Do you think I'll turn into a couch potato? Or maybe a rutabaga. Eeww, I hate rutabaga!! No, I think I'll be a zucinni. Whatever, I'm very grateful for a new couch and area rug, sitting on top of newly cleaned carpet.

Today I am sending a proposal to Spiritual Directors International to do a workshop at their conference in Boston next spring. It's about being a non-anxious presence in situations of crisis, fear, confusion, trauma. It brings back memories of the role of chaplain as that presence--someone who stays calm, cares but doesn't fall apart, thinks somewhat clearly, seems capable of making the impossible possible to bear. And I am also reminded, with deep gratitude, of those who have played that role for me, especially when Norris was dying. Who knows how it happens, but I suspect a deep prayerful connection with God is a key factor. Attended to day after day, that relationship gives us capabilities at such moments far beyond what we think is possible.

Gratitude is the word for this beautiful day! Blessings to you, dear reader. Breathe deeply, laugh heartily, look piercingly, love extravagantly!

Sometimes life just isn't fair!

What is it with cords?

I wonder if dance lessons would help me learn to trip lightly around cords! I don't care if it's the vacuum cleaner cord or the snake pit of computer cords, or the cords for my electric lawn mower, I am forever battling with them. And they do receive my wrath, poor things. I mean, how is it that I can wind up a 40' extension cord and place it carefully in the carport, only to find it full of knots when I'm ready to use it? Well, they aren't really knots, but they might as well be. And then, no matter what path I take with the mower, the cord insists on being in the way. I fume, I fuss, I swear. I've even been known to kick the vacuum cleaner. Do you think that makes a whit of difference? Of course not.

Not unlike our emotional, psychological, spiritual cords, I suppose. Sometimes all seems smooth and carefully under control. But just wait! Those cords will set out to trip you up. It's worth it, though, isn't it? To just let the cords be and dance your way between and among them?

Such little things, like electric cords, can be our teachers if we notice. Those cords allow us to use power, power we can use for good, if we choose. So do the invisible kind! Guess I'll try to focus my awareness on the power given and not on my wish to control the connectors. Maybe I'll even take a deep breath and stop swearing.

Christ Is In It All

Sometimes, living alone, I feel isolated, separate from God and others. Thankfully it doesn't usually last long. Soon Christ shows up all over the place. I had watched a little video showing the Grand Hotel staff preparing for its opening. Like a tsunami, memories of my last trip with Norris, the celebration of our 40th wedding anniversary in that Grand old hotel, poured over me. The grief went on for two days. I'll spare you details, but taking the trip required a huge amount of effort from both of us, as his health was fast deteriorating. That was in early August and by mid-December, he was gone. I hadn't felt awash in grief for quite some time, fickle friend that it is, teasing me into believing I was finally "over it." Hah!!!

I holed up in my house from Saturday noon till mid-afternoon Sunday. Couldn't face going to church. And then--Christ came. Christ came in the gentle hospitality of a young Turkish woman who invited me and other dear friends for Tea, which for Turks means lots of good food, as well. Christ came in the evening concert of the Lange Ensemble, composed of many dear friends. Christ came in the music of Leonard Bernstein and the voice of a little boy named Mattieu. Christ came in the many friends I encountered afterward and in the assurance that I would always be welcome to return to the Ensemble.

This morning I felt much better and then that Christ came again! Because my Godson taped it and put it on our church's website, I was able to see and hear a fine sermon my friend, Jannel, preached yesterday. Then a dear man re-rolled my lawn 'cause it didn't work very well the first time. Though this required him to haul equipment from quite a distance, he wouldn't allow me to pay him. I was so motivated by his work out there, I jumped into action, straightening up the house and after he left, I took Tessa, the dog, for a long walk through the wetland nearby. There I met Christ in people, plants, other dogs, wild birds, trees, warm sun and a lovely breeze.

Finally, a gentle woman whom I don't know privately chided me on Facebook, for publicly correcting someone's punctuation in a post for a very worthy organization. She did it kindly, I responded giving my rationale, she said she understood my point, but maybe I could have done it privately, I agreed with her. We thanked one another. And I publicly apologized for my critical words. Now if that wasn't Christ in action, I don't know what is.

Thank you, Christ, for being in it all, including the wonderful memories.