STABILITY

Our lives are troubled and fraught with difficulties, challenges, and, oh my gosh --change. In every generation. Those behind me face the problems that some of us are escaping. Those ahead of me, although there are not all that many any more, are facing the end times and resolution with their present and past. Technology mushrooms. The environment? Who knows. The financial situation is disastrous. And on and on.

No wonder that we seek some stability for our lives. And so we turn to the church for the sameness that will offer solace and peace. Surprise! The church is not the same. And trying to make it the same is causing it to die. And those that don't want it to die are struggling to find new ways. It is hard. Jan Edmiston's blog has been addressing this issue in the church where she serves for quite a while. Yesterday's blog spelled out many of the stumbling blocks that we face. Do go read it here. It is also worth reading the links to which she points.

The struggles with an emerging church in a staid congregation sets up an "us/them" situation. And this in itself is not healthy and, worse yet, not pastoral. But what to do? This morning as I was thinking through some of these things, I realized that God is the sameness. God is what we are all seeking. And yet.... I think that some have embedded "God" in the rituals of old. Somehow God is lost in the trappings of the sameness that we hold so dear.

Perhaps we will find a way to release God from the bondage we have created and thereby set ourselves free to know the living God once again.

PROMISES OF SPRING

The snow has melted, the ground is soggy, and the air is warm. Time to start thinking about yard clean up and plants and containers and all that good stuff. spent some time today looking through some container gardening books and then walking the yard to see what was and what is now and what might be.

Bill cut the butterfly bushes back. Just in time before they start sending out new growth. I hate cutting new growth. He also cut a couple of branches out of the Japanese Maple or maybe it's a Chinese Maple, don't know. There are still more branches that need removing but there is always another day. Then when I was carting all the branches out back to pitch over the fence, I found these lovely little green sprouts poking up through the rich brown earth.

Ah, I said to my self. And 'ah' again. How green, how tender, how young and fragile and vulnerable. And how much these dainty little creatures give me hope. Spring is coming.

THE ICE OF WINTER

It was only twenty this morning when I went out for the paper. And there is still plenty of snow. And, of course, all the water in my pretzel containers have turned to ice. Well, they have been ice for a while, because they have been on the deck for a while.

Ever since reading The Road by Cormac McCarthy, I have been super conscious about our use of water. Bill would say I am over conscientious, even obsessive. I have been known to just turn off the water when he is rinsing out the sink. And I go bananas when he rinses dishes before putting them in the dishwasher. This water conservation effort isn't new with me. I used to siphon the kid's bathwater out to the lawn. Here in the northeast we have nasty dry periods.

Since The Road this water obsession has led to the saving of water in many ways. The water run until shower temperature is reached is a considerable amount of water. The water from rinsing out the coffee pot is quite acceptable for plants as is the water from cleaning vegetables. We save it in big Utz pretzel containers. There are containers in the bathrooms, in the kitchen, wherever there are plants, and eventually the overflow makes it out to the deck. We have LOTS of jars of water. We also had a great amount of rain this fall and winter so that the containers were not emptied. So, I have jugs and jugs of water -- ice in the ones on the deck.
And a fascinating formation of ice. There is a cone of ice in the center, surrounded by ice. And I don't know which froze first the cone or what surrounds the cone. Whatever, there will be water for plants when the time comes.

THE LION OF MARCH

There was a dusting of snow when I took my seven pound shih tzu, Gabriel, for his last walk of the day. As is my current custom, I then settled into bed to read for a bit. The dragon novel that I have been enjoying just wasn't holding my attention so I turned out the light and snuggled down under the blankets. It was some time before I fell into a light sleep. I kept coming into consciousness and opening my eyes and finding it light. Each time I checked the clock, each time is was still night time.

Finally, I got out of bed and went downstairs to turn out the lights that I had obviously left on. Only there were no lights on. The world, however, was very light. In fact there was a pink glow to the neighborhood the origin of which I never located. Surmising that this was some sort of reflection off the snow, I went back to bed, finally, to sleep, awakening at the normal time.

I don't consider that March came to us like a lion because it must have been a very gentle snow. There were six to eight inch high gatherings of snow on fence tops and even narrow porch railings. LOTS and LOTS of snow. Beautiful white snow. Covering the whole of my immediate world.

Gabriel, being only a few inches high, had a difficult time finding just the right places for his morning ritual. Heretofore, the snows have been heavy enough that he could manage walking on top. This snow was way to soft. Nature won out though, but he was not happy.

Here he is, my Lion of March

MARCH NEWSLETTER

There is always a "panic" feeling in the pit of my stomach just as I click on the "send" button to dispatch the newsletter. Even though I have gone over it a kazillion times and even had top notch proofing done for me, it is still a scary feeling. What if something is really wrong? What if it is ALL wrong? It happens. There is always something amiss or awry.

This is one of the ministries in my life that somehow just happened. In fact, the happening was more in the way of my volunteering. For an interim period. Interim is stretching -- it is well over a year now. It is not the newsletter that it could be; it is the newsletter that I can do. And really all I do is format and edit. Once in a while I write a piece. Not often.

And truth be told, the newsletter is not read. Not by many anyway. How do I know? I know. And how does that make me feel? Actually, as soon as the "panic" feeling disappears -- and that is seconds -- I consider it a done deal and turn my attention to the next project. Knowing that I have done the best that I am able, and in a timely fashion is enough. It is a worthwhile ministry for me.

HOWEVER, if someone were to come along and say, "Hey, you know, I really would like to take on the newsletter," I would be ecstatic. A new look, fresh energy, modern thinking, all would be good. Until then.................