You can go home

Yesterday I attended a funeral at my former church in Winston-Salem - St. Anne's, once known as the Pizza Hut on the Hill because of its roofline. Now, trees have obscured that detail, and a beautiful community building adjoins the church and day school. My partner helped create the interior of that community building before we moved away. I had returned to that church only once - to bury my god-son, Bill, a Vietnam Vet with COPD and a few years older than me.Now I returned to bury a friend, lost some years ago to Alzheimer's.

I walked into the past. The rector who sped my departure was gone, but everything else seemed the same. A few new faces, but the core remained. Everyone sat in their regular places; the choir sang familiar anthems; the retired choirmaster had returned; his wife played some of the anthems on the organ while the new young organist did the rest. The tri-fold board in the narthex was one that I had made. The music room is named in honor of my partner.

The peace pole has a few new pieces. The river birches are taller. The columbarium is still full of people whose graves I dug and whose ashes I placed. They hold the church secure, and we added one more avant garde lady to that assortment. May light perpetual shine upon them.

I cried. I cried for my own loss. And, in psychological terms, I processed a pain so that I can move along. My spiritual development was arrested when I fled; now I begin to feel the presence of God again. My lack of perception has been replaced with a quiet comfort and a gentle jogging: "Okay, back into the evangelism business, back into the pastoral care business." I call it business - because it is a busy-ness instead of the inertia of fear of being rejected, fear that I have failed.

Yet, yet, I knew that the desert time I had spent was essential. Prayer, theology, laughter with God and Godly people. Virtual pastoral care. Virtual evangelism. Not wasted time, but integrative, creative time walking humbly with my God.

Now the time is near for doing justice, assisting God in making the divine mercy recognized - mercy as the steadfast love of God - hesed in Hebrew. I will walk humbly with my God as I have done before, but I will add doing justice and loving mercy as I am physically and emotionally able. Thanks be to God.

Happy New Year 2010

It was a coolish and grey New Year's Eve when the barge nudged the bank at the boat landing near the house. We did not hear it arrive quietly in the morning hours. The big blue boat pushing the barge looked like a World War II landing ship with it prow that would open onto the bank. Large pilings were strapped to the sides of the barge, but all was quiet around it.

The dark water barely rippled under the ominous clouds that gathered. Rain would come. A stillness permeated the air and damp. No wind wiggled the tree limbs or leaves left on the myrtle. No fish jumped. No boats left their wake in the creek.

The house still held its Christmas decorations like failing spots of joy in the dismal day, but the tall pines stood starkly against the sky, silhouettes of summer days. And, deciduous trees poured upward like dark paint streaking toward the heavens. Birds kept to their nests in the dogwood trees.

The magnolias ignored the gloomy weather, the forthcoming rain and pushed their glossy leaves forward. The white camellia buds continued to ripen unharmed by the cold nights.

Inside, the Wii twinkled it upbeat tune. Cats dozed happily in chairs out of the swing of the controller. The phone was quiet. Knitting, reading, holding hands. A very good ending for the year. Happy New Year 2010.

Eagle

Here's the eagle sitting in the tree next door. I spotted him from the high window in my bathroom as I'm watching the osprey circle around.

My "off" day

"Off" - well, I've always been off a little bit - sometimes more than others. But, today is a day without any plans. I am off from work, off from obligations, off from appointments, off from most responsibilities.

However, since the laundry is now stacked over my head, not only clothes, but mattress covers, towels, blankets, sheets, and lots of clothes, I think I'll do some laundry. I'll sort it in the guest room so that I don't have to finish it today. I think tomorrow is an "off" day as well. LOL

Grandchildren are undoubtedly a blessing, but I'm grateful today that I don't have any - no children either, just Godchildren, and they all seem to be busy with their own lives lately. I would be thinking up things for the grandchildren and I to do together if I had any. And, I don't want to think. I don't want to be busy and out and about. I just want to be home.

What a blessing it is to have a home. I've been concerned lately about our homeless folk. I saw two police cars stopped on the by-pass (now a limited access road through our town) with two people and a shopping cart. The cart was almost empty; the people were shivering. I was on the other side of the median and when I turned around they were all gone, including the shopping cart. Perhaps these two people were homeless and sheltering in the small patch of woods alongside the by-pass. Perhaps the police had merely cautioned them about fires after checking their IDs (and I hope they had them). I would like to think that the police offered them a ride to the nearest shelter and the protection from the cold that offered. I pray that they find a way "home".

Too little blogging that's real

I don't consider memes, jokes, surveys and such as real blogging, but I guess they are. They all reflect a piece of me.

Recently I did a 3 day retreat on Spirituality, personality and change. Today I was putting away the books and materials that I used for that retreat, and I was reading some of the material about my own personality and spiritual type. I'm an ENTJ with a bit of ENFJ hiding in there somewhere. So, I'm a "fieldmarshal" with a bit of "teacher" wrapped in. The great organizer. ha From an early age they can be observed taking command of groups. ha, ha

Now this part seems true: "Fieldmarshals more than any other type desire (and generally have the ability) to visualize where the organization is going, and they seem able to communicate that vision to others." and "They are ever intent on reducing bureaucractic red tape, task redundancy, and aimless confusion... Although Fieldmarshals are tolerant of established procedures, they can and will abandon any procedure when it can be shown to be ineffective in accomplishing the goal."

I follow in the footsteps of Margaret Thatcher, Carl Sagan, George Bernard Shaw, Golda Meir, and (ummmm) Napoleon.

I don't know how this relates but my Mom used to say I had several favorite expressions and they usually followed one another if you just waited long enough.

"I'll tell you what......"

"On the other hand......"

Seems like that fits with a Fieldmarshal and a Teacher.

We're getting used to our renovated home. The living room is a delight - no changes in layout there. But, the kitchen is totally new. And, the layout is different. Someone asked me the other day if I had trouble finding things. No, they are where they should be. The other kitchen was wrong; all we did was make it right.

On the other hand, I've had to rethink some of my planning because it's just not working out effectively. For instance, my partner wants the coffee pot, mugs and flatware to the left of the sink. Not where I'd planned for it to be, but I can adapt - right? So, we put the flatware where I thought the kitchen utensils ought to go. Something just didn't feel right about that. Then, I figured it out, and I've changed it while she's out of town. I turned the divided tray around so that the handles are closest to you when you're standing in front of the coffee pot. Of course, I'm right handed and she's left handed, and that could make a difference in how the handles are turned. I'm wondering if she'll notice it before she reads this.

And, I've been having other fun in her absence - about four days of lazy solitude. I've unpacked boxes and decided to get rid of more books - religous stuff that I will never use again. I still have about 10 boxes of books to unpack yet, but I suspect that many of them will depart in peace to be loved in the service of the Lord.

I wonder that my personality type has not changed more. I'm certainly enjoying the creative aspects of me lately - writing, painting, making jewelry, knitting, roasting cats. No, just joking on the latter. I have two part-Siamese, and one of them is yowling at me that it's time for his medicine and treats. Here he comes, white paws a gleaming in the door to stare at me when the yowling didn't work.

So, I guess I'll cut short this personal musing and "pill the cat". It is that time.