from the shore

I'm at the shore.  Just been watching clouds and 'saw' a turtle, a bird, and a porpoise in the sky.  Can't remember when I last did that! 

The ocean is so relentless.  I'm fascinated by the way  it writes on the sand it's own messages with gullies and dimples and ridges and blocks of what I can only describe as cheeks (as in face cheeks!). 

Shells have been numerous resulting, I  guess, from recent storms churning them up.  I'm fascinated by their past lives as the homes of various sea creatures.   Year after year, I find the same shapes and colors most of the time.  I still collect the odd ones.  I  wonder:  Are these the 'custom homes'  of this particular beach on the Atlantic Coast of the USA? 

Unusual this year:  Gravel beds have grown as well on their way to becoming sand, I guess.

Other musings:  The ocean as an image of the constancy, power,  and relentlessness of God's love to shape a human life.  Unlike the shells or the gravel or the jelly fish, we can resist or say 'no', 'I won't' to God's desire to instill us with His own grace that can break down  our sinfulness and eliminate the wounds of a lifetime, setting us free to love and forgive.

It's not morning...

It's not morning, so can this be a 'morning musing'?  Does it count that I thought about writing here this morning????

It's so beautiful.  The warmth of the last few days has melted all the remaining snow.  Our balmy weathy betrays the fact that today is February 18 and winter will surely return.  Yesterday and today have been sweet reminders that spring will come! 

The eyes have it

Yesterday we had one of those cold, windy all day rains that, for me, always mark the end of Fall.  It was a beautiful day, though.  The season's oranges, yellows, and reds vividly popped out against the gray sky.

Everywhere I went,  people grumbled about the weather.  Except for Jeanie.  I sat at her kitchen table with her looking outside,  and she said:  "I've always loved days like this.  My husband and I often would head out with our cameras on days like this.  It's so beautiful."

She could see what so many could not.

God's love is like that:  a bright spot of hope in the midst of life's storms for those who (as Scripture says) "have eyes to see".

Lord, give me an open heart to see you everywhere.  Mother Teresa

An act of hope

Yesterday I began planting spring bulbs.  I read recently that to do so is the ultimate act of hope.  Into the darkness of the earth I placed each bulb nestling it into a cocoon of anti-squirrel/vole soil conditioner with a sprinkling of fertilizer.  I re-covered them with soil and watered them. 

Now I wait until the sun's rays lengthen and warmth returns to the northern hemisphere.

This morning, I questioned myself:  Did you plant them deep enough?  Did you add the proper amount of nutrient -- not too much or too little?     Will the bulbs blossom and fill my garden with red and yellow, pink and lavender?  Did you do enough?

Today's Psalm reads:  "The Lord is my light and my salvation, of whom shall I be afraid?"   I've been meditating on the Lord as my light that illumines the path, shines into the darkness of discouragement, warms my heart and encourages growth, and  quiets every nagging worry.

Some days I ask myself:  Where is the light today?  I can't see the way.  Why does my heart feel so cold?  Where is the warmth of God's love?  Will this or that in my life resolve happpily?

Just like with the bulbs placed into the earth, my soul must wait on the Lord.  I must put my trust in him in pleasant weather and during the storms, during the daylight and the night.

Too often the only person I trust is me. 

Long experience testifies to the foolishness of that choice.

Halloween

A few houses in our neighborhood have been decked out for Halloween: tombstones abound as well as skeletons.  I've even seen a celtic cross, coffins, ghosts hanging from trees, and lots of spider webs.  Worst of all, to my mind, are the huge spiders draped over door ways.  Why or why?  Yuck!

Gordon Lightfoot Beautiful

I was first introduced to the Canadian singer Gordon Lightfoot when I was 14 or 15.  His lyrics and voice still move me.  This is one of my favorites, along with "Rainy Day People".  Here are the lyrics; you can hear it on "Ilike"

Rainy day people always seem to know when it's time to call.


Rainy day people don't talk

they just listen till they've heard it all.

Rainy day lovers don't lie when they tell you

they've been down like you.

Rainy day people don't mind if you're cryin' a tear or two.



If you get lonely, all you really need is that rainy day love.

Rainy day people all know there's no sorrow

they can't rise above.

Rainy day lovers don't love any others

that would not be kind.

Rainy day people all know how it hangs

on their peace of mind.

Rainy day people always seem to know

when you're feelin' blue

I steps and stutters around in the gutters

sometimes need one, too.

Take it or leave it or try to believe it,

f you've been down too long,

Rainy day lovers don't hide love inside, they just pass it on.

Yesterday I was stunned to learn that my favorite singer/songwriter was born in 1933.  How could that be?  There are recent videos of him on Youtube, and like all the rest of us, age and illness have taken their toll. 

How I long for heaven where there will be "no more death or tears, no more sickness or sorrow..."

New sight, new eyes

I heard today that Michelangelo was roundly criticized when his Pieta was unveiled.  "Mary is too young, too beautiful, and too calm" said the naysayers. 

The artist replied that they were right, but it had been his intention.  He wanted, artistically, to demonstrate the Mary's faith and trust in God even at the end of the very worst day of her life.  And, Michelangelo continued,  he hoped to remind every person who ever viewed his work,  that they, also, could  trust God's love and goodness no matter what life brought their way.

For me, at least, works of art as famous as this one can become cliches.  I've seen it so many times I don't really look at it any more. 

More the pity! 

This story has given me new eyes not only for the Pieta but also into the life of faith.

Changing colors

Fall has finally arrived.   With the cooler breeze blowing through my hair, walking is pure joy. 

The summer's drought has many leaves turning brown and dropping already.  To my eyes, more trees look stressed or dying this year.

I hear distress from my neighbors in small comments that reflect anxiety about our nation's current economic problems.  I know some who're unemployed, some who've lost their homes to foreclosure, and many who are actively preparing for a future they fear.  One person, nearing retirement, said to me last week:  "I'm going to working till I die just to survive."

These realities and fears feel like a drought of hope.

For I know the plans I have for you, says the Lord, plans for a future full of hope.  Jeremiah 29:11

The universe -- an accident????

An accident?

I just read on Yahoo News that Stephen Hawking recently wrote

Because there is a law such as gravity, the universe can and will create itself from nothing. Spontaneous creation is the reason there is something rather than nothing, why the universe exists, why we exist."

It is not necessary to invoke God to light the blue touch paper and set the universe going."

I hope the author of the piece has edited Hawking inappropriately. His conclusion begs the question (and I find it difficult to believe Hawking doesn't address it himself): Where did gravity come from (not to mention all the other natural laws which govern not only the earth but the universe)?

Today is the feast of St. Gregory the Great. He said:

Read the Scriptures and know God's mind.

In the eye of the storm

Hurricane Earl, bearing down on the east  coast, fills the airwaves today.  Millions of lives disrupted as they prepare for the worst and hope for the best.

How fortunate to have the benefit of advanced warning.  Despite interuption and inconvenience, we in the first world have the grace, which those in the developing world do not,  of prior warning.  Technology provides time to prepare and to avoid nature's fury, if one chooses.

Through the scriptures, church, faith, and sacred tradition God provides an early warning system for preparing to weather the storms of  our spirits.  Ignored them, ridiculed them (and those who heeded them), denied them, and finally named 'my own truth' based on my intelligence and education -- I've done it all at one time or another.


I've traveled many roads to at last surrender and say, "Jesus, I trust in you."  Implicit is a decision to do my best to obey, simply obey.  No excuses, no rationalization.  (Two things I'm quite accomplished at.)

By the light of the silvery moon...

It's still dark now when I get up with the dogs at 6 or so.  The last few mornings the moon has been up.  It's waning now, but it was full and so bright it shone through our skylight like a spotlight.  Luminous against the clear sky, I wanted to stay out until it set, which isn't very long at all at that time of the morning. It seemed as if I turned my eyes away just briefly and it was out of sight.  I wanted to hold on, but the moon had its own plans for the morning.

Carpe diem.

The eyes have it

For the first time in 6 weeks, I'm able to put my contacts in.  They make all the difference not only in my sight, but in eye comfort.  Even though I've had them in almost 2 hours this first day, my eyes feel better than without.  What joy the seemingly small things  -- the abilities we take for granted (like seeing without pain) -- bring.  Reminds me to live gratefully.

Which reminds me of Alexander McCall Smith's "The Art of Gratitude".  It's a very gentle mystery with philosopher-sleuth Isabel Dalhousie at center stage.  I really liked it and its' premise that people are not simple and are rarely what we think.  Rings true to me.

I'm also reading G.K. Chesterton's "The Man Who Was Thursday."  My only familiarity with Chesterton was the Father Brown mysteries -- delightful reading.  I'm discovering that Chesterton was quite a man of letters and quite politically astute.  Thursday is one of 7 Brits (named for the days of the week) planning anarchy against France.  Will they succeed?    My edition is annotated and good thing, it's challenging reading but with the notes quite a romp through philosophy, British history, the geography of London, and the politics of anarchy and the absurd.

Sight restored to the blind

Since my last entry, I've struggled with a viral eye infection, which is just about healed. I've listened to quite a few books on cd while stuck at home; the funniest of the lot was "Ladies of the Lake".

The infection came on the heels of a visit to Louisville to celebrate my Mom's 80th' birthday. I enjoyed the time with my family and was incredibly glad I had that memory to tide me through recovery.

The drive from Virginia to Kentucky offers beautiful mountain vistas. What a treat!

Water me!

As temps reach into the high 90's (and above), watering my tomato plants, herbs, flowers and roses has become part of my morning ritual. If I forget, they show it by 4 p.m. wilting pitifully.

We need spiritual watering every day or we, too, wilt under the heat of the day's demands and stresses, even its joys and successes.

Dear God, water me!

Farm report

I harvested my first 2 tomatoes over the holiday weekend. They're tiny and have end rot, but they're still mine! I salvaged what I could and made bruschetta. Dinner guests swore they could taste the home grown among the store bought. :-)

I also harvested basil and made pesto. If Italian grandmothers could make it without a food processor, so can I! It too about 30 minutes of chopping but was worth it. Really good.

Jesus said, "The harvest is ready. Send harvesters into the fields..." What good is growth unless it's put to good use? Even tomatoes with end rot have value, and so does every person. How will God use me today, harvest the growth that's been nurtured over the years in me?

Independence Day 2010

We sang "America, the Beautiful" at the end of Mass this morning. I'm not an overly patriotic person, but that song stirs in me pride in my country and hopes for our future. It reminds me of the faith of our founders and the prayer that undergirded their efforts toward independence. Singing of "purple mountain majesty" reminds me of the mountain vistas that have taken my breath away. "The fruited plain" reminds me of the agricultural communities in which I've lived and how beautiful those fields were in the heart of summer. We Americans have so much for which to be grateful. We take too much for granted and pray too little for our future.

At least I do.

An exorcism

Yesterday, every time I typed a topic into a search engine, full page advertisements appeared. I told the resident computer expert (David) that my computer was demon possessed. He asked: "What have you been doing?"

Innocent little me? Honestly, I don't know. But somehow thirty-four run-of-the-mill little demons and one big ol' bad devil of a root virus had not only taken up residence, but organized a coup. This machine was no longer 'mine'.

Who did this? Why create mayhem for an anonymous stranger? How can someone, presumably, find pleasure in that?

It's beyond me.

However, I do know: If it weren't for David's expertise, I'd still be wandering around in the wilderness of annoying, unwanted advertisements.

Our lives can be taken over, too, by habits and ways of thinking that destroy our lives and the lives of others. God has given us a way out, in effect leading us out of the wilderness of self-destruction. Through Christ, God rescues and restores us. How cool is that?

Sitting in the shade

I have a flower box on the deck in which small flowers were planted. Right in the middle of the box, a plant with one huge leaf has grown. That leaf is twice the size of any of the plants in the box.

I've resisted yanking it out. It's whimsical for one thing, who leaves a huge weed that takes up residence unannounced???

But every time I look at it I'm reminded of Jonah. Having successfully preached a message of repentance, Jonah wasn't happy. Go figure! But the truth is, he didn't want the Ninevites to repent; he wanted to see God destroy them. So, pouting and angry, he sat down to nurse his grievance. God caused a vine to grow up and provide shade for Jonah. (Jonah 4:5ff) God wanted him to be comfortable while he pouted! (That thought makes me laugh.)

After 24 hours, the vine died. As it shrivelled, Jonah's wrath grew.

God had not done what Jonah expected God to do. News flash! God doesn't need our guidance! (However, I confess, I'm apt to give it anyway!) And (believe it or not) I've been know to pout.

God waits patiently for us to come around and yield. The book of Jonah gives no evidence that he did. That's sad, isn't it? If Jonah could not accept God's mercy for others, could he really accept it for himself?

Listen and Hear

I am amazed anew at how frequently God meets me right where I am. Most recently, I attended a half day retreat. When I arrived, a substitute speaker and topic were the order of the day. Only afterwards, on my way home, it hit me: His message addressed exactly what I've been wrestling with for weeks.

I believe such serendipities reveal God's love and concern. I have a hunch it happens all the time and I miss the message because I'm preoccupied with what I expect or want.

The prayer of the young Samuel, Speak Lord, your servant is listening, echoes in my thoughts and prayers.

Harden not your hearts

Well, as you might guess, as I haven't written in more than 2 weeks, the cold became a serious sinus infection. I finished the antibiotic several days ago and all that remains is a dry cough. Hurray!

On another front, Friday's xray of my ankle/leg revealed significant healing. I concluded physical therapy that day, too. Joy abounds!

In between, I cruised in for my annual visit to my oncologist. All is well. I am so, so, so grateful.

My container garden is flourishing. One tomato plant has 11 tomatoes on it. Apparently, they love this hot and humid weather. The flowers and herbs are doing well, too, especially the basil. I want to try making pesto.

David just returned from a long stint in Texas which ended with his step-father's death. The last six months were pure agony. We mourn his absence, but truly death set him free.

I preached twice last week at the nursing home. I enjoy tailoring a message to the elderly and infirm and I think it shows.

The message? Nothing can separate us from God's love and mercy except ourselves. God will forgive anything if we can bring ourselves to admit we've done wrong and ask. That's all. God wants to welcome us as beloved daughters and sons into the family.

Why, oh why, do we so often refuse?