut as Oma practiced for the amazing feed everyone got each year. :)

4. Favorite memories of back-to-school outfits, lunchboxes, etc? This sounds so silly... but when Rev Sharon was still a size 6x, she had a little sleeveless blouse of white linen with yellow buttons shaped like chicks... and the ruffled peplum on the thing had a printed farmyard scene all the way around of barns, fences, scarecrows, and little chickies--and the chickies were flocked and fuzzy. I wore that thing to RAGS and wish sometimes that I could find a pic of me in it. I think my fave lunch box was a Monkees one, though I was never much of a Davy Jones kinda gal... I always liked Mickey Dolenz best. :)

5. What was your best year of school? I think 6th grade. I had a wonderful teacher, Mrs. Dickerson, who was the first to twig that I was being abused at home--and did what she could to mitigate it. She asked me to come to her apartment, where she did the adjustments on some clothing donated to me by other teachers because my wardrobe was... umm... awful... and while she was pinning. measuring, and taking in seams, she basically helped me understand that what was happening at home wasn't normal. Then she helped me find ways to fix it in a fashion that turned out to be healing for all of us, those at least who wanted to BE healed. I think in the end, she taught me the real meaning of pastoral counseling; I've kind of used that as a model ever since.

Friday Five: Vulnerability

2008-09-05T14:02:00.002-04:00

This week's F5, with prayers and love to GG and her family...

I have recently been reading a book entitled Jesus wept, it is all about vulnerability in leadership. The authors speak of how Jesus shared his earthly frustrations and vulnerabilities with a select group of people. To some he was the charismatic leader and teacher, to others words of wisdom were opened and explained and some frustrations shared, to his "inner circle of friends: Peter, James and John, he was most fully himself, and in all of these things he was open to God. So I bring you this weeks Friday 5:

1. Is vulnerability something that comes easily to you, or are you a private person?
It comes to me fairly easily, but it's harder to share it. I was raised to believe my only purpose in life was to be of service to others, and that others really didn't want to hear when I wasn't "there" and "strong" for them. Fortunately this has changed over the years, but I still find the confessing to be hard.

2.How important is it to keep up a professional persona in work/ ministry?
Well... I'm of two minds here. I think it is important to people in general that their leader be strong, collected, together--speed of the leader, speed of the team, and all that. However. I have also been most profoundly touched in my life during times when people broke a public face to show their deepest heart. The first example that comes to mind (because I have a great deal of respect and affection for him) is Ted Kennedy. I was in grade school when Bobby Kennedy was killed; I have never forgotten listening to the break in his voice, seeing the tears in his eyes, when he eulogized his brother and spoke the words "Love is not an easy feeling to put into words." All the stoicism in the world couldn't overcome the unique shared-grief-ness of that moment. When someone shows their congregation true grief, true pain, true joy, even true anger--I feel more connected. I am comforted by the familiarity of their "usual persona"--but I am touched when they share.

3. Masks, a form of self protection? discuss...
Oh yes, of course they are. But they are also a way of hiding. And from time to time we need them in both of those roles. We could go on for hours and days about when/whether masks are appropriate...

4. Who knows you warts and all?
My sister Jo; a close-knit circle of very beloved friends; my horse. Everyone else probably knows pieces of various sizes. And no, I don't want to list the friends. :) They know who they are.

5. Share a book, a prayer, a piece of music, a poem or a person that touches the deep place in your soul, and calls you to be who you are most authentically.
Oh... not easy. The Rosary in its current form, especially in Latin, speaks to the deep, still places in my soul; there's also a poem about the resurrection that has always touched me very deeply. It is by Jonathan Brooks of Mississippi (1905-1945) and it never, ever fails to make me weep--leaving a sense of joy and peace behind. I get shivers thinking of it now, and happily share it with you all now.

The Resurrection
by Jonathan Brooks

His friends went off and left Him dead
In Joseph's subterranean bed,
Embalmed with myrrh and sweet aloes,
And wrapped in snow-white burial clothes.

Then shrewd men came and set a seal
Upon His grave, lest thieves should steal
His lifeless form away and claim
For Him an undeserving fame.

"There is no use," the soldiers said,
"Of standing sentries by the dead."
Wherefore, they drew their cloaks around
Themselves, and fell upon the ground;
And slept like dead men, all night through,
In the pale moonlight and chilling dew.

A muffled whiff of sudden breath
Ruffled the passive air of Death.

He woke, and raised Himself in bed;
Recalled how He was crucified;
Touched both hands' fingers to His head,
And lightly felt His fresh-healed side.
Then with a deep, triumphant sigh,
He coolly put His grave-clothes by--
Folded the sweet, white winding-sheet,
The toweling, the linen bands,
The napkins, all with careful hands--
And left the borrowed chamber neat.

His steps were like the breaking day:
So soft across the watch He stole,
He did not wake a single soul,
Nor spill one dewdrop by the way.

Now Calvary was loveliness;
Lilies that flowered thereupon
Pulled off the white moon's pallid dress
And put the morning's vesture on.

"Why seek the living among the dead?
He is not here," the angel said.

The early winds took up the words,
And bore them to the lilting birds,
The leafing trees, and everything
That breathed the living breath of spring.

Friday Five: Summer Reading

2008-06-27T17:05:00.003-04:00

Songbird sez:

Back in the day, before I went to seminary, I worked in the Children's Room at the Public Library, and every year we geared up for Summer Reading. Children would come in and record the books read over the summer, and the season included numerous special and celebratory events. As a lifelong book lover and enthusiastic summer reader, I find I still accumulate a pile of books for the summer.

This week, then, a Summer Reading Friday Five.

My responses below:

1) Do you think of summer as a particularly good season for reading? Why or why not?

Surprisingly... under normal circumstances, no. Mind you, I'm unemployed so far this year--but I have had no time for reading. Too much else is going on... but realistically speaking, I haven't thought of summer as "reading time" since I graduated from High School. Winter is when I usually catch up, unless one of my favourite authors puts out a book--or a new volume comes out of a manga I'm reading. :)

2) Have you ever fallen asleep reading on the beach?

Yes. Sunburn is not the friend of people with ancestors from Northern Europe. Oww...

3) Can you recall a favorite childhood book read in the summertime?

Probably something by Tolkien... though I had a habit, even back then, of reading and re-reading favourite books--among them Rumer Godden's China Court. What a luminous piece of work....

4) Do you have a favorite genre for light or relaxing reading?

What is this "relaxing" of which you speak?? :)

If it's light reading, it's Manga. Right now I'm breathlessly awaiting Volume 5 of Le Chevalier D'Eon.

5) What is the next book on your reading list?

Besides the above? Hmmm... probably something in German or Icelandic, as I am trying to learn those languages.

Friday Five: Word Association

2008-06-23T11:16:00.003-04:00

Playing Late, because Other Stuff (tm) happened this weekend...

This post is loosely based on previous "wordy" Friday Fives from Reverend Mother and Songbird. I liked the results, and so we are doing another word association. Theirs were based on words from a lectionary text. Mine comes from the Lovin' Spoonful song, "Summer in the City."

Think summer......are you there? Below you will find five words or phrases. Tell us the first thing you think of on reading each one. Your response might be simply another word, or it might be a sentence, a poem, a memory, a recipe, or a story. You get the idea:

1. rooftop
2. gritty
3. hot town (yeah, I know, it's two words)
4. night
5. dance

Welll.... I'm not quite "at" summer yet, though Lord knows Northern Virginia has been of late. Back toward the tail end of May we began getting summer weather long before normal, and it got... Virginia-ish. Hot humid afternoons; thunderstorms darn' near every day... that heavy, high-temp, icky sort of weather that just wears you right down to a frazzle. All the severe weather warnings had an extra codicil: "because residents of the region have not yet had time to become accustomed to this sort of weather, temperature-related illness is expected..." or words to that effect.

Umm... yeah... *wry smile*

So here's my words:

1) Rooftop: First thing I thought of was a sight that made me smile recently: I was driving home and passed through the nearest large town, quite an old area, where the houses are now a little closer to the road than they were before the highway department stepped in, if you catch my drift. I saw a young woman sitting outside a dormer window on the roof of her home; she had on her bathing suit and sunglasses, and had a laptop in, well, her lap. :) I smiled at the novel concept of catching rays AND catching peace and quiet... then had a flashback to when I was much younger. I was at a church picnic, and took my plate of BBQ out onto the deck to soak up some sun while I ate. Stretched out on a chaise... put the plate in my lap... and ended up with a sunburn over most of my thighs... except for the half-circle on each thigh, from where the plate had been and protected my VERY pale Irish/German skin from the sun. :)

2) Gritty: The way my mucking boots feel when I balance on one foot, putting the other on the ground, when donning said boots... and inevitably sand gets on my sock, then into the boots. Scrunch, scrunch, scrunch... Once a horse steps on you, though, you tend to forget the grit.

3. hot town: Umm... pretty much everywhere lately. And people wonder why Summer is fourth on my list of favourite seasons... ;)

4) Night: Night, in Virginia during the summer, tends at its best to be when the temperature drops, the dew point rises, and I can shut off the AC--until July, that is, at which point it becomes the time when I can turn DOWN the AC. But on average... night is when I can think, dream, and weep without anyone seeing me. It is that space where I meet my Lord face to face without pretense and (for the most part) interruption. I like Night, most of the time...

5) Dance: I don't dance well, and when I do I tend to want to lead--oh, the unlooked-for ramifications of growing up as a Civil War Re-enactor, where I dressed as a boy. :) I was taught to dance from the "male position" and don't seem able to make the shift--but I can still waltz a girl in a hoopskirt with precision and éclat! I can even reverse her so the hoop does that scandalous, daring flip thing occasionally mentioned in well-researched historical romance novels... it's the sort of thing Rhett Butler would have done. *grin* I do like dancing, and wish most of all that I could swing dance--and that I had someone to share that with.

So that's Sharon's brain today, I'm sorry I've been so out of it lately--I'll post my sermon soon.

A Soul Goes Home

2008-06-17T22:32:00.004-04:00

I am Resurrection and I am Life, says the Lord.
Whoever has faith in me shall have life,
even though he die.
And everyone who has life,
and has committed himself to me in faith,
shall not die for ever.

Saturday afternoon, a little before 2 PM, my friend Rick S. stepped out of this life and into the next after a long battle with cancer. When we saw him last at church on the last Sunday in May, he was so tired, so weak… and then the e-mail notes from the Rector began.

As for me, I know that my Redeemer lives
and that at the last he will stand upon the earth.
After my awaking, he will raise me up;
and in my body I shall see God.
I myself shall see, and my eyes behold him
who is my friend and not a stranger.

Rick has been my friend for around eight years. He is a man of wisdom, charm, and a delightfully wry sense of humour. He is a superlative musician with a real sense of how to make a choir a family as much as a functional worship unit. He is from the deep South and it shows… his manners, his wry delivery, his innate kindness. He is a Christian, a deep-faith believer, and he knows by whom he is saved. Now, he has met that saviour in person and been welcomed home.

For none of us has life in himself,
and none becomes his own master when he dies.
For if we have life, we are alive in the Lord,
and if we die, we die in the Lord.
So, then, whether we live or die,
we are the Lord’s possession.

When he told us about his cancer, he was very matter-of-fact. There was no real announcement to the group of us at large; when he ended rehearsal as he always did—with prayer, giving us a moment or two to mention things we felt needed attention—he simply said “I’m starting chemo this week and would appreciate some prayer.” We sat there nodding, yes, yes, that’s what we do when someone undergoes—wait, what, CHEMO?? Frissons of terror, determination, fear… but always a sense that it would get better, that if anyone could beat cancer, it would be Rick. He was a fighter, determined, strong. Right up to the end he was planning a trip to Hawaii.

Happy from now on
are those who die in the Lord!
So it is, says the Spirit,
for they rest from their labors.

For a while it seemed to go away… but when it came back, it came back with a vengeance. Sometimes when you see someone who’s been blindsided by the midnight freight like that, you just know.

I knew. I knew that would be the last time I saw him.

Eternal rest grant unto him, O Lord,
And let light perpetual shine upon him.

If I have any regrets, it is that I didn’t spend more time with him as the days wore down. We weren’t in the same social circle; we only saw each other at church, where he was the organist and I the chorister. But at church… Oh, at church we had our own partnership. I occasionally was privileged to sing solos under his direction. He could play circles around many organists I have known, and if I flubbed a phrase he just played around it. If he wanted to slip in a change, he would look at me and raise his eyebrow and I knew to tell my fellow sopranos, “let’s do the descant!” If he felt he wanted a solo suddenly, he would look at me and just twinkle… and I would go to his side, get the hymnal number, and off we’d go… it was like we shared a brain sometimes.

I will miss that.

Christ is risen from the dead,
trampling down death by death,
and giving life to those in the tomb.

Rick knew how to motivate people. He was kind, and his sense of humour was incisively wry; he didn’t exactly poke fun, he just kind of… prodded. Gently. He could tell a section they had screwed up very badly without making them FEEL badly. He could make them laugh, then play the part correctly, and cause more laughter with the “ahem, see??” expression he would give them. He was our dad and our brother and our uncle all rolled into one drill sergeant, and we adored him. He knew how to get the best out of all of us, particularly my autistic, musically-gifted son. I will always remember watching them work together…

The Sun of Righteousness is gloriously risen, giving light to
those who sat in darkness and in the shadow of death.
The Lord will guide our feet into the way of peace, having
taken away the sin of the world.

The e-mails began early last week: Rick had received communion but hadn’t been able to speak; he had been visited by Hospice to receive a different blessing, that which would deaden the pain and allow him to remain at home until he passed. His partner Shaun was with him, and Shaun’s parents; they did what they could to keep Rick comfortable, those many things big and little that make it possible for us to stay occupied while walking the holy road of departure with someone we love—stay occupied and hold the tears at bay for just a little longer. It wasn’t a matter of whether Rick would leave us, but when.

Christ will open the kingdom of heaven to all who believe in
his Name, saying, Come, O blessed of my Father; inherit the
kingdom prepared for you.

It happened on Saturday: a bright sunny day, full of late spring, turning toward the long heat of summer. Choir was over for the season; we were into Summer Choir, where we would meet on Sunday to “pull something together.” Only when we met on Sunday he was already gone, flown free of his body and dancing with the Lord until we are all reunited in the afterlife. It was a hard morning full of tears and memory, but it was a good morning, too. We pulled it together somehow, because even at the grave we make our song. There is life beyond life, more happens after the transition known as death. We will sorrow—but not as those who have no hope. He is not so much gone as simply not here….

Into paradise may the angels lead you. At your coming may
the martyrs receive you, and bring you into the holy city
Jerusalem.

Welcome home, dear, dear Rick. Keep a light on for the rest of us; we’ll see you in time. Until then we'll miss you so very much....

I Have Decided...

2008-06-12T11:22:00.002-04:00

... that 2008 is way too full of challenges. And most of them have been... horrid.

I am fighting an uphill battle to keep before my eyes the long list of blessings I have been given: a loving son; a return to relative health; a roof over my head despite being still unemployed... that sort of thing. There are also the lists of hopes: good interview recently, stuff of that sort. But I've discovered, much to my chagrin, that I am only human... and that sorrow is beginning to weigh me down.

I feel unloved, unwanted... cast aside by a thirty-year marriage partner, not really much needed in the life of a 26-year-old son... and now a beloved friend seems to not need me any more, either. On top of everything else--someone very dear to me is in the process of checking out of this life.

In the face of a life ending, a holy and fraught time... all my little sorrows seem to be so petty. Needless to say, between the self-recrimination, the depression, the grief and the loneliness--I am decidedly NOT in my happy space.

So I am trying to come out of my Wallow just there on the left as you enter the Slough of Despond, long enough to ask if anyone reading this could please take a moment and do whatever your religion recommends at a time like this: say a prayer, light a candle, ask for good spirits to guide him home... as my dear friend R. prepares for the step out of one life into the next one. Musician, mentor, friend... not nearly old enough to go, and too much of a bright, beautiful light for us to be able to afford his loss, however temporary...

For R., for his partner S., and for all those who love them both... may the parting be swift and painless, the path to peace and Heaven short, and the Way lined with waiting loved ones to welcome him home.

I'll try to be better later. Right now I just need to curl up in a ball somewhere and howl for a while... fortunately I am still coherent enough to remember that the Lord "gets" that, and will never leave me.

Radio Show Tonight!

2008-05-30T15:52:00.001-04:00

Good afternoon all! Just wanted to let you know that tonight on "Another Loose Canon" we have a very special guest calling in. Rev. Corbie of Fire Through Spirit will be joining us for the first of (at least!) two shows, during which she will share her experiences in the realm of healing and how to approach illness from a spiritual perspective. You can see her website (which contains contact info and a list of her upcoming in-person appearances at various conventions and fairs) here: www.firethroughspirit.com

So please join us tonight at 6 PM Eastern US time; Corbie will speak with us about health, healing, and the interesting concept that "Being a Co-Conspirator is Better than Being a Patient!" She's a riveting, charming speaker--with much personal experience with the things of which she speaks. Following the interview, we'll open the phones so people can ask questions and share stories with Corbie.

See you then! The profile URL is: http://www.blogtalkradio.com/Rev_Sharon/ and you will see a link for tonight's show.

Whew, What a Week....

2008-05-03T20:00:00.002-04:00

Wow, what a week.

I got a call the other week from the cardiologist and neurologist who have been monitoring my recent medical difficulties; they asked me to stop driving and come to their office for a discussion "best had face to face" (two mutually exclusive things, since I live in The Sticks (tm) and cannot get anywhere without driving unless it's close enough to walk to...) I tend to assume the worst, being Only Human, so I presumed they were going to tell me they'd found something quite dreadful and needed to operate or whatever. Turned out I had been having "pre-epileptic seizure-like events" something that everyone has about 2 or three times a day. If you suddenly cannot think of a word you wanted to say--you're having one. If you put your keys down in the same place as always and suddenly cannot remember where they are--you're having one. Problem was, I was having them about every half hour all day every day--and they turned up on my ambulatory EEG. The worst turned out to actually be pretty OK: by viewing the events and prescribing to unseat them, the docs were helping prevent me from becoming epileptic and having actual seizures. So that was good!

I had to take a few days off from work to take the meds and get used to them before being allowed to drive again. I was sleepy and had double-vision for a while, then it all evened out. Yay!

However... while I was home recuperating, a friend called from the office to warn me that there was a reduction in force (RIF) coming--and that I would be let go when I returned to the office. So it turned out to be... and after taking a perfectly human tendency to work myself into fits and swivets over it, I did a lot of praying and then went back as soon as the doctor said I could. I did get let go, but I got an excellent severance package and I do have some good interviews lined up already. So it all worked out as well as it could--and I'm sure God has more good changes coming for me. This all has the feel of a Thing Meant to Happen, and I'm more excited than scared. :)

The radio show did indeed debut; there were a number of technical glitches (including dead air for about ten minutes when the site had a server re-set right in the middle of my show!) and no one called in, but by and large it came off well. I want to thank everyone who stuck with it for the whole hour; I'm going to try editing the archived file, so that if you decide to go give it a listen you won't have to hear the dead air. :) I will be doing a show every Friday evening at 6 PM eastern time, hopefully with more music and with LOTS more people calling in. :)

Thank you God for getting me through all this....

Internet Radio Adventures....

2008-05-02T17:07:00.001-04:00

Sorry I haven't posted in a while! Life has been interesting in the sense of the Chinese proverb.... ;) Anyway, just a quick note to let you know that if you're interested, my show on http://www.blogtalkradio.com debuts tonight at 6 PM eastern US time.

I've activated the chat room early in case anyone wants to come by and schmooze. :) If you are a registered member of the site you can log in, then get to the chat room from my profile, which can be reached by adding a forward slash and Rev_Sharon to the URL once you're there. The site is free to register, listen, AND host, so if you think you might be interested, it's an idea! :)

The show is called Another Loose Canon, just like my blog; there will be a link on the profile page. Tonight's topic, after some general spiritual rambling by the host, will be the Efficacy of Prayer; I'll be inviting people to call in and talk about the times prayer has worked for them--and the times it hasn't.

Thanks!
Sharon,
Very Nervous Now (tm)
:)

Borrowed from Singing Owl:

2008-04-08T14:47:00.001-04:00

Your Score: Rabbit

You scored 14 Ego, 15 Anxiety, and 17 Agency!

IT was going to be one of Rabbit's busy days. As soon as he
woke up he felt important, as if everything depended upon him.
It was just the day for Organizing Something, or for Writing a
Notice Signed Rabbit, or for Seeing What Everybody Else Thought
About It. It was a perfect morning for hurrying round to Pooh,
and saying, "Very well, then, I'll tell Piglet," and then going
to Piglet, and saying, "Pooh thinks--but perhaps I'd better see
Owl first." It was a Captainish sort of day, when everybody
said, "Yes, Rabbit " and "No, Rabbit," and waited until he had
told them.

You scored as Rabbit!

ABOUT RABBIT: Rabbit is generally considered Clever by his many friends and relations. He is actually a much better reader and writer than Owl, but he doesn't consider it worth mentioning. Instead, Rabbit's real talent lies in Organizing Plans. He organizes rescue parties, makes schemes to reduce Tigger's bounciness, and goes on missions to find out what Christopher Robin does when he's not at the Hundred Acre Woods. Sometimes, however, his Plans do not always go as Planned.

WHAT THIS SAYS ABOUT YOU: You are smart, practical and you plan ahead. People sometimes think that you don't stress or worry, but this is not the case. You are the kind of person who worries in a practical way. You think a) What are my anxieties about and b)what can be done about them? No useless fretting for you. You don't see the point in sitting around and waiting for things to work out, when you could actually work them out today and save yourself a lot of time and worry. Your friends tend to rely on you, because they know that they can trust you help them work things out.

You sometimes tend to be impatient with people who are less practical in their ways. You don't have much patience for idiots who moan about things but never actually DO anything about them. You have high expectations of everyone, including yourself. When you don't succeed at something, or when something goes wrong despite your best efforts to prevent it, you can get quite hard on yourself. You need to cut yourself some slack and accept that everyone has their faults, even you, and THAT IS OKAY. Let yourself be faulty, every now and then, for the sake of your own sanity.

Link: The Deep and Meaningful Winnie-The-Pooh Character Test written by wolfcaroling on OkCupid, home of the The Dating Persona Test
View My Profile(wolfcaroling)

Sometimes You've Just Gotta Rant...

2008-03-28T13:09:00.000-04:00

Every so often in the midst of the bureaucracy to which our liturgical lives can occasionally sink, there comes a moment of grace--perhaps slightly panicky, but laden with blessing. Something like this happened to me during Holy Week. Holy Week was different for me this year; what a surprise! Everything's been different for me in the last year. I did not have to preach this year, not even once; our little church has become very little indeed of late, and there haven't been meetings in a while. But I suspect Spirit will begin doing something about that soon.

So, at a time when I would otherwise have been preparing sermons and attending services at the Episcopal Church where I sing, I was actually packing for a trip to Boston to spend the Holy Weekend with someone I love very much, in the city where I was raised. In the middle of the confusion that packing always brings for me, I received an e-mail from a friend: her infant nephew was in hospital very sick, with two frantic parents talking a need for emergency baptism lest the little fellow shuffle off the mortal coil at a painfully early age. I sent her a note back saying I was headed out of town, but that she could call me if she needed prayer at any point; then I sent news of little Chris's difficulty to every prayer list I know of, and hoped for the best.

Late on Wednesday I got a note back: would I stop at the hospital on the way out of town to baptize Chris? And could I use the RC rites? Well... one answers a pastoral call however one must, it goes with the collar, so I sent a note back to say yes. Then I re-arranged my plans, printed out the appropriate liturgy, and off I went. I feared the worst because my friend told me Chris’s parents were pretty desperate to have the baptism accomplished. The father, a non-practicing Catholic, wanted me to use the RC rite as much as possible. The mother is a non-churched Protestant, and they were both VERY unhappy because the local RC diocesan response to their urgent request had been… *breathes deeply* …less than helpful or loving.

Now, I do not about the world at large, but I know how I would react if a frantic parent called me and said their child was VERY sick and possibly in mortal danger. I spent about an hour counseling the family as we waited for a practicing Catholic in the family who was to serve as godmother. I played with Chris, who is a beautiful little man, and he seemed to take to me very well. He was pale and thin and looked like he’d been through a wringer—and every few moments he gave out with gut-wrenching, deep, hacking, whooping coughs that rattled his poor little form. We spent a nice hour, if somewhat sad and nervous. God-mom-to-be showed up; I told the family what would happen, we went over a few things, then we made a Christian out of Chris. Afterwards I anointed him for healing, then left them with the promise of prayer and a copy of my cell number in case they needed me during the weekend. They didn’t. In fact, by the time I hit ground back at home following my trip, healing blessings had flocked all around Chris like angels: he was much better, the dire diagnosis he had initially received proved to be incorrect, and while he's still sick, he's not dying--and they have found what they needed to know in order to treat him. He's out of the hospital now and recovering nicely, with happy parents. Happy ending, thank you God!

Except that I was still very unhappy (OK, I was livid, when you're Irish, German, Welsh and English you do NOTHING by halves...) at the way they were brushed off by the Institution of the Church. It took a while to calm down--lots of prayer, lots of pep-talking, but eventually I reached a more philosophical state of mind.

Now that I'm calmer and more relieved at how swiftly and happily God moved to alleviate little Chris' suffering and that of his family, I can't help but turn my thoughts to the priests and Diocesan functionaries who have to give these hurtful, bureaucratic responses to human need. I tried putting myself in the shoes of the man who had to look the father in the eyes and basically say look, I understand that your child might be dying, and I get that even though you no longer go to church, we inculcated into your being the idea that a child would go to Purgatory if unbaptised... but the rules state that I must tell you: if you want a proper Catholic baptism for Chris, you're going to have to jump through hoops AND it will take a couple of months, during which we'll hope the little one survives. But hey, know that I'm praying for you all... *slaps forehead* I feel so bad for these folks. I would not be able to do it. I could not look people in the eyes and say these cruel things! And I am constantly reminded to pray for those who must say them... and for the people responsible for making it necessary. :(

I can only imagine how horrible it must have been for that priest, and for the people in the Bishop's office that Chris's dad also called and begged to. And there's little any of them CAN do, save parrot the answers... dear GOD what is wrong with the Church!! How can someone make a rule like this, then call themselves an Alter Christus?? Jesus cut ACROSS hidebound rules like this! He hung out with sinners, let his disciples pull grain off the ear on the Sabbath, and generally did what was needful to meet the needs of people AT the moment, not tell them to jump through a bunch of hoops and hope to heck that everything stays copacetic until such time as the requirements are met! THAT is a bureaucracy, not a Church!

*breathes deeply*

But I do take hope and peace from thinking in the mode of wise friends who have commented on this: thank God there are saner heads out there. Thank God there are sacramental ways to get one's child baptized at the hour of need, and receive a loving response with God's resounding, life-affirming YES! rather than just a list of 'thou must'. But Oh, the pain involved for everyone... How can they not see that anything other that God's response causes people to look away from the Church? Where is the love in telling a father whose child may be dying that they'll baptize his son IF the kid survives while Daddy jumps through hoops?

Thanks for letting me rant. May the God of peace be with us all... and help us to see through the pain to those places of grace He gives us when we need them. And may God have mercy on us all...

Living Lent in the Fast Lane...

2008-03-18T12:28:00.005-04:00

OK, hands please: who else has noticed that Lent skated past like Counsel for the Opposition on greased roller skates down a frozen pathway??

Hnh. Thought as much. :)

As my son might say: Like, OMG, it's TUESDAY already and that means it's darn' near EASTER!!! So... how exactly did this happen???

I swear it was New Year's Eve only a few days ago. Then MUCH to my eternal surprise, suddenly I was back home and the choir director (the adorable and wonderful Rick!) at the Episcopal Church where I sing, handed out music one rehearsal evening and said "This is for Ash Wednesday; sorry it's so late, but this is a good one we've done before and can sing in our sleep." (And he was right... it was Mozart's "Ave Verum Corpus", which is known colloquially among our good-humoured choir as the Motorcycle Anthem [ahem... ave VROOOOOM!!... *grins*], which we have done many times and always to excellent reviews.)

Ash Wednesday. Huh?? Already??? But... but...

2007 was a rough year. I'm talking butt-ugly, hidden-blessings, ever-lovin' ROUGH. So as 2008 dawned I needed time, peace, stability... in short, by the time Ash Wednesday rolled inexorably downtown, I was SO not prepared to entomb my alleluias. I still needed them. Wanted them. Clung to the hope they offer. Off they went anyway... and now we hover on the brink of Easter. Wow.

God, my dears, is in the details. Whether you see Deity as male or female, neither, or even as everything, God is in the details. We'll get through it... I know that I hope, that as Virginia warms toward Spring this week and the days get longer with sweeter breezes before the heat hits, I will have a chance to sit down and reflect at the sleepless, painful, more-than-likely-necessary blur that was Lent. I hope, in short, that I will find the details I missed along the way, and be instructed concerning the blessings therein.

May it be so for you and yours--and may your Easter be especially blessed!

Friday Five: Time and Transitions

2008-03-14T17:20:00.004-04:00

here's a Friday Five about time and transitions....

1. If you could travel to any historical time period, which would it be, and why?

Probably Tudor England, so I could learn once and for all everything I want to know about women's upper-class clothing.

*blinks*

No really, I mean it... :)

OK, I'd also want to go to learn about the stirrings of the Reformation first-hand. Then I would like to travel to the American Civil War, to meet Robert E. Lee in person. He is one of my favourite people ever....

A side-trip to some point in the Wars of the Roses, to meet Jasper Tudor, would kinda rock too. :)

2. What futuristic/science fiction development would you most like to see?

The ending of certain diseases: cancer, AIDS, cystic fibrosis, kidney disease...

3. Which do you enjoy more: remembering the past, or dreaming for the future?

Remembering the past, I guess. There are too many times when hope is painful. *attempts a smile; finds it... not as hard as I thought*

4. What do you find most memorable about this year's Lent?

Two things, actually: how short it seemed by comparison, and how much it hurt. The Good Lord decided this would be a truly sucky Lent for me. But as usually happens, that means it will probably turn out to have been a truly important one as well...

5. How will you spend your time during this upcoming Holy Week? What part do you look forward to most?

I'm singing a solo on Palm Sunday; during the week I have three proposals due out at my tentmaker job, so I will be praying even harder than usual. :) I generally look forward the most to Holy Saturday because I adore the ceremony of the Easter Vigil--but this year, I'm on sabbatical. I'm going to Boston to spend time with a dear friend and am leaving on the morning of Maundy Thursday; no preaching, no ceremony, but I will go to church in My Most Favoritist City EVAH, and it's maybe even possible my friend will come along. :) But I have to tell you... the Easter Vigil, beginning in darkness and that long, slow, exhilarating walk down the aisle with the Paschal Candle, intoning "The Light of Christ!", is one of the times of the liturgical year that give me strength to go on through all the others.... :)

Friday Five: Yay, It's Winter!!

2008-01-25T16:14:00.000-05:00

Brrrr! Baby, it’s COLD outside! At least that is the case where I am this morning. We are in a January deep freeze. Have a cup of hot tea and tackle five easy seasonal questions.

1. What is the thermometer reading at your house this morning?

Was 7 degrees F when I awakened at 0730; now at 1615 it's 39 and falling, with a forecast of a balmy 18 degrees overnight. :)

2. Snow—love it or hate it?

Love it--so long as I don't have to drive in it. My pickup will take me many places; it's the other folks on the road, who didn't have the benefit of growing up in a heavy snow area as I did, that I fear.

3. What is winter like where you are?

Usually cold and rather harsh in terms of temps, wind, and all, because we're so open around here (on a glacial plain east of the Blue Ridge Mountains and west of the Atlantic Ocean). Things freeze hard fairly early on, then we have bleakness until a good snow covers everything in fluff. Another reason to love snow... :)

4. Do you like winter sports? Any good stories?

I like to watch football, does that count? Go Patriots!!! :) I have always wanted to ice skate but my ankles are too weak. Did you know it's now less than a month until the Red Sox pitchers and catchers report to Spring Training in Ft. Myer, FL??? :)

5. What is your favorite season, and why?

That's a tough call. I like Winter and feel an affinity for it, but I love Spring. Winter allows me to "be fallow" for a while; I tend to nest and plan toward the coming of March and the sap beginning to run again. Mostly I love Spring because of Easter.

Bonus: Share a favorite winter pick-me-up. A recipe, an activity, or whatever.

Thick lamb stew with barley, carrots, celery, some onion, and potatoes. Spoon it up and serve forth with fresh-baked bread slathered with butter and honey; consume in front of the fireplace. Yum!

Friday Five: It's All About Books!

2008-01-18T19:26:00.000-05:00

Well, pish posh! I think that some books ARE better than others! How about you?

1. What book have you read in the last six months that has really stayed with you? Why?

Susan Richards' Chosen By a Horse: How a Broken Horse Fixed a Broken Heart. It's about a rescue horse that ended up being the rescuer of the person who rescued the horse. A lot less complicated than it sounds--and yet a whole lot MORE complicated. It is a wonderful book. It caught my eye because of the horse on the cover; I bought the book because of this line in the cover blurb: "Then fate brought her into Susan's paddock, where she taught this brokenhearted woman how to embrace the joys of life despite the dangers of living." I've had my heart repeatedly broken over the last few months, so I truly needed this book. :)

2. What is one of your favorite childhood books?

Lady of Arlington, Harnett Kane's biographical novel of Mary Custis Lee, wife of Robert E. Lee. It is very well written, mostly accurate, and very sweet. An interesting look at history through the eyes of a woman who helped make it. General Lee is one of my heroes; after reading that book as a young'un, his wife became my hero too.

3. Do you have a favorite book of the Bible? Do tell!

Oh, Isaiah by a country mile... I adore the poetry and drama and hope, and OH the language....

4. What is one book you could read again and again?

Anything by Katherine Kurtz, and J.R.R. Tolkien's "Lord of the Rings" trilogy. (OK, I know that's a lot more than one--but I read a LOT.) I got the trilogy and The Hobbit for my tenth birthday (many years ago now... *grins*) and have read them about once a year every year since. Now ask me how I felt about the movies. G'wan, I double-dog-dare you. :)

5. Is there a book you would suggest for Lenten reading? What is it and why?

Phyllis Tickle's Eastertide: Prayers for Lent through Easter from The Divine Hours. It introduced me all over again to the concept of fixed-hour prayer, and it is so beautifully done that I highly recommend it. The introduction alone is worth the price of admission. She has a whole series of similar books for the whole Church Year.

And because we all love bonus questions, if you were going to publish a book what would it be? Who would you want to write the jacket cover blurb expounding on your talent?

Heh... loaded question, that--I've been writing since I was a kid. :) I have a number of historical fiction novels squirreled away, along with a lot of fantasy fiction. I'm currently working on a haunted romance (not my usual fare, admittedly, but this one won't let me go!) and a modern-day mythological thing that somewhat defies description. *grin* I would want my bishop to write the cover blurb--because she knows me better than I know myself. :)

Friday Five: Las Mañanitas

2008-01-11T12:54:00.001-05:00

Éstas son las mañanitas (These are the morning verses)
Que cantaba el Rey David, (That King David used to sing,)
A las muchachas bonitas (To the beautiful young ladies,)
Se las cantaba así. (He would sing them like this.)
(The Mexican birthday song, sometimes sung as a dawn serenade).

Mother Laura penned this birthday-inspired Friday Five (my answers below):

1. When is your birthday? Does anyone else (famous and/or in your own life) share it?

My birthday is October 1; I share it with Mrs. Robert E. Lee (Mary Custis), Julie Andrews, and President Carter. :) We be Libraz! (parenthetical note: my sister-in-law and best friend from HS, Amy, has General Lee's birthday. How cool is that??)

2. Do you prefer a big party or an intimate celebration for the chosen few?

Probably the latter; I have a hard time with the noise level at huge gatherings.

3. Describe your most memorable birthday(s)--good, bad, or both.

October 1, 1967: We partied quietly, like people around an open grave, because the Red Sox had won their game that afternoon--and our winning of the Pennant depended on the outcome of the Tigers game, which would not be concluded until that evening. I remember nothing birthday related, except that it was the day... until evening. I was sitting in the living room watching Walt Disney ("Fighting Prince of Donegal", not sure what episode...) and Daddy and Hutch were in the kitchen listening to the Tigers on the radio. I couldn't listen because, fanatic that I am, I hadn't been there for the first pitch--and superstition says one must NOT listen to or watch the game unless you're there from the start (unless your team is winning AND at bat when you tune in, then you MUST watch or listen because you'll jinx it if you walk away... LOL!). Suddenly two things happened exactly simultaneously: the scene on TV showed the Irish chieftains swearing to fight for Prince Hugh O'Donnell and all threw their cups into the fireplace while shouting for freedom--and Daddy and Hutch began screaming in the kitchen because the Tigers won. :) True story, I swear it. Now every Sox victory seems to bring that memory back. (Yeah, I know, religion and baseball YET again... *g*)

4. What is your favorite cake and ice cream? (Bonus points if you share the cake recipe). Or would you rather have a different treat altogether?

Green tea ice cream with raisins, and Simnel Cake (Yum marzipan...), a British tradition either for Easter or Mothering Sunday in Lent (depending on tradition),

Here's the recipe: 1 c. butter (room temperature), 1 c. sugar, 3 eggs, 1 c. dark raisins, 1 c. golden raisins, 1 c. currants, 1/2 c. chopped red candied cherries, 1/2 c. chopped mixed candied fruit, 2 (7 oz.) loaves of baking marzipan, 1 beaten egg yolk, 1 tbsp. milk for glaze. 3 tbsp. dark rum or sherry, 3 tbsp. orange juice, 2 c. sifted all-purpose flour, 1 tsp. baking powder, 1 tsp. ground cinnamon, 1 tsp. ground allspice

Preheat oven to 325 degrees; grease an 8-inch spring form pan. Line bottom and sides of pan with waxed paper and then grease the paper too. In a large bowl beat butter and sugar until light and fluffy (at least 5 minutes). Beat in eggs one at a time; beat well after each addition. Stir in raisins, currents, cherries, mixed fruit, rum (or sherry) and orange juice until combined. Sift flour, baking powder, cinnamon, and all spice over fruit mixture. Fold into the batter. Place 1 package of marzipan between 2 sheets of waxed paper, roll out to an 8-inch circle (this is NOT easy, the stuff tends to be hard...). Spoon half of the cake batter into your prepared pan, then place the marzipan circle over the batter. Spoon the remaining cake batter over marzipan and smoothe down the top. Bake in a preheated 325-degree oven for 2 hours and 30 minutes or until cake springs back when lightly pressed. Remove from oven; cool completely in pan or a wire rack.

Increase the oven temperature to 425 degrees. Remove *cooled* cake from the pan and peel off the lining paper. Place the cake on a small baking sheet; roll out the remaining loaf of marzipan to an 8-inch circle. Brush the top of cake with an egg-yolk glaze; place the second marzipan circle on top of cake. For a decorative touch, flute the edge. Score marzipan in a decorative pattern (a lattice seems to be traditional) with blunt knife. Brush the top lightly with egg-yolk glaze.

Bake in preheated oven 10-12 minutes until marzipan is lightly browned. Remove cake from baking sheet; cool completely on wire rack. Serve with lots of green ice cream and go into carb/sugar overload paradise. :)

5. Surprise parties: love 'em or hate 'em?

Absolutely hate them. I'm not good with surprises of any sort. *grins*

Bonus: Describe your ideal birthday--the sky's the limit.

Oh my... OK, you DID say sky's the limit. My ideal birthday would take place at one of the skyboxes at Fenway Park, DURING a playoff run with the Red Sox so seriously in the lead that nothing could stop them. The above-requested cake and ice cream are present in abundance, and jokes are freely made about green ice cream/Green Monster wall in the Pahk (local dialect, you know...). Dinner is shrimp cocktail followed by prime rib (rare for me with lots of whipped horseradish creme!), steamed lobster tails, baked potatoes with everything, and sugar snap peas in butter. If Johnny Pesky, Carl Yaztrzemski, Rico Petrocelli, Curt Shilling, and Jonathan Papelbon (and their spouses of course!) are in attendance, RevSharon is in heaven. :) All my friends are there of course, and we have live music by the Dropkick Murphys. The beer is Irish and German, the wine is Chateauneuf du Pape, I get lots of presents, and the Red Sox win, of course. :) Paps probably will have to leave early to secure the win as Closer, but that's OK. I love watching him pitch. :) Afterwards we all go across the street to the Cask 'n Flagon for more celebrating. We take any leftover cake and wine with us of course. *grins*

So, Where WERE You??

2008-01-08T15:01:00.000-05:00

I came across this beautiful portion of Psalm 139 today while reading:

"I will give thanks to You,
for I am fearfully and wonderfully made;
Wonderful are Your works,
And my soul knows it very well."

Had a bit of a surprising reaction to it: tears. OK, now, anyone who knows me even slightly knows that one of the powers I was given at birth was the ability to cry at the drop of a hat... but this usually happens for good reasons. :) I am easily moved, and wouldn't have it any other way. However.... In choir not long ago we did a piece that was Psalm 139 set to glorious music--the sort of music that sticks in your head. And thereby hangs a tale.

Several folks have noticed, and sent me notes offline concerning, the fact that I didn't post pretty much from the end of October until now. There's a bizarre reason for that. On Hallowe'en morning I toddled off to work (60 miles away; I live in the rural sticks, don'tcha know), with a cheesecake sitting in the front passenger-side foot well of my beloved little sedan. Not just ANY cheesecake, mind you: it was Frankenstein-green, and featured pistachios. It was glorious and (as was later discovered) tasted Pretty Darn Good (tm). It was for the Hallowe'en party at my office in the Infamous Tentmaker Job (tm), since we've established a tradition of shedding our seriousness a couple days a year and having parties. I was going to dress up as a Red Sox player (I know, mixing fun and religion again... *snork*...) and had my costume in the back seat, along with the paper plates, plastic cutlery, and divers decorations, since I was one of the Party Instigators.

Never made it.

Came awfully close to never making it anywhere, ever again, had my guardian spirits not been really, really watchful.

For reasons still unknown, I blacked out at the wheel on a back street near my former home. A number of things conspired to keep me alive and keep those I almost hit in the same shape: it was rush hour, yet there were no other cars nearby. It was near an elementary school, yet all the kids were safely in class by a few minute's timing. I had been going uphill about the time I blacked out, so I wasn't going fast when the car went off the road (only about 5 feet in, mind!), struck a tree and divested it of about a foot of bark, then car, me, and pieces of tree ended up on a retaining wall. I did not hit the woman who was about to leave her driveway, because something knocked a piece of paper off her front seat--and she braked to catch it. I did not hit her neighbor who was taking out his trash--because he paused at the astonishing sight of an unconscious woman in an auto that was slowly moving toward his neighbor lady's tree.

Somehow I had gone about half a mile from where I last remembered being, and come to rest in their yard. The two neighbors were kind, helpful, and compassionate. The police and the EMTs were thorough and considerate. And I found myself in hospital, with nothing worse than a lump on the side of my head. Go figure...

In the ER, the first thing they found turned out to be the dealie: I had everything else as normal as normal could be, except the electrolyte potassium was "oddly low" according to the nice man who took my blood and did the tests. They explained as to how this could cause muscles like the heart to temporarily take a rest, thus lowering blood to the brain and causing unconsciousness... but no one could tell me how the drop occurred. We all pretty much agreed that I have superb guardian angels....

So where does Psalm 139 come in? Well, my doctors ordered every test they could think of, including MRIs, 24-hour monitoring, and all that. They told me I had the brain of a 30-year-old (I'm 51) and didn't get the joke when I said very seriously, "Hmm, she'll probably be wanting it back sooner or later then, you think??" :) And they ordered an ultrasound of my heart.

Now mind... I've seen ultrasound before. Watched my son wave at me from within my womb, watched friends' soon-to-be kids do likewise. And yes, I cried at the very sight of it, for it is indeed an astonishing thing. But somehow, laying there in that awful hospital gown, watching my very own heart beat on TV, seeing how wonderfully regular and strong it was... the music came into my head: "I am fearfully and wonderfully made... my soul knoweth that full well...." And to the dismay of the young man doing the test, I started to cry. Tears of thanksgiving... tears of grateful joy, tears of delayed reaction to everything that had happened. Took a while to explain, but then he told me quite seriously: "Happens fairly often, I just wanted to be sure you weren't squicked or something." *grins* Kids these days...

That and some basic fallout from same contributed to my absence from the blogosphere. My beloved little sedan is gone, alas, for it cost more than it was worth to fix it up; I am now the proud owner of a green pickup truck and 72 months of vehicle payments. But I was reminded in my reading today that it had been a rather close run--and the grateful tears came rushing back. I'm glad to be here!

And I'm glad you're all here too. Prayers forthcoming for all the concerns expressed in various places; may God walk with you always!

How Did It Get to Be 2008 Already???

2008-01-07T18:25:00.001-05:00

Wow, where did that year go?? I feel as if it should still be June of 2007 or something, not January of 2008. The holidays hastened past before I could even get a handle on them, and now here we are in the long oddity that is the pre-Lent downtime. Wooo....

I guess the question we usually ask one another is this: did you make resolutions? Wellll.... here's the deal. Remember back a couple of entries ago I was talking about intentional living? Well... I like the comments from several fellow Revs that intentions are better than resolutions. :) So here are my intentions for 2008:

1) I absolutely WILL do more things for myself. Is that selfish? My poor little Libra gut wants to say so, but then I start thinking: when they run the "welcome to the flight" spiel on airlines, what do they say? If you're traveling with someone who needs assistance, put on your own oxygen mask first, THEN help them with theirs. Why? Because if you can't breathe, you can't help anyone. It isn't selfish, it's survival. In order to be there for the people you serve, love, live with, need, whatever--you have to survive. You must care for yourself. Sometimes thinking of yourself first is the best way to be there for others.

2) What will I do for myself? Ah... I have a little list. OK, it's a bloody great BIG list. :) Things I've put off for years. Things I've ignored. Clothing I want to make for myself... foods I want to try... riding time and general horse fun time that I never seem to have enough of because there are so many other things going on that "MUST be done..." Oh yes, a LONG list.

3) I will intentionally release fear. Whenever I feel it nibbling at my edges I will bless it and breathe through it. I will NOT fight it, because it is a part of me. I will instead very intentionally honour it, then let it go. Fear is a nervous sibling of excitement: it helps us define situations. Before I take the big leaps of life, I feel fear: it helps me remember that I am alive, that I have senses and sensations. And after I take the leap, the adrenaline flows through and helps me say WOW! where before I was saying OMIGOSH.... So fear will not be banished, it will be released.

4) I will intentionally believe that I deserve good things in my life. OH how my generation has battled this, men and women alike. We were raised to serve, brought up to question and volunteer and DO... but it was always in terms of doing for others, serving others, saving something for someone else. Then right around the same time, major cultural change happened--and the pendulum went toward hedonism for a good long while. Now that I am in my 50s I will find the balance: I will continue to serve because I love doing so and am called, but I will intentionally enjoy it more--and enjoy the good things that come my way as well.

5) I will intentionally look for good. I have spent far too many years on guard against bad things; now I will actively search out good ones. Be they brief, like enjoying the last rays of sun before the glory of sunset, or lengthy like the chance to sit and enjoy your lunch or dinner, I will seek them out and enjoy.

So there they are: my intentions, for better or worse. :)

I actually took a vacation this holiday season. A day or so after Christmas I drove up to Massachusetts to spend time with a very dear friend. We hung out, watched anime, talked; we hung out with horses, we hung out with family, we laughed a lot, and even cried a little. It was a surreal experience because I haven't taken a real vacation in AGES. I didn't check my work e-mail for the Tentmaker Job even once while I was gone, though I wasn't cold turkey enough to leave the laptop home. *grins* It wasn't quite intentional overall; I intentionally took the vacation, but left it all up to circumstance to see what we would end up doing. We had a wonderful time and I came home refreshed. I could get used to this. :)

So happy new year everyone, whatever your resolutions or intentions! May 2008 intentionally be a good one for you and yours!

Friday Five: If I Were Food....

2007-10-19T20:46:00.000-04:00

LOL! I'm afraid what first went through my head was the tune of "If I were a Rich Man" from Fiddler: "If I were a foodstuff..." and on that silly note, here is this week’s Friday Five.

1. If you were a food, what would you be? -- probably a lobster. Boiled and doused in drawn butter. *drools delicately*

2. What is one of the most memorable meals you ever had? And where? You didn't say it had to be GOOD memorable.... LOL! Thanksgiving Dinner, 1971.... the first I ever cooked completely on my own. My mother, then long-separated from Daddy, was coming with HER mother, Gramma; her younger sister, Aunt Marilyn; and Marilyn's eldest, Cousin Fred. No pressure.... Everything that could go wrong did, and Mom ended up taking over my kitchen (which annoyed me at the time and amuses me now, because Oh My, I've turned INTO her at this point...) and somehow dinner happened, but it was hardly the best I've ever had. *grins* The memorable good stuff about it was that was the one time I had the majority of my distaff family in one place at one time, and I miss that.

3. What is your favorite comfort food from childhood? Krafft macaroni and cheese in the comforting blue box... and fried clams with bellies. I grew up Nawth of Bahstahn, after all.... LOL!

4. When going to a church potluck, what one recipe from your kitchen is sure to be a hit? Stuffed shells with home-made red sauce. Lots of cheese, lots of beef, big huge pasta shapes. :)

5. What’s the strangest thing you ever willingly ate? Eel. The rest of my tastes (well, possibly excepting the clams with bellies fetish!) are rather pedestrian.... :)

Bonus question: What’s your favorite drink to order when looking forward to a great meal? German beer. Dopplebock. Drawn not bottled.

Been Gone Too Long...

2007-10-08T21:55:00.000-04:00

Hi folks,

Happy Autumn and a blessed October to you all! I love October... I wake up in October. *grins* I was born on October 1, married on the 21st, and our one surviving son was born on the 13th. It's a pretty special month!

This year will mark the 28th wedding anniversary... though there's really no marriage left to speak of. That is a thing of great sadness for me--but we have remained friends, and that is probably a far better outcome than I feared.

October is one of those months when we are betwixt and between. Down here in the Old Dominion, summer releases its hold only after much pushing; today it was 90 and humid, July weather in the opening days of the reign of the Winter King. The leaves have only just now started vaguely thinking about changing colour; we need rain, and the nights haven't yet begun to be cool for real. But they will soon. I can smell it in the air!

October generally means a time of reflection and serious thought. Some dear friends have chosen it as a time to pass on; some have chosen it as time to be married, or to give birth. For me this year October is a time of bursting energy and Muses re-awakened. More as the month wears on...

May you all have a great month! I've missed being here during the Dark Night of the Soul; I'm glad there are orange and yellow leaves in the sun at the end of the tunnel.

Friday Five: Word Association

2007-08-17T18:25:00.000-04:00

Below you will find five words. Tell us the first thing you think of on reading each one. Your response might be simply another word, or it might be a sentence, a poem or a story.

1. vineyard

Hmmm... first thought that comes to mind is my favourite workplace: the vineyard into which my Savior has sent me, and where I am privileged to serve His people. Second thought, of course, is Virginia Wines... yum... :-)

2. root

The Root of my Being... my Lord Jesus, His Father, and Our Lady Sophia. These roots strike deep and wrap lovingly about the heart...

3. rescue

Oddly enough, makes me think first of my Dad, who was a radioman in the Coast Guard during WW2... but theologically speaking, rescue of course leads to thoughts of salvation. Rescued by grace, and saved...

4. perseverance

That lovely old poem, "Don't Quit"; Daddy had it hanging on the wall over his desk, and from time to time I have either thought of this poem as a lifeline in time of trouble--an inspiration, if you will--or a supreme annoyance, much like St. Hildegard's repetitive but true "all will be well, and all will be well, and all manner of thing shall be well..." *g* Here's the poem (author apparently unknown):

When things go wrong, as they sometimes will,
When the road your trudging seems all uphill,
When the funds are low and the debts are high,
And you want to smile, but you have to sigh,
When care is pressing you down a bit
Rest if you must, but don't you quit.

Life is queer with its twists and its turns,
As everyone of us sometimes learns,
And many a failure turns about
When they might have won, had they stuck it out.
Don't give up though the pace seems slow,
You may succeed with another blow.

Often the struggler has given up
When he might have captured the victors cup;
And he learned too late when the night came down,
How close he was to the golden crown.

Success is failure turned inside out
The silver tint of the clouds of doubt
And you never can tell how close you are,
It may be near when it seems so far;
So stick to the fight when your hardest hit,
It's when things seem worst that you must not quit!

5. divided

Hmm... the obvious ones come up first: divided loyalties, divided cities (Berlin...), divided families or friends... a house divided... but there's a lot of proto-positivism in this word. Jesus DIVIDED the bread and gave it to His disciples. He DIVIDED the loaves and fishes, and fed the five thousands. DIVIDED highways make for faster commutes, implying as they do more lanes in each direction... :-)

I guess the lesson there is, it's all in how you choose to look at things. Glass half full, or half empty? I have decided to champion it being half-FULL! So I can divide the contents among my friends, and share!

Happy Friday, y'all!

Blessings,
Sharon+

Yoda Bumps

2007-08-11T11:26:00.000-04:00

I'm sitting here with my back trying to put the kibosh on everything I do (three compressed discs, no waiting... *sighs*), clearly being taught some lessons in Intentional Living. As in, it ain't easy to stick with the intention of Living Intentionally when everything in the world suddenly turns into a Yoda Bump... *g*

Let me define and explain a bit. A "Yoda Bump" is some object, person or situation (size matters not! *g*) that suddenly seems to appear out of nowhere to try and mess you over when you've just done something virtuous (decided to be kinder, not eat too many desserts, quit slugging back so many empty-calorie sodas per day, or Live Intentionally--just as utterly unrelated examples, of course! *whistles innocently*). Yoda Bumps try your patience, push you, stay in your way no matter what direction you turn--until you face them, handle them, pull up your Big Girl Collar and deal, or whatever. If you ignore them or whine, they grow--like Pinocchio's nose. Once you let go, face them, hug them or spit in their eye... they go away.

Making room, of course, for the next one... *wry smile* But that's no nevermind.

Like all the pain-in-the-keester things Yoda did to Luke in the swamps of Dagobah before Luke KNEW this was the Jedi Master he should have been making nice to... Yoda Bumps try you. It's a test. Sometimes it's a bit harsh--like one's back going out on one, on the same day one had promised to help wrangle many entrants to a horse show. Sometimes they're downright pathetically nasty (sorta like locking yourself out of your house completely, barefoot, no contacts in, with only your cell phone to rely on--and the only person with a key who can be reached is your son, who is in bed asleep... at the house he shares with your ex, who is the only one who drives... and you live an hour and change away... again, not like, umm, that has anything to do with ME!! *whistles some more and toes the dirt a bit*).

In short, they exist to find out if you are serious. When you lit the candles on your personal altar and made Big Promises in front of God and Everybody, were you serious? When you said you wanted to manifest into your life the Big Dream you've had since you were a kid--and swore that you know it's not going to be easy--were you sucking up to the Jedi Master? Or do you have the Right Stuff to pull this off with the help of the aforementioned God and Everybody?

Cuz if you are... one crappy little Yoda Bump isn't going to stop you.

Is it?

I had a crawful of Yoda Bumps last weekend, but many blessings came my way once I stopped whining and kicked back. Or didn't, as the case may have been. The fair thing about Yoda Bumps is that whatever form they may otherwise take, it's usually pretty obvious how to handle it. If you're stuck and the only person who can help you is someone you've broken up with, or that you socially despise, or who has hurt you in the past--you have to suck it up and accept help from something other than a nice knight on a horse. If you're overwhelmed and the key to breaking the logjam is to say or do something you otherwise would rather pull out your entrails than do--take a deep breath and say or do it. And always, always remember what Eleanor Roosevelt once said: No one can make you feel inferior without your consent...

The thing for which I requested prayer on July 19 is still in progress, and I still feel very strongly that it will somehow happen. It is very near to the realm of miracles in terms of what will be required--but it is not impossible. However, because it IS so unlikely, and yet feels so right, there is much that I must personally attend to--and trust about--and thus, I am facing a veritable minefield of Yoda Bumps in every direction I look. IF I were to look at them as a whole, I'd give up now. *g* But I'm not going to DO that.

I will take them one bump at a time, one hurdle, one step, one breath... because that's the only way to do it. And somehow I will persevere. And it will be good. But at the moment, I think I shall go look at some nice pics of Amidala, or Leia, or (skipping fandoms slightly) Susan Ivanova, or maybe even Qui-Gon Jinn--because I'm really, really tired of looking at Master Yoda's little green visage. :-)

That's how things stand today at the Daisy Hill Puppy Farm, Aerodrome and Miracle Manifestation Factory... that's my story and I'm stickin' to it. See you soon!

Been Gone a While...

2007-07-19T08:40:00.000-04:00

We all have them: lengthy dry periods, or times when SO many fertile things are happening that it is practically impossible to track them all. :-) I've had both lately.

I have a special request to make today, July 19, 2007:

Wherever you are at the hour which corresponds to Noon in the Eastern time zone of the US, could you say a prayer and send me some energy? Something potentially very special is in the works--the possible actual happening of a dream I've had since childhood--under bizarre and tingly-good circumstances. I'll be in a meeting at noon in Warrenton, Virginia that could literally change my life in a VERY good way. It is not a job interview, and it is not a medical test of any sort. I'll explain later, I promise. God is working out some wonderful things, and I am trying to be as intentional as I possibly can.

Hugs,
Sharon +

Friday Five: Oh Boy It's Summer!!!

2007-06-22T20:22:00.002-04:00

Ahh, summer.... that magical season of no school... *g* Boy did THAT change once I got to college! But summer is the Time When Baseball Happens, and when life ramps up even MORE.... *g*

Here are this week's Friday Five prompts!

1. Favorite summer food(s) and beverage(s)

ribs, chili dogs (no onions, please!) and beer. Spaten Optimator doppelbock, bitte... :-) Now THAT'S beer!

2. Song that "says" summer to you. (Need not be about summer explicitly.)

Take Me Out to the Ballgame (and/or the National Anthem...)

3. A childhood summer memory

Laying in bed late on a hot summer night, listening to the lulling sound of crowd noise and the dulcet tones of Curt Gowdy or Ken Coleman as they gave the play-by-play of any Red Sox game... the crack of the bat as a hit is made; the rising roar as the ball sails out of the park... Daddy whooping in the kitchen... Ahh, childhood....

Of course another memory is sneaking downtown on a school day, caging a cab ride on the B&M Railroad from some co-worker of my Dad's... spending my allowance on a bleacher seat at Fenway Park... going to the Ladies' Room during the 7th Inning Stretch, only to be accosted... by my Dad, who growled "What in H*ll are you doing here?" I paused, searched desperately for a response, then realized HE should have been at work. I put hands on hips, and growled right back: "What in H*ll are YOU doing here?"

We agreed to disagree on the topic of responsibility; he later drove me to North Station and told me which train to get, gave me ticket money, and told me to keep my trap shut. And to never sit with him when I play hooky. *g* And I never did... In all those years we never ONCE sat together at a Sox home game.

*wibbles a bit* I miss my Dad... he's been gone 20 years come this December.

4. An adult summer memory

Attending a Civil War re-enactment (something I've done a lot since I was 13) and going to the latrines at about 5:30 AM... it was nearly sunrise on one of those Virginia summer mornings where it is actually cold and there's a clinging mist rising from the hollows until the sun burns it off. I trudged across the field, did what was needful, then came out and wandered back toward my tent... when I encountered the Federal commander, in full uniform and mounted on the biggest darn Warmblood I'd ever seen to that point. Man and horse alike, they could have ridden into the heart of 1863 and fit in perfectly.... (OK, and it would have been my duty to capture them as a good Johnny Reb, but that's neither here nor there. *g*) I just stood there, stunned and delighted, taking it all in. There was NOTHING within visual range that hinted this was anything BUT the past.... it was a magical moment for sure.

5. Describe a wonderful summer day you'd like to have in the near future. (weather, location, activities)

A friend and I rise before the birdies, head over to the farm and load up the horses... we've packed a picnic lunch and the cameras, not a laptop in sight, and the cell phones are present but not voting, turned off and tucked into the saddlebags. We drive the horses over to the Manassas Battlefield riding park, unload, tack up, and head out just as the sun is rising. The weather is gorgeous. The sky is that painfully, wonderfully clear blue against which everything stands out in perfect relief; only a few wispy clouds in the sky, sunny otherwise and just warm enough to be comfortable, but not a smitch of humidity. (Rather like the day we had today in Old Virginia...) We amble along for a while until lunchtime hits, then we dismount, untack the horses, and give them grazing room on a picket line while we eat. The food is yummy, and one of us manages to take at least one perfect picture before we head home. Neither horse throws a shoe OR a rider.

Optional: Does your place of worship do anything differently in the summer? (Fewer services, casual dress, etc.)

The Episcopal church where I sing is fairly laid-back (and what my deacon calls "a step above snake-belly Low" in liturgical style!) so casual clothing is pretty much a part of the landscape anyway. The parish I serve as pastor (St. Brigid's) is on hiatus until we figure out what we want to be when we grow up, so my own church is rather quiet these days. Considering how hot it was in the shared space we used to use, though, it was shorts and t-shirts under the vestments... *g*

Friday Five... Ahhh, Books!!

2007-06-15T13:55:00.000-04:00

Today's Friday Five is all about books! What a lovely topic!

Let's see now, hmmm...

1. Fiction what kind, detective novels, historical stuff, thrillers, romance????

Historical fiction, fantasy, some science fiction. I write the first two as well as read it; I tried writing SF, but was told I wasn't weird enough to do it properly. *snorts* I guess there's weird, and then there's WEIRD.... *g*

2. When you get a really good book do you read it all in one chunk or savour it slowly?

Depends on the book. If it's a massive tome and I'm short on time, I almost have to savour it; but I have been known to stay up literally all night because I cannot STAND to not know what happens next.

3. Is there a book you keep returning to and why?

Rumer Godden's China Court, a book that I read almost by accident. I got in trouble with my paternal grandmother, who lived with us (perilously easy to get into trouble with her, really doggone hard to get OUT of it once in... so this was a frequent thing!). She locked me in the study and told me she'd be back for me later; she forgot completely, and in between sleeping, I read the only book I could find. *wry grin* It is nevertheless a stunningly beautiful, sad, hopeful book; glowingly written, memorable characters, and it struck a chord with me that resounds without hesitation even now as I think about it. I read it about once a year.

4. Apart from the Bible which non-fiction book has influenced you the most?

I think I would have to say Julia Cameron's Artist's Way: A Spiritual Path to Higher Creativity. I have always been able to find my way back to my own creativity in the bad spaces when my muses have gone walkabout without me. She's also written a number of other books in the same vein, all of which I can recommend--but this one, the first, was life-changing for me.

5. Describe a perfect place to read. ( could be anywhere!!!)

There's a turnpike stairway at the National Cathedral in Washington, DC that is the absolute perfect place to read, regardless of weather--but I live 67 miles away, and cannot always get there. *g* So... I think the best place to read is either in a hammock in my back yard, or on the chaise in my living room. When in the LR, of course my favourite accessory is my cat Thranduil... :-)

I've Been Tagged! :-)

2007-06-14T20:29:00.000-04:00

I've been tagged by cpclergymama for my first random eight. This should prove interesting! *g*

I have to post these rules before I give you the Randomness:

1. Each player starts with eight random facts/habits about themselves.
2. People who are tagged need to write their own blog about their eight things and post these rules.
3. At the end of your blog, you need to choose eight people to get tagged and list their names.
4. Don't forget to leave them a comment telling them they are tagged and to visit your blog.

And now the Random Eight (sounds like a boy band... *g*)

1. I was born in Massachusetts, and still can produce a perfect Bahstahn Accent with very little provocation...
2. My father, grandfather, and older brother were all railroad men in their turn--and all for the same railroad, the Boston & Maine (B&M) though in my brother's tenure it is no longer known as that officially.
3. I own a marvelous horse named Jasper, who is a cross between a Foundation Quarter Horse (dam) and a Connemara "pony" (sire). His pic is on my profile.
4. I am a born and bred fan of the Boston Red Sox; therefore baseball is a religious exercise for me. *g*
5. I can tie the stems of maraschino cherries in a knot using only my tongue (clear sign of a mis-spent youth!)
6. I am honorary chaplain to an ROTC battalion based at a university in the District of Columbia; I adore my kids and their Cadre!
7. I write novels, mostly fantasy, in my *cough* copious spare time.
8. I'm a published historian in the field of World War One military aviation.

I haven't been around long, but these are some folks I've enjoyed reading so far. I tag:

1. Pastor Paula
2. Purechristianithink
3. Mrs. M
4. Mother Laura

My First Friday Five...

2007-06-01T11:05:00.000-04:00

1. Think back to the time you left High School, what were your hopes visions and dreams for your life/ for the world?

I wanted desperately to be a teacher and preacher. I wanted the world to survive long enough for my children to see peace...

2. Have those hopes visions and dreams changed a lot, or are some of them still alive and kicking? (share one if you can)

I finally got to be a preacher, but don't get much chance to practice... Teacher I've been, and wish I could go back to, but the lure of Mammon and a well-paid telecommuting position as a tech writer/editor has its hooks into me way too well.

My one surviving child is now a young man of 25; he has seen personal peace, but the world is in rather INteresting shape as he matures. Maybe he'll be part of the solution!

My dream of teaching is still alive and kicking though, and I will prayerfully explore that as I go. Preaching, yup... Have any of those things changed? Probably. I have changed a lot since I was in high school; it took me rather a long time to grow up properly (as opposed to the skewed way I did... *g*) but I think I'm on track now.

3. Hebrews 11:1 "Now faith is the substance of things hoped for, the evidence of things not seen." Comforting, challenging or frustrating?

Frustrating, I think... Hope has always been one of my hot-button words because of a rather, hmm, problematic childhood and bizarro marriage. :-) I like Hope, I try to cultivate it, but it runs away a lot and sends "Passive Aggressive Enabler" in its place for recess time. *wry grin* Based on that, if faith = substance of things hoped for + evidence of things not seen, I'm a little leery of seeing the outcome, if you catch my drift... In the end though, I have a strong belief in the faith that is in me--and I can easily wrap my brain around the concept of faith being the evidence of things not seen as a basic foundational concept. Maybe I need to stop trying to diagram Paul's sentences quite so much. :-)

4. If resources were unlimited and you had free reign to pursue a vision, what would it be?

Oooh... too easy to dream, too expensive to pull off, but you did say unlimited resources. *g* I had this idea years ago: that it would be way cool to move to an area where a large migrant worker community passes through, and establish a kind of "safe haven" and learning space for them and their families. Sort of a leg-up kind of place, so that while the able adults are working during the day, the elderly and kids can have access to teachers, computer labs, and stuff to enable them to get some experience with things they might not otherwise get. For all of them there would be clean, safe places to sleep, with temporary storage (to which they hold the key) for their belongings; everyone would get a good breakfast in the morning, and know that there would be lunch brought to the work sites (and fed on-site to the elderly and kids), with dinner available in community in the evening. Hot showers, stuff like that, also available...

5. Finally with summer upon us- and not to make this too heavy- share your dream holiday....where, when and who with...

:-) Anything involving horses, Wales, mountain and forest-type places to ride, and camping. With maybe an overnight stay in a few castles. Who with? Hmm... interesting thought that...

Okay, St. Anthony, I GET It... :-)

2007-05-31T23:16:00.001-04:00

Note to self: when a saint's been at his or her specialty for over 700 years, they probably have it "down" by now...

Interesting night. Lots going on. Must be that full moon.

The short version with salient facts is this: I was talking with St. Anthony tonight, because I mislaid two things I really needed. My tent-maker job is technical writing/editing and business analysis for a nice company in Northern Virginia. I had some important deliverables on a thumb drive (also known as a flash or stick drive)--and could not find the thing. There were two that I misplaced, and for all I knew my files could be on either. Couldn't find them. Had a long chat with the Lad from Padua, about all sorts of things--finding my way, helping friends and loved ones find theirs... I got out the envelope sent to me by those Franciscan friars I mentioned the other day... and started writing the check.

Guess what.

There, under the spot where the envelope and the prayer card with medal had been sitting for a couple of days... was one of the thumb drives. I swear I looked there a thousand times. I said to St. Anthony, "OK, one down... I refused to be disheartened by not finding the other one, I know you're on it." We kept conversing... I prepped the trash for tomorrow, then something seemed to be pushing me to look in my briefcase. Again. For about the tenth time.

The thumb drive with my files on it was there. In a place I know, know, KNOW I had already looked and NOT found it. I'm telling you, sisters and brothers, if I find the iPod I mislaid before I moved and have wanted many a time, I will be SO grateful to dear St. Anthony!!

Not the least because, while we were conversing, he helped me find the ability to weep again... :-) Funny thing to lose, priceless gift to receive back. Much needed.

Bedtime... for one very grateful person. I just had to let you all know.

in loving service,
Rev. Sharon+

Open Eyes, Engage Brain...

2007-05-24T20:07:00.001-04:00

...and perhaps you won't have a day like I did today. *rolls eyes*

Boy was I dumb last night... I was so tired that I accidentally set my alarm clock one hour ahead time-wise, then set the alarm for 4:15 AM... I got up, got dressed, went downstairs wondering if I'd had a power failure because I couldn't smell coffee.... The microwave clock, the clock on the stove, and the coffee maker all said it was 3:30 AM!!! No sense in going back to bed... so I made my coffee and drove to my day job. *zzzzzzzzzzzzzz* Normally I like my day job. Plenty of chances for ministry. But boy, I could not wait until 8 hours had been accomplished! I hope I can be coherent tonight...

I have recently moved to a new town, far away from the previous one, because my husband and I have split up after 28+ years of marriage. LONG story... the bottom line though is that I am settling down little by little, unpacking boxes, preparing for the visit of two dear friends early next month. (Nothing like a deadline to get me in gear!) Coming home is now a peaceful thing, and I know that any messes I see will be of my own making. THAT I can deal with. :-) But the split itself, though far less painful than I feared it would be, has still been fraught with sorrow and grief. It has been coming on for many a year; I daresay lots of my friends were convinced it would never happen at all. So was I. I would do it again if need be--but it has been like a death, and it hurts like a grief, and like a grief I laugh almost as often as I weep.

But there is grief, and there is grief. Tonight would have been--and still is!--the wedding anniversary of my friends Alex and David. They have been parted as well, but by the Ultimate Lover, Death. We were all stunned earlier this year when Rebbe David, only in his 40s and recovering so well from a heart attack, suffered another and went home to dance in a different field for a while. At the time of his passing all I could summon the strength to do was weep. It seemed so incredibly unfair! They were so much in love... so perfectly right for each other. Imagine an Independent Catholic Priest (Alex, a delightful woman with a quirky sense of humour and much music in her soul) and a Rabbi (David, also delightful, quirkily humourous, musical...) married to one another--and in many cases ministering in tandem harness, to the same folks and friends. It was the perfect partnership. But then David's time came, all too soon... and now Alex soldiers on alone. As anyone can tell you who has loved and lost, it just isn't the same thing to remind oneself that the parting is not forever... my usual answer (most of the time silently in a broken heart) to such a comment is a weak smile and an internal gut-wrenching scream of "But it feels like forever right NOW!"

The good news is, God gets that. Jesus made it possible for Him to get that.

The bad news is, it still hurts. But even there, good news abounds: pain, after all, is one of the quickest ways to know you are alive (though I most sincerely do NOT recommend it as a touchstone, unless you're living with chronic pain--and then it is sacramental...). You cannot feel, be it pain or pleasure, if you are no longer living.

When I limped home tonight, alone and lonely, tired (okay, exhausted!) and worn down from the day, I was hoping something would help me feel... something. Hopefully something good. When I fetched the mail I found a letter from the Franciscan Friars of the Atonement in Garrison, NY. They sent me a lovely St. Anthony prayer card and one of the prettiest medals I've seen in a long time: a little silver-tone heart outlined in gold tone, with the image in the centre of St. Anthony embracing the infant Jesus--the way Anthony is usually iconically depicted. The prayer card also surprised me into a moment of joy, for instead of the usual “Tony, Tony, turn around. Something’s lost and must be found” thing (which I adore, BTW, I don't mean to sound disparaging...) it has a prayer with which I am far less familiar. This is what it says:

Oh Holy St. Anthony,
Reach down from heaven and take hold of my hand.

Assure me that I am not alone.

You are known to possess miraculous powers
and to be ever ready to speak for those in trouble.

Loving and gentle St. Anthony,
Reach down from heaven I implore you and assist me
in my hour of need. Obtain for me (mention your request here).

Dearest St. Anthony,
Reach down from heaven and guide me with thy strength.
Plead for me in my needs.
And teach me to be humbly thankful as you were,
for all the bountiful blessings I am to receive.

Amen.

I was extremely touched by this prayer, especially feeling as I am tonight. In the midst of my own sorrow I was already remembering Alex and her sorrows; I asked St. Anthony to obtain for Alex a sense of God's presence, of David's presence, and a lot of peace of mind and heart-healing. And I felt humbly grateful for the chance to come outside my own selfishness for a while, to think of someone else and pray for them--for in the act of prayer for another, we gain all sorts of wonderful blessings for ourselves.

God is rather... good at that sort of thing--that reciprocal grace thing. :-) And I for one am very glad He is!

Coming around full circle, there was a grace given me this morning at 00:DARK:00 when I drove down the street to head off to work. I am living way out in the country now, as opposed to near the city; one can see MANY more stars here, and so it was this morning. A waxing gibbous moon hung in the sky like a lover, with several brighter stars visually nearby--an absolutely lovely sight, and one I have missed. I made myself take a moment--had not an entire extra hour been gifted to me, after all?--to look at it, and though it was not the first or last star of the night, I made a wish anyway. I opened my eyes, I engaged my brain, and my spirit danced. I received reassurance I was not alone... none of us are truly alone. Some days it is harder to see than others... but we are never alone. As the song says in "Into the Woods":

"Sometimes people leave you
halfway through the Wood...
Don't let parting grieve you--
No one's gone for good!
You are not alone...."

Good rest to you, David dear... and good grief to you, dear Alex. May God fill the wait with many graces, and help you find your voice once more!

On the Passing of Colleagues

2007-05-22T11:37:00.001-04:00

We've all heard the old sayings: tell your friends now that you love them, don't wait until your only option is to send flowers to their funeral... if you cannot say something nice about someone, say nothing at all... do not speak ill of the dead... we've all probably got a million of 'em. We also tend to think of them when someone has passed away--think of them for good or ill, depending on circumstance.

When the deceased is beloved, words come rather easily. Fairly recently I lost two very dear friends--one a colleague in the world of writing, the other in the world of religion. Both are so easy to talk about; so easy to think that they are just around the corner or are at home awaiting a phone call. The hard part is thinking of them as promoted into the Choir Invisible, the cloud of witnesses that surround us all in spirit, in memory, and in heart. I know they're there; I cannot conceive of circumstances that would deny either of them. But they're not HERE, with us. I cannot call, cannot drop an e-mail, cannot stop by on my way somewhere else to pass a precious few hours in their company. Grief attends that concept, but it is muted with joy: they are past pain, they are free of fleshly encumbrances, they are dancing with God. Not a bad deal! We sorrow, but not as those who have no hope.

When the deceased is not necessarily beloved (at least not of myself!), words take longer. Perhaps we are taking that socially-mandated pause to ponder... if I cannot speak nicely, I should remain silent... but sometimes one must speak, because another living loved one is standing before us, or is on the other end of the phone line or e-mail server, hoping for a reply, waiting for wisdom. Death, after all, engages way too many neurons in us. It makes us weep or exult, depending... it stops us in our tracks. Even if it comes at the end of illness, there is still a slammed-door finality that hurts. "What do you mean, he's... gone?? I just talked to him this morning!"

And Lord knows... when it hits without warning Death is like taking that door right in the face in a physical sense. It feeds into so many things: myriad layers of guilt, anger, sorrow, shame, pain, tears. I can recall from many years ago the death of a friend whose spouse was left behind, suddenly and without any warning. As they say in the army, he went from duty to deceased in the blink of an eye: a stroke took him and he was gone from us before his body folded to the floor. So many who knew the couple expected there would be, amid all the other sensations, a feeling of relief for the survivor--for this couple had argued like cats and dogs with attitude many times, often quite publicly, over the years. The spouse's tearful, heartbroken response to everyone's surprise at their sorrow was an exclamation of pain: "But we didn't finish the argument!"

The nervous laughter that greeted this outcry occasioned more distress--and we began to realize how little we had known them, separately and together, despite all the years of history represented in their relationship. It was far more complicated than that they had loved to argue--for though there was an almost sport-like sense to it, they were loud, bitter arguments full of hurtful episodes. In the end it turned out that screaming and hurting was the only way they knew to communicate the meaningful things of their lives--which of course was another whole layer of pain in itself. It brought home with a vengeance the concept that sometimes the public face of those we love (or hate) is not always the True Self--in fact I would go so far as to say it very seldom is.

Recently a major religious figure passed away. Quite a lot of humour was leveled at the situation: now he'll find out if he was right... Look out, Heavenly Debating Society... Boy will HE be surprised.... The punch line is that we will never know his reaction, because... frankly, it's none of our business. How disappointing! A public figure of controversy--and we don't get to know how it all turns out in the end??

I would like to submit a thought on that score. I was not fond of him, and often (frequently painfully!) disagreed with him. In my opinion he had a tendency to speak without thinking; his words sometimes caused pain in many places and people, and occasioned much rolling of eyes. He prompted a bumper sticker that would have made me cringe, had I been the cause of it: "I love Jesus, it's His fan club I have issues with!" (Echoes of Matthew chapter 18 come immediately to mind, with great sorrow...) But at the end of the day, he was a human being--flawed, thoughtless, amazingly unkind from time to time despite his vocation and his education.

He was... human.

Just like me.

Just like you.

I think of the marvelous Jesus of Nazareth movie made several years ago by Franco Zeffirelli. The scene where the adulteress is literally dragged before Jesus by the mob is particularly memorable. We've all read it in scripture, but somehow seeing it on the screen brought an immediacy to it all: the terror-stricken woman with her running mascara and kohl from tears of panic; the furious crowd, some with leers, some with looks of triumph at bringing down the sinner... and Jesus, sitting off to one side toying with pebbles and stones. They demand his judgment: Rabbi, shall we stone her? She was caught in the act, taken in adultery! The Law demands....

Jesus sits there for rather a long moment, not looking up; the camera lingers lovingly on his strong hands as he plays with stones. Then he utters that one unanswerable truth: "Let one without sin cast the first stone." There is a moment of silence; some muttering... then rocks begin to fall from hands, and the crowd either stomps off or wanders away, some angry, some bitter, some amused, some just stunned by the implication. Not the least, the woman who was caught in the act... It is a powerful image, a powerful utterance--and a daunting thing to contemplate. Thus I shall keep my rocks to myself, because I know for a fact there's no WAY I am without sin.

Lately a couple of particular concepts keep floating through theological discussions I have had with folks: 1) that Jesus came into the world because God needed first-hand comprehension of what we were going through, in order to be able to save us from ourselves, and 2) that if we were perfect and never did wrong, we would not require the grace that saves us. The Recently Departed Person (tm) was a Christian; a believer. He had heard and studied the word of God, had made his informed decision, confessed the faith that was in him, and thus was saved. Jesus understands this man far better than thee or me could ever do--and in my heart of hearts I believe this man is now in the company of the Elect.

To believe any other thing would make it very hard for me to wrap my brain around my own personal hope of salvation; just because I haven't made my stupid moves as publicly as this man, doesn't mean I haven't made them. I have said things that could very easily have set people on the path away from Christ; I have hurt people, sometimes intentionally, and while I have dealt with those situations early or late, I regret them deeply. It is at times like these that I bless God all the more for Jesus's painful, bloody field trip into this life and death, because without that I have no great confidence that I could bluff my way alone inside the Pearly Gates.

If you believe in karma and reincarnation, I suspect you also believe nothing happens for no good reason. Whatever the choices this man made for the life he just completed, he made them because they needed to be made. We may never know the whys of it, just as we don't always know until Checkout Time why some of our own choices were made or why they turned out as they did. We could stretch and say that maybe somewhere, some impressionable child with a Destiny needed to hear a thoughtless, prejudicial remark in order to think it through and make some important conclusion--or, just as likely, someone somewhere needed to have the touchstone of prayer or healing offered publicly by this man in order not to commit suicide so they could be present for some important turning point or action. The ramifications descend from both possibilities like dominoes or water... we'd be here forever if we tried to think them all through.

But all he did, for good or ill, is now marked complete. The book is closed--for him personally. Was he a great man? Did he leave us object lessons, was he a good example or a bad one? I have my thoughts on that, but I hold them within out of deference to the fact that I don't have all the answers--and because I am hoping for the same loving, sanctifying, saving grace that redeemed his soul. Both of the dear friends I have recently lost would probably have offered (each in their own particular unique idiom!) their thoughts on it all--and in the end would have come to the same conclusion: What is done is done, and those of us left behind have to move on. If you loved and lost, and you do good because of his example--that's a good thing. If you loathed and lost, and do good despite his example--that's a good thing too. Just do it mindfully, I beg of you!

Embrace your humanity, forgive as you would be forgiven... then take a moment to call or write to a friend you have not seen in a while. Death comes like a thief in the night, like a lover, like summer lightning... you might have until Father's Day, or their birthday, or the high school reunion--or you might lose someone today.

Or you might go yourself.

It's worth a thought, after all....

In Service,
Rev. Sharon +

Let's Try This Again...

2007-04-26T10:33:00.000-04:00

*wry smile* Well... sometimes when life gets complicated, one's brain core-dumps--and I can no longer find my old blog. I've tried every means to re-create or unearth it, but for the moment, here we are. :-)

So, to re-introduce myself: I'm Rev. Sharon, a priest in the Independent Catholic Movement in the US. The church with which I am incardinated is Celtic in expression, which suits me right down to the ground. The parish I'm in charge of (more on that as the days go by!) is St. Brigid of the Gaels; because the physical parish downsized dramatically, I'm going to try an online incarnation. Should be interesting!

I'm a liturgist and heavily into recreational theology; I guess I'm also something of a liberal traditionalist. Whatever does THAT mean, I hear you cry? Stick around... like any good exegetical thing, the concept will reveal itself!

Blessings on you all; may your week be going well, and may your weekend be even better!

in service,
Rev. Sharon

Another Loose Canon

The Theological Implications of Rollercoasters

Memories, Memories Friday Five

Sometimes... Things Break...

Finding God's Mercy

Things That Make You Go Hmmm...

Ends of Eras

Oh Look, She Lives....

Friday Five: Autumnal Equinox

Friday Five Goes Back to School...

Friday Five: Vulnerability

Friday Five: Summer Reading

Friday Five: Word Association

A Soul Goes Home

I Have Decided...

Radio Show Tonight!

Whew, What a Week....

Internet Radio Adventures....

Borrowed from Singing Owl:

Your Score: Rabbit

You scored 14 Ego, 15 Anxiety, and 17 Agency!

Sometimes You've Just Gotta Rant...

Living Lent in the Fast Lane...

Friday Five: Time and Transitions

Friday Five: Yay, It's Winter!!

Friday Five: It's All About Books!

Friday Five: Las Mañanitas

So, Where WERE You??

How Did It Get to Be 2008 Already???

Friday Five: If I Were Food....

Been Gone Too Long...

Friday Five: Word Association

Yoda Bumps

Been Gone a While...

Friday Five: Oh Boy It's Summer!!!

Friday Five... Ahhh, Books!!

I've Been Tagged! :-)

My First Friday Five...

Okay, St. Anthony, I *GET* It... :-)

Open Eyes, Engage Brain...

On the Passing of Colleagues

Let's Try This Again...

Okay, St. Anthony, I GET It... :-)