We are staying in an incredible home. I don't use the word 'incredible' casually here. We are on a ski mountain in a home built and furnished out of wood and stone and the most lavish fabrics and pieces. The bedrooms have walk out decks and the main stone deck must surely cost more than our home.
I sit on the deck in the shade since AC is off, and remember in my body that nature heals me.
I don't covet the house or anything in it. The deck and view are the treasures to me.
I was thinking , surrounded by all these things, that we have lost the intimacy of things because we have so much. A treasured mirror, a pen, a small leather bound book that fits into the palm of the hand - who even notices these things anymore let alone ponders all they present or remember how they came to us?
We have lost our companionship w small treasures and our minds hunger in a way that cannot be satisfied. I think having a lot, living in a world with so much, is the reason this has happened. I never stop to be stunned at all the stuff a family can haul out into a driveway for a garage sale. Or how much is in a house we clean out after gramma dies. We have stuff. Stuff. Such a good word - it is a noun AND a verb. Our treasures are lost in our stuff.
Tuesday, July 3, 2012
Egg Benedict
Driving up toward our very recently secured vacation rental we stopped in an "historic" town to eat.
Happily we came upon a nice little local cafe. The matron w flour on her shirt boosum and belly told us they had re- opened w a generator the previous afternoon at 4:00.
I ordered perogys and cabbage rolls and Steve ordered Eggs Benedict. "We only have one egg, she told us. But I will make it good." My plate of two perogys and one cabbage roll was yummy but sparse. I should have guessed she was precious about her food. In my enthusiasm I asked if she would sell us 12 perogy and 12 cabbage rolls to take. "Yes, of course."
The bill came as we stood at the counter- breakfast and two dozen hand made treats - $121.00! Apparently the perogy were $3.50 a piece and the cabbage rolls more. We gulped, apologized, rescinded the order and fled, laughing. In Alberta, Uktainian country, a dozen perogy is $4.00 or so.
Anyway, Steve's Egg Benedict was lovely.
I ordered perogys and cabbage rolls and Steve ordered Eggs Benedict. "We only have one egg, she told us. But I will make it good." My plate of two perogys and one cabbage roll was yummy but sparse. I should have guessed she was precious about her food. In my enthusiasm I asked if she would sell us 12 perogy and 12 cabbage rolls to take. "Yes, of course."
The bill came as we stood at the counter- breakfast and two dozen hand made treats - $121.00! Apparently the perogy were $3.50 a piece and the cabbage rolls more. We gulped, apologized, rescinded the order and fled, laughing. In Alberta, Uktainian country, a dozen perogy is $4.00 or so.
Sunday, July 1, 2012
Friends don't let friends sleep on the curb
Our best laid plans can sink like a stone. I planned this time like an old woman laying out a quilt pattern. Getting five families , six kids, fifteen people into the same place happily relaxing and well fed for 10 days is a challenge.
The very first night a tornado wiped it all out. Our wedding accommodations were w/o air, water, light and our holiday rental was completely wiped out. We could only find two rooms in Charleston and we only got them because Curtis stood in front of the front desk and, uncharacteristically, demanded they give us their last two rooms.
But we have friends!! Friends who Love unselfishly. In a lighthearted generous negotiation two great couples abandoned their rooms, left the wedding early and everyone in the family had a bed. What can I say? The generosity, love, joyful participation from our friends who love us and love God is one of the most beautiful gifts of this wedding.
Saturday, June 30, 2012
Wine into Water
The First Presbyterian church of Charleston is magnificent. Stained glass, curved, hard wax polished pews, magnificent organ. The wedding coordinator for the church stood before us in a lumpy cotton skirt - but it was 102 degrees out and we all arrived dripping wet. Declaring the church rules she said, "... And NO alcohol AT ALL in the church! I AM NOT jOKING!!! If anyone is caught with any alcohol at all the wedding will be immediately cancelled and every asked to leave the premises.
I heard a small stirring and looked over at my young teen granddaughters. They were staring straight ahead, a bit too solomnly. I know that look though. There was mischief afoot! Their dad was doing the same, all the while inching away from a cardboard box sitting on the first pew beside him as if it contained a bomb.
The woman leaned forward to make her point, her skirt skimming the box containing 16 bottles of wine that had been delivered and brought in to protect it from the scorching hot car!
Friday, June 1, 2012
Something Worthwhile
My work took me and a student friend to Dallas this week, as part of the requirement of a student award we were granted to help a local school. The event turned out to be valuable, but before I knew that I was just a bit unhappy about taking most of my week to do this task. Steve said to me, after praying for me, "Maybe something worthwhile will happen." My daughter Rachel said the exact same words over the phone.
So, did something worthwhile happen? There was conversation and networking and eating and presenting our school and our work. There was an interesting connection with a mutual friend and some laughing and learning.
As I was leaving the hotel I stopped at the Buss-man's desk to retrieve my luggage and two young guys were there to assist. I had passed them earlier as sentries by the front door and had asked a question and passed a word then. So at the desk I commented on their change of venue and we smiled.
Having received my luggage, the one young man, a tall lovely African American wearing a black with gold trim cowboy outfit said, "May I ask you something?" He was looking at the computer screen and I thought it was a survey of customers.
"Do you consider yourself excellent?" he asked?
Taken aback I paused, and then said, "Yes, I guess I do."
"So," he said, "you don't consider yourself to have flaws."
I laughed! "Oh that isn't what I mean. I have so many flaws. Excellence is about what is inside."
He said, "What's inside? You are excellent but you have flaws. That is how you see it."
"Yes, of course. I am excellent in that I know who I am and I live out of that, but there are flaws in everything in my life."
Long-ish pause. "So do you have any advice for me?" he asked.
Hmm. I smiled. And thought. And so much wanted to have a brilliant sentence come out of my head. But of course that didn't happen. So I said, (and this won't be exact, but the closest I can remember) "I guess I would tell you that you need to get to know God, and His love for you, and get to know yourself. If you know God and know yourself you will find your way. And you will be excellent."
His turn to pause. "So you believe in grace."
I laughed. "I definitely do. I need a lot of grace."
"And you believe in forgiveness."
I felt joy to be able to say, "Yes. I need a lot of forgiveness in my life. Always. And for some big things too. But yes, I believe in grace."
"Keep asking questions," I said. "You are going to find your way." He smiled for the first time.
That was it. I think that was worthwhile.
So, did something worthwhile happen? There was conversation and networking and eating and presenting our school and our work. There was an interesting connection with a mutual friend and some laughing and learning.
Having received my luggage, the one young man, a tall lovely African American wearing a black with gold trim cowboy outfit said, "May I ask you something?" He was looking at the computer screen and I thought it was a survey of customers.
"Do you consider yourself excellent?" he asked?
Taken aback I paused, and then said, "Yes, I guess I do."
"So," he said, "you don't consider yourself to have flaws."
I laughed! "Oh that isn't what I mean. I have so many flaws. Excellence is about what is inside."
He said, "What's inside? You are excellent but you have flaws. That is how you see it."
"Yes, of course. I am excellent in that I know who I am and I live out of that, but there are flaws in everything in my life."
Long-ish pause. "So do you have any advice for me?" he asked.
Hmm. I smiled. And thought. And so much wanted to have a brilliant sentence come out of my head. But of course that didn't happen. So I said, (and this won't be exact, but the closest I can remember) "I guess I would tell you that you need to get to know God, and His love for you, and get to know yourself. If you know God and know yourself you will find your way. And you will be excellent."
His turn to pause. "So you believe in grace."
I laughed. "I definitely do. I need a lot of grace."
"And you believe in forgiveness."
I felt joy to be able to say, "Yes. I need a lot of forgiveness in my life. Always. And for some big things too. But yes, I believe in grace."
"Keep asking questions," I said. "You are going to find your way." He smiled for the first time.
That was it. I think that was worthwhile.
Monday, May 14, 2012
Signs of God
My son in law told me a story that comes out of the Red Light Project he and his church are developing in Raleigh NC. I asked him to write it out for me. What do you think?
"Two Saturdays ago, I went out to the Durham Art Walk in, well, Durham, to drop off some promotional materials for 5 or 6 artists who are going to be a part of our Project Red Light art exhibit. And the third artist I saw was this wonderful older Italian man named Eduardo Lapetina.
I gave him the promotional pieces and we talked a bit about his display walls that we may be borrowing for the event. And he has this wonderful grandfatherly quality about him. Every word he says smiles.
And then he asked me what I do for a living. I told him that I work as a Pastor at a church. He put his hand to his brow and shook his head and said “Oh. Why? You are far too young to believe in a god.”
And God gave me buoyant joy in that moment - and put words in my mouth that I’m so glad I spoke. Trying to mirror his smile toward me, I said to him, “Eduardo, do you want to know why I believe in a god?” And I pointed to one of his paintings and said “Because of this! Because of beauty and creativity! I see these painting and can’t help but see God. And do you want to know why else I believe in God? Because a bunch of artists like you are giving of your time and talents to help bring justice and hope to people who need it. I can’t help but see all of this as signposts of the divine.”
"Two Saturdays ago, I went out to the Durham Art Walk in, well, Durham, to drop off some promotional materials for 5 or 6 artists who are going to be a part of our Project Red Light art exhibit. And the third artist I saw was this wonderful older Italian man named Eduardo Lapetina.
I gave him the promotional pieces and we talked a bit about his display walls that we may be borrowing for the event. And he has this wonderful grandfatherly quality about him. Every word he says smiles.
And then he asked me what I do for a living. I told him that I work as a Pastor at a church. He put his hand to his brow and shook his head and said “Oh. Why? You are far too young to believe in a god.”
And God gave me buoyant joy in that moment - and put words in my mouth that I’m so glad I spoke. Trying to mirror his smile toward me, I said to him, “Eduardo, do you want to know why I believe in a god?” And I pointed to one of his paintings and said “Because of this! Because of beauty and creativity! I see these painting and can’t help but see God. And do you want to know why else I believe in God? Because a bunch of artists like you are giving of your time and talents to help bring justice and hope to people who need it. I can’t help but see all of this as signposts of the divine.”
Sunday, May 13, 2012
Mingo Park
I started running again on Saturday.
I haven't been doing any real taxing activity and I had to move. TO MOVE! The Mingo Park in Nicholasville is a great place: a skateboard area, basketball courts, an extreme frisby course (or whatever they call it), a fishing pond loaded with ducks and geese, and a one mile track. Rows of subsidized housing line the park, giving prime play space to all kinds of kids and families who don't have their own back yard. The park is never empty - it buzzes with colorful life.
On Saturday I ran three miles(ish). On the first cycle around I passed two Mormon fellows trying to get a conversation going with a small group of young teens who were trying to escape.
The second time around the same five or seven kids were captured by a local 'holy man' - an East Indian fellow who wears exotic clothing and wanders around the town carrying various bags of garbage, talking to himself or yelling bits of wisdom. He was standing in front of the kids who were all sitting on a picnic table, watching, mezmerized. His voice rose and fell dramatically and he railed against evils and called the kids to some kind of higher life. I always wonder if a person like him is really crazy or is he a John the Baptist kind of fellow. I don't know.
This same 'holy man' followed my granddaughters around the library last time they were here. He kept saying, "Peace." Kyra, the most cooperative, would say back, "Peace." They told me about it in the car, laughing til they cried. "Peace!" Megan would make fun of the way her sister had said it. "Peace!"
After my third time around I sat and watched the same boys ride the ramps and edges of the skateboard area. With elegance they flew through a routine of marvelous acrobatics. Then they would stand with their weight on one foot and act really casual like, "Sheesh. That was nothing. You should see me on a good day!"
I had the thought that God was preaching through them. Not the missionaries or the crazy holy man, but the lives of boys who can fly on a board attached to wheels. Someone's boy. Someone's lover one day, if not now. Life fresh from the womb.
I prayed that they would soar through all of life like they rode their skate boards. God help us all.
I haven't been doing any real taxing activity and I had to move. TO MOVE! The Mingo Park in Nicholasville is a great place: a skateboard area, basketball courts, an extreme frisby course (or whatever they call it), a fishing pond loaded with ducks and geese, and a one mile track. Rows of subsidized housing line the park, giving prime play space to all kinds of kids and families who don't have their own back yard. The park is never empty - it buzzes with colorful life.
On Saturday I ran three miles(ish). On the first cycle around I passed two Mormon fellows trying to get a conversation going with a small group of young teens who were trying to escape.
The second time around the same five or seven kids were captured by a local 'holy man' - an East Indian fellow who wears exotic clothing and wanders around the town carrying various bags of garbage, talking to himself or yelling bits of wisdom. He was standing in front of the kids who were all sitting on a picnic table, watching, mezmerized. His voice rose and fell dramatically and he railed against evils and called the kids to some kind of higher life. I always wonder if a person like him is really crazy or is he a John the Baptist kind of fellow. I don't know.
This same 'holy man' followed my granddaughters around the library last time they were here. He kept saying, "Peace." Kyra, the most cooperative, would say back, "Peace." They told me about it in the car, laughing til they cried. "Peace!" Megan would make fun of the way her sister had said it. "Peace!"
After my third time around I sat and watched the same boys ride the ramps and edges of the skateboard area. With elegance they flew through a routine of marvelous acrobatics. Then they would stand with their weight on one foot and act really casual like, "Sheesh. That was nothing. You should see me on a good day!"
I had the thought that God was preaching through them. Not the missionaries or the crazy holy man, but the lives of boys who can fly on a board attached to wheels. Someone's boy. Someone's lover one day, if not now. Life fresh from the womb.
I prayed that they would soar through all of life like they rode their skate boards. God help us all.
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