Such wonderful variety!

One of the many things which I appreciate in life is the vast variety amongst all species, including us. Recently I have been especially mindful of that. I've picnicked with a group of Turkish Muslim people who have enriched my life immeasurably and wept as one of the families moved on to another place.

This past weekend I spent several hours at the East Lansing Folk Festival where I saw and/or spoke with people from all over the world--really interesting people. (I wish others would notice what an interesting community this is, instead of grousing about it being "dull". It's only dull if you're not really looking.)

Among the nicest people I've met, is Scott Harris, who started Everybody Reads Bookstore in Lansing almost five years ago. We spent several hours tending his book display at the Festival and when not talking with Festival-goers, we were deep in meaningful conversation about all sorts of things. No shallow "where did you get that cute hat?" sort of talk for us! We dive deep! I so admire someone with the courage to offer the community a local bookstore/gathering place, particularly open to those who might be overlooked or rejected in other settings. By the way, to put in a plug, the store is on E. Michigan Ave. next to Gone Wired Cafe', which is also a neat place to hang out. If you care whether Lansing has any independent bookstore (this is the last one), please consider visiting it and spending some money, too. (I do not have an financial interest in the store!)

The variety in the rest of nature is amazing, as well. The view from the large window above my computer desk is less than spectacular. In fact, in earlier years I rather hated it. After all, it was just the house close next door, their yard, and a bunch of trees. That was how I "saw" it. As time went on, however, and I became more contemplative I began to see the beauty there--the colors, the shapes, and the wonderful sky.

I planted a butterfly bush near this window several years ago and it has grown large enough that the branches are visible to me as I write. It is loaded with lovely lavender blooms. That would be rich in itself, but it attracts all sorts of creatures--bugs, actually--and today I've made the acquaintance of a large Tiger Swallowtail butterfly. From tip to tip it must be at least 5" wide. It's been around all morning, along with several bees and some small white butterflies. I have a bird's eye view, so to speak, as they drink from the tiny blossoms. For some reason, the squirrels and birds aren't so visible today, but yesterday there were two rabbits in the yard, one huddling in the deeper grass (yes, I need to mow), thinking I didn't see it, or hoping so anyway.

Of course, there are my two cats, as different from each other as can be, and my little Tessa dog, who is unusual to say the least. After a long period of not accepting her, the cats have finally come around, sort of. It's so cute to see Willie run down the sidewalk next to Tessa (they are about the same size) when we go out in the morning. And often, Nellie is looking out at us from my bedroom window.

I think of my dear ones and the amazing people who visit my home for spiritual sustenance and guidance! Each one is unique, yet they/we are all so similar. Isn't life something, folks? Even if you "don't got religion", on a day like this it's pretty hard not to give thanks to Someone!

Here's to Lake Superior, Split Rock Lighthouse, and the wonderful hours of love we shared in that place!

Happy birthday, Grandma!

It's August 1. Many say how fast the summer has flown, which is my usual thought as well. But this year, maybe because spring burst forth so early, I'm feeling like it's a long summer. Not that I'm complaining, mind you. It's especially wonderful when I take Tessa out first thing in the morning--the cool newness of another day, the birds chattering, the verdant smells, the side light of the sun in the east. I rejoice!

My maternal grand-mother, Nellie, was born on this day 134 years ago. I pay tribute annually to this magnificently strong, faithful woman, who never allowed the anguish of life to get her down for long. She didn't have the greatest marriage ever, was a widow for many years, had problems with her kids, struggled to make ends meet. Not unlike most of us now. Except in her day making ends meet meant literally having food, clothing, shelter. Not whether you could afford countless toys such as Wii or I-Phones or GPS systems. Nellie would truly be appalled at the state of things now. One of my hopes about the after-life is that if souls are aware of this plane, they are so wise and have such a broad perspective, they don't get upset about it.

I wonder how it is that we fall in love and with the best of intentions start out to make a life with our partner. Everyone is so excited about the wedding and the future. For far too many, not only does the light dim, it often goes out completely. And where did all the hope go?

Norris and I had our share of difficulties, but the light never went out. It feels like it now, though, with him being gone so long. At times, I find it hard to remember exactly how he looked or spoke. I'm always grateful when those realities are clear to me once again. One of the most difficult things about being a widow is keeping my mouth shut when those with partners complain about them. Yes, I know, I always have had trouble keeping my mouth shut! But, sometimes it's very tempting to remind them that at least they still have a partner. I understand their feelings. I complained, too. And it's cliche' to point out that we don't appreciate what we have until we lose it, including our marriages. It is not easy to be alone. I'm feeling that especially as I realize next weekend will be our 45th wedding anniversary and he won't be here to celebrate.

Well, enough mid-summer self-pity. Here's to Nellie and all the wonderful Grandmas who loved us in spite of ourselves. May she truly rest in peace!

You'd have laughed, too!

OK, another sermon. I'm sorry, but I like to share them and besides, it's easier than writing a new blog post! The Scripture was in Genesis 18 about how Sarah and Abraham, at ages 90 and 100, were going to have a baby!!

In the early 50’s, when I was a little girl, “Life is Just a Bowl of Cherries” was a very popular song. Its basic theme was not to worry, to hold lightly to life’s challenges, to “live, love and laugh at it all.” My father ranted and raved about that song and the evils of its philosophy. “That’s the trouble with people these days,” he would roar, “they don’t take life seriously. They don’t work hard enough”, etc, etc, etc. Ironically, by the way, a few years later he bought a cherry orchard, so “a bowl of cherries” became pretty significant to him.

Why did that song upset him so much? He came from a family of stoic Scots-Irish people--poor, puritanical, pious. He told how his father berated him and his brother for tossing a football after the day’s work was done as just a waste of time. There was little laughter in that home. And, though my Dad was somewhat “looser”, there was precious little laughter in our home either. Fortunately for him, and my mother, in later years he allowed his natural exuberance to come forth and his deep belly laugh was loud and contagious.

Laughter is one of the amazing things about the human species. Perhaps other species laugh, too. I hope so. Dogs and cats definitely smile. But there is nothing quite like the pure joy of a hearty laugh. On lovely summer days, I revel in the exuberant giggles of the two small children who live next door.

Christianity, however, doesn’t say a lot about laughter. We read that Jesus wept, but not that Jesus laughed. A strange detail to leave out, don’t you think? Especially when you consider all the wild parties he liked to attend. Perhaps you’ve seen the pictures of Jesus laughing. If you Google that phrase on your computer you come up with an amazing number of articles and pictures.

So getting back to Sarah and Abraham, the father and mother of the Hebrew people, it’s interesting that laughter was a focus of this story. You may remember that God has promised Abraham he will be the father of countless people and now three strangers appear in the yard and somehow Abraham senses their significance, for he jumps up in the hottest part of the day and can’t wait to provide them with food and gracious hospitality.
So Sarah hears one of the men, presumably the Lord, saying she will have a baby and she laughs. Can’t you just hear her? HA! Me? At age 90? Have pleasure with that 100 year old husband of mine? HA! You’d have laughed, too. Interestingly, when God tells Abraham the same thing one chapter earlier, he, too, laughs, but God doesn’t seem to mind. Why then, do you suppose God is annoyed with Sarah for laughing? Might say something about how the story-teller saw women. Apparently, she wasn’t supposed to laugh at God. Maybe that’s part of how we learned it was wrong to laugh in church or any holy setting.

I have several friends who became parents at an older age (not THAT old) and they laugh, too, sometimes to keep from crying. We laugh at that which we both understand and don’t understand. We laugh at absurdity. We laugh when we can do nothing else. (I told here of the "Chuckle's Funeral" episode of The Mary Tyler Moore Show.

Ted Cohen’s book Jokes: Philosophical Thoughts on Joking Matters was reviewed in The Christian Century a few years ago.
“The peculiar capacity of jokes to absorb absurdity is theologically significant, Cohen suggests. To laugh at the world’s absurdities implies an "acceptance of incomprehensibility," and this acceptance is a kind of religious affirmation. Such jokes offer a way of being reconciled to the creation and the Creator even as one expresses anger or despair at God’s world. Cohen finds such laughter in the passage in Genesis where Abraham and Sarah laugh upon learning that Sarah at age 90 will bear a child (to be named Isaac, "he laughs"). If the patriarch and matriarch of the faith can laugh at God’s incomprehensible ways, argues Cohen, then surely such laughter has a theological warrant.

Of course laughter can come from all kinds of sources—fear, embarrassment, nervousness, hatred, abuse of power, etc. But I hope to bring some laughter, or at least a chuckle or grin to your spirit, by sharing a few things that just coincidentally showed up in my email this week. You’ll need to be wide awake now!

The first set is from a comedian named Stephen Wright, who is zany, creative and a bit outside the box. Here are a few of his one-liners:

82.7% of all statistics are made up on the spot.
A clear conscience is usually the sign of a bad memory.
How do you tell when you're out of invisible ink?
Depression is merely anger without enthusiasm.
When everything is coming your way, you're in the wrong lane.
What happens if you get scared half to death twice?
The hardness of the butter is proportional to the softness of the bread.
There's a fine line between fishing and just standing on the shore like an idiot.

Then there are the ubiquitous church bulletin mistakes, such as:

• The Fasting & Prayer Conference includes meals.
• The peacemaking meeting scheduled for today has been canceled due to a conflict.
• Irving Benson and Jessie Carter were married on October 24 in the church. So ends a friendship that began in their school days.
• Potluck supper Sunday at 5:00 PM - prayer and medication to follow.
• Low Self Esteem Support Group will meet Thursday at 7 PM. Please use the back door.
• Weight Watchers will meet at 7 PM at the First Presbyterian Church. Please use large double door at the side entrance.

Humorists can do much to help us find commonality and community, perhaps when we least expect it. I believe Bill Cosby’s ability to show how similar his experiences were to that of people of all backgrounds went a long way in teaching Americans to be more tolerant. We know, too, that laughter is healing, physically and every other way. Norman Cousins, who laughed his way to healing, says, “Laughter is inner jogging.”

God has a sense of humor, obviously. Else why would life be so wild and crazy and rich and wonderful? I was blessed to marry a man who believed that; a man who said we could survive anything if we could keep our sense of humor. Our home knew laughter even in the hardest times. In my email signature I quote, I don’t know who, “Blessed are those who laugh at themselves, for they shall never cease to be amused.”

I will close with a prayer from Bridget Mary Meehan’s book Praying with the Women of the Bible:

Promise us, O God of Sarah, that you will be faithful forever
especially in the times we experience discouragement and emptiness.
O God of the Unexpected, teach us to laugh heartily at life’s inconsistencies and at our own silly pretenses.
Surprise us, as you did Sarah, with new life, fresh hope, and energetic love.
Then, like Sarah, we will praise you with glad hearts and grateful laughter all the days of our lives.
Amen.