It is Enough

Having slept well last night and awakening to my little dog's whimpers of hunger and potty need, I piled on my outer clothes and we went out into a beautiful morning--cold, clear, snow still lingering on branches.

I fed the animals and myself, read emails, sat in prayer for a while, then got ready and went to church. As I drove down my as yet unplowed street, it came to me. Enough. I am enough; I have enough; I do enough. Can't remember when I felt so peaceful and grateful. Saying enough is not a sign of complacency or giving up on life; not at all. I experience it as a gift from God: you have enough; you are enough; you do enough. And I noticed during and after church how really present I felt to others, not self-conscious or judgmental. If anything, the feeling empowered me to be a more loving person today.

Millions of people on this planet cannot say that in truth--either because they are truly deprived or because they hunger for that which material things cannot give or because they have been well taught that they will never be "enough", no matter how hard they try or what they achieve. So I am profoundly grateful today for this awareness. I don't expect to carry it at the top of my consciousness every moment, of course. I really do *want* a new stove, for instance! But at the end of the day, as they say, all I am and all that I've been given and all that I've experienced and all that I've loved--it IS enough! May you receive a similar gift, a deep realization that you ARE enough in the eyes of God. And really, who else matters?

Playing Church

I'm watching an early and cold winter sunset out my window. It has been the third sunny and cold day in a row in Mid-Michigan. May be a record for January! And so, New Year blessings to you, dear reader. May you blossom and thrive in the days to come, no matter what life throws your way.

Today I had one of those rare opportunities to do something as an adult that I loved to do as a kid. In this case, it was "playing church". Of course, it wasn't "just" playing. It was real. But every once in a while I have the fun of leading worship, preaching, praying and blessing a lovely congregation of people who have become my second church home. And as it always is, today was a joy. We weren't a large group. As I told them, it was a "low Sunday." But I'm always, or usually there on low Sundays, so it doesn't bother me. You see, many in the parish were up north having a holy ski weekend. And some stayed home because of the extreme cold and some were probably just tired of all the holiday celebrating. Nevertheless, there was a respectable sized congregation and we sang, prayed, laughed and cried together with energy.

I call it playing church because I did a lot of that when I was little. I planned the service, chose the hymns, was the "organist" (piano, actually), choir, preacher, and congregation all rolled into one. Kind of a fun way to do things; no one to disagree with me or criticize or get bored with my words. On the other hand, church is about community and that I didn't have as a child--at least not at home in my playtime.

It occurred to me that even though my parents were devout Christians, and even though I played church (and Sunday School) regularly, I never heard them even hint that I might want to become a minister. Girls didn't do that sort of thing much when I was young; but a few did and I'm surprised they never mentioned it. Who knows, if they had, maybe I would have gone to seminary right out of college.

I don't think that would have turned out nearly as well as what transpired instead. So I'm grateful they didn't push me. I headed in that direction off and on for several years in mid-life, yet somehow it never came to be. I used to wish it had, but for a long time now I have rejoiced in my unique role as spiritual director, retreat leader, lay minister and friend to many. It suits me just fine. One of these days soon I'll find out whether book author will be added to that list. I'll let you know.

Enjoy each day for what it offers you and don't forget to breathe, look, listen, and laugh!!!

Oh, the beauty!

I've heard enough complaining about the commercialization of Christmas, the dysfunction of the U. S. Congress, especially the Senate, the disappointment with Copenhagen, the corruption and violence in Afghanistan and Iraq, the weak "hopes" spoken in the media about the improved economy--improved for the ultra-rich only, it seems.

So today, on this day before the day before Christmas, I want to dwell on beauty. Outside the window above my desk, the neighborhood is absolutely ablaze with sun on snow, with a light blue sky beyond and lovely tree shadows across the yards. Everything is quiet and peaceful, at least on the surface.
This neighborhood has been that way all through the 33 years I've lived in it. I remember one time when a burglar was being chased through yards by a police helicopter and once when there were gunshots at a drunken party nearby. TWO events in 33 years.

Last week my computer got hacked and I was angry and upset with myself for my naivete. It cost me lots of money to get it fixed. I felt violated and scared for a while. Such an experience could lead one to be super afraid and cautious. Some caution, of course, is fine. But super-fear, certainty that this evil is pervasive, is not how I want to live. I learned a lesson; I will be more careful. But I will not *expect* bad things to happen. I've been using the internet actively for over 10 years. This is the first time something want that wrong. I'm sorry it did, but I'm grateful that's the only time.

Guess I'm sounding a bit like Pollyanna (do young people know who Pollyanna was?), but I do not want to live out of a center that is fearful, grasping, angry, bitter. Sometimes I have those feelings, and not just about computers, but I pray for peace and if I mean that prayer, then I must open my heart to peace as the prevailing attitude. Well, I wonder what you think.

I think it's time to go wrap presents, focus on the music, the smiles, the giggles, the hugs, the laughter and tears, the good food and warm company--the things that make this season Holy indeed. May God bless you and all of us!

Thinking of Norris

Can you see the butterfly on Norris's hat? Isn't that just him? I probably took that during one of our many walks in the woods. We had a habit, especially on Sunday afternoons, of going for long meandering drives in the country and walking in some wild area like the Maple River Wetlands or Legg Park or Burchfield Park. Sometimes we drove all the way to Middleton just to eat in the Middleton Diner. We loved the old-fashioned home-made Mennonite flavor of the place. But true to his nature, we actually went because Norris really liked Mary Lou, the proprieter, whom he met in the process of writing a nice feature about them. They had the article framed and hung in the entrance. Mary Lou claimed their Lansing business greatly increased after it was published. Anyway, Mary Lou had VERY long hair, which she wore in one braid down her back--she probably still does. She was petite and charming and he just really liked her! Some readers know that he tended toward certain types of women: 1) those with long hair 2) those with a sparkling personality and 3) those who worked in restaurants. He tended to "father" many of them, somehow thinking that's the only way they would relate to him. He had a sad perception that he wasn't attractive. I obviously did not agree. And while I was smitten with other men occasionally, he limited himself to what I'll call "the restaurant diversion."

Anyway, where was I? Oh yes, we were taking long walks in the woods. Well, you know, Norris loved nature--in all its aspects, human included. He had a great eye for beauty as his magnificent photography proved over and over.

I'm thinking about him today, because this is the day on which he moved on to greater Life. It's been four years. Time seems to have no meaning in terms of this love. It feels like yesterday; it feels like ages ago. I live without him; I live with him. It may seem cliche', but he is a part of me and always will be. Will we meet again? I honestly don't know. I *should* believe we will, but I don't know. What I do believe is that it will be OK, whatever comes after this world, this life, this day. I am joyfully sad; I am sadly joyful. It is a wondrous mystery!

Thank you, Norris. Fly free!