TRANSITION/TRANSFORMATION

I have avoided talking about "my" church on this blog because it is listed on the "Resource" page of our web site and I was uncomfortable really speaking my mind for all those parishioners to read. BUT, as you notice, I have not posted in over a month. My prayer and ponder time is pretty much focused on the health and well being of my parish and the ability to express that was being stifled by this feeling of exposure. And so I am not going to hold back any longer. I am going to put it out here for any and all to read. Read and respond -- with respect, dignity and integrity for all who choose to share

We have made the transition of healing from our past life into this new life with our new priest. She is titled "Priest-in-Charge" because we are not financially stable enough to call a rector. We are drawing down our endowment at an alarming rate -- all things being equal we will be out of endowment by mid 2011 and will have to close our doors. (I think I got that right. Anyone reading may make a correction of this statement.) That does not give us very much time for transformation.

Many in our parish are still into the thinking that whatever we do going forward is to save Grace Church. OR, even worse, fix Grace Church. It isn't about paying the oil bill and the electric bill and putting on a new roof. It isn't about pulling in more people to help share the financial load. It's about US. Too many of us are not willing to look to ourselves, individually and collectively, and see that WE, we persons, we Christians, are the ones that need saving. So many of us have decided that we're done. DONE? How can that be? How can we sit in the pews Sunday after Sunday with the smug, snug feeling that we have done whatever we needed to have done. WRONG!!!

There is more. There is always more. More to learn: a deeper experience of God; a closer relationship with neighbor -- pewmate, lifemate, workmate, streetmate; a sense of responsibility to our own small community, and even more to the community outside our doors. AND there is more than Sunday worship. Of the 168 hours of our week we spend 1.25 at worship. Of the 166.75 remaining hours, how many do each of us give to ministry? I'm talking about 'in-house' ministry and the ministry we do in our week-day lives. Do the math, make a pie chart. Be accountable to yourself.

This is only a beginning. I'm just getting started.

SUBLIMINAL CHANGES

Changes sneak into our routine without us really noticing. Because Bill is no longer driving a school bus, we no longer have to get moving so early in the day. Nature has taken over the awakening role in my life. It begins about four fifteen in the morning. A single chirp. An answering chirp. A reply. It isn't long before other cheeps and chirps join in. By four thirty to four forty five there is a great symphony of bird sounds. Then even more join until there is a great crescendo of sound which continues until well past five and then slowly settles to a more quiet and infrequent exchange.

I lie abed and wonder what they can be saying to one another. It is such a joyous commotion. I wish that I might have such a choir of acquaintances. Then again -- not. I am too private a person. But I do love to eavesdrop on these early morning beings. I snuggle into my pillow and listen. I listen also for the resident coo coo to announce the time. I no longer have to get up before six. I can if I want to. Don't have to. Such a luxury.

Many days I choose to get up with the birds and have my morning coffee in the quiet of the morning. Read the paper. Do the daily sudoku puzzle. It is a different routine from six months ago. I like it. The change is good.

For another insight on morning sounds and memories check out Barbara Crafton's e-mo over at Geranium Farm.

MAY 31, 2008

I am crawling out of May like the groundhog from her hole on February 2. There is light and there is shadow. Shall I crawl back in for another six weeks or shall I stay and make the best of it? Have I had enough 'down' time or need I take more? It would feel really, really good to crawl back into the comfort of that hole, but I am not seeing a benefit.

Somehow, I feel the need to stay. Make some changes, but stay all the same. The following came to me this morning during reflection time:

it is the last of the days of May
my world is lush with green
and the flowering of spring.
May is the month of hope and promise
and I have used this time to retreat
into the innermost part of my being.
there have been days and days of seeming waste
and yet that time was rest and renewal.

it is in the quiet times that I feel God's Presence.
my quiet, not the quiet of the world,
and I am slow to awaken to the obvious.
God demands this quiet time.
time to be.....

PAY ATTENTION, BARB!!!

When I got on the scales this morning I weighed one hundred and twenty eight pounds. One twenty is a good weight for me. One twenty five is a wee bit over the top. One twenty eight is beyond reason. I haven't been paying attention. I have been wallowing in circumstances that make me believe that God is present with me. Shocking. Humbling. More than a little scary.

Well, duh, God is ALWAYS present with each of us ALL the time. But I have been feeling a physical indication that God is with me -- now. I just don't know what to make of that. I am numb with unbelief and yet I believe. I don't want to put it into words because it might go away -- and how egotistic is that? OR it might be more. And so I ponder. I contemplate. I pace. I try to understand. And most of all I pray.

Perhaps this Presence of God that I am experiencing is an admonition to prayer. Worked, that's for sure. I find myself in prayer more and more times during the day. Sometimes conversation with God. Sometimes mental pictures. Many times just sensation. More often than not just 'being.'

But being with God cannot exclude being in the world -- at least not for now. And so I must learn to manage both/all. Gaining weight is both unhealthy and economically unwise as I have a simple wardrobe that fits one twenty to one twenty five. What was that lesson of being "in" the world and being "of" the world. Don't remember. But I do know for now that I need to acknowledge this Presence of God in the world in which I exist and must function on a daily basis.

Close my lips. Accept less food. Be prudent. But above all, give thanks for the presence of God.

HOLDING PATTERN

I am in a spiritual holding pattern, drifting somewhat easily, trying to discern what it is that God is trying to tell me -- or not. There are a lot of key words in that sentence. Maybe they are all key. The good news is that it is mostly a comfortable place to be. But I don't want to get too comfortable.

And there is a niggling to be more actively exploring. Exploring what? Good question. I asked for and was given a few books to peruse and have chose one -- Joyce Rupp's "Dear Heart, Come Home - A Path of Midlife Spirituality." The 'midlife' part held me back at the beginning. I mean, here I am at seventy, well beyond midlife. BUT, if you subtract the thirty years that I opted out of anything religious, theological, or spiritual I am about right, I guess. And then, of course, I have those thirty years of observing life that must account for something.

At the beginning of the preface of this book there is a poem by Joyce Rupp. I read it several times before I chose the book. I have read it a kazillion times since; copied it out and keep it here on my desk. It is a jumping off place. Not a starting place because as I said in a previous post, the beginning was probably ever so long ago. It is a continued search.

At the end of each chapter there are what Rupp refers to as 'simmering times.' Suggestions on how one might contemplate the material in that chapter. Some are ideas to journal, or paint or sketch, some are just for thinking or discussing with a friend or a chosen group. The one that popped out at me is "Search within to see if you have any fears of going inward." OUCH! You mean look at myself -- the deep down self?

My very first thought was, Well, yeah, I have fears. What if I look inward and don't like what I see? Now THAT is scary. OR, worse yet, what if I look inward and nothing is there. Well, I am hoping these are my worst thoughts. I am going to continue to contemplate this search within and how I feel about it.

BREAK THROUGH

God has broken through my spiritual drought. The Presence of God is at hand and I am at once startled and comforted, unsettled and pacified. God is. That much is certain. But what does it mean and what is expected and how do I proceed? Big questions.

An IPod comes with a detailed instruction manual. So does a lawn mower, and so does a jig saw. There are no instructions that come with this Presence. Jeffri says I need a burning bush. I would be happy to awaken one morning to words scrawled across the wall that say ' now do this......,' but neither is going to happen. I am going to have to figure it out somehow -- or not. I can only liken it to a marriage. Each day is a new day and we figure it out as it comes -- or not. The 'or not' option is troubling. I do not want there to be an or not. I want there to be fruition, progression, growth, continuing enlightenment, and above all, goodness. Please, God, let there be goodness.

Prayer comes to me easily now. And often. Not formal prayer. Mostly not even words. Feelings, a knowledge that God is with me and I am with God. Images too. Images of those for whom I pray. And energy. Energy to and fro and all over the place, connecting my prayer and God and my prayer people. The most astounding experience. Hard to put into words. Reluctant to put it out here. But for those who know and see and believe, those of you who experience God, you will know. You will believe.

I am now into the middle of a journey. The beginning began so long ago that I don't remember it. If it was even 'my' beginning. Beginnings are a myth, I think. Except for the WORD. I believe this was the true beginning. All other beginnings after that were probably 'middles.' There are probably no forks in the road just as there are no going backs in life. The choice is how we move forward.

That is the current dilemma -- how to move forward, how to work with this Presence in my life. A dear friend tells me that this is too new to be thinking about any whys or hows. So I think I will just be with it for now. Experience it. Rest in it as I did the drought. Experience it but don't get too comfortable. The way may be easy but, frankly, the yoke is NOT light. The yoke is the yoke of responsibility and that is not easy.

And so this is more journey. I really have come to dislike this term that is bandied about in the jargon of the church. But it IS a journey. And I have this feeling that it is not going to be an easy one. It will be fraught with emotional and spiritual challenges. There will doubts. There will be denials. There will be confrontations with the past and the self. I am at once daunted and excited for that which is to come.

SPIRITUAL DROUGHT

It happens sometimes. The spirit just seems to not be there. For a great long period this time. I haven't written pages forever. No prayer before sleep. No thankful awakening prayer. No formal prayer at all. Not even Celtic prayers. No relevant spiritual reading. Not much of anything.

And I haven't fought to get it either. In the past I would delve into something I felt should be in place. Prayer beads. Palm cross. Daily Office. Morning pages. All those practices that I thought were supposed to make me a spiritual person. All plastic. Once in awhile I would fall into good prayer but it was not a lasting thing. Did the candle lighting thing. Made a quiet 'sacred' space. Nothing was lasting.

Today I was able to name it -- Spiritual Drought. And face it too. Here it is. Here I am. I seem to have been here for longer than I have been aware. It is not a very comfortable place to be. But here I am. And I have decided to not fight it this time. Just be in it. Allow myself to feel it and to lean back into the tension that is here.

Eventually there will be a spark that will ignite my inner core. I will nurture it. I will make it mine