Sunday, November 27, 2011

Potluck

One of our dear friends recently discovered he is in the late stages of cancers' merciless grip.  The news stunned us all – he who is so youthful, vigorous and full of life – his mischievous laugh resounding forever in our hearts…mention Chris and that sound echoes through everyone’s head with delight.  These men have been friends since grade school at St. Mary’s, adding one or two along the way, from high school and SEARCH weekends, and they have held on, through wild adventures and weddings, through kids and the daily pulls that eventually shape our lives in different directions.  Usually, it would be Bob as the master of planning; a ping pong gathering, a party, he’d remember a birthday or use anything as a cause to celebrate…this time he used cancer ---

“Does anyone recognize these fugitives?” his email read. And there it was, from days long gone – a shot of the boys gathered round a table, the easy fun so evident on their faces as they ham it up for the camera!

And so we gathered Saturday afternoon for a potluck…
Kevin and Kara hosted, in their wide open home so like their wide open hearts.  We brought appetizers and dessert, so arrived first.  We were standing in the kitchen when Mike and Linda arrived (we hadn’t seen him in ages)…my husband saw Mike peek his head in and thought, “There’s Mikes Dad!”, quickly realizing no…that’s Mike.  Needless to say, it was an eye-opening evening!
He and his son carried in the cooler as we laughed about the days we’d all lived together in a big house on the beach, Rog and I the only married couple, and all these guys.  Mike always had a cooler ready then, glad to spend an evening on the sand.

Joe and Cathy brought bread and oil, Joe loving bread as always, knowing our need to break bread together, the meaning lost to no one.  The hard swallow of eucharisteo  borne more easily in communion.
Bob (the self-designated Wine Swine) and Maura were welcomed with ready glasses and raucous laughter.  Chris and Michelle arrived with them.  Michelle with a huge salad, fresh and full of greens and fruit and nuts.  She always makes the best salads!

We chatted and munched a good long while, took a tour of the house (Kevin is an architect) while Kara prepared the main course, lovely salmon and couscous.
Then we sat down at table.  Six couples who’ve been long wed, wives brought together mostly by the friendships their husbands shared; and knit together through the years, grateful for such friendships in their lives and ours.  We feasted on a delicious meal and told stories that had us laughing and crying, whole table conversations with each one shouting in their bit of the story and quiet ‘one on ones’ as we lingered on.  I brought out the dessert – pies – and as I sat down next to Mike he shared how his mom had been the pie maker at a local restaurant when he was small; how he loved pies (real pies…good pies).  My mom had been a pie maker too; daily heading out to the Wagon Wheel.  The weave of life and grace in our life a common thread knotted there…

Bob made toasts (he is a most excellent wine swine) and we took a group shot for posterity.  We all ended up in the kitchen, having the quiet  conversation with Chris and Michelle that had brought us all there, sharing love and hope, the hard facts of life softened with tears and gratitude and faith strong enough to hold us all.
It took us hours more to say goodbye…

In the days following, each has sent out an email of thanks to the group.  I sat down to write ours, and thought of asking for Kara’s recipe – the meal had been so good, I thought I might serve it Christmas eve.  But I had watched her prepare it, simple enough, and slide it in the oven.  Then I realized…

The meal was not prepared in any special way for us…we were prepared in a special way for the meal.  Apart, we were stunned and troubled…together we relaxed and remembered… in good company with good stories and our good God to see us through.  Because of that we celebrated, and life was the feast!  Simcha!
To be grateful is to recognize the Love of God in everything.
Thomas Merton
Thoughts in Solitude

Morning Prayer brings this line to me.
So here I am...
Looking...
Looking hard into that situation...
Trying to find the love of God...
I want to say "there it is!"...
I want to see....
But I can only say "I believe it's there"...
Even though I cannot see it...
Yet...
Even though...
I make up my answers...
Try to put God’s love into the places I’d expect it to be...
The proverbial square peg in a round hole...
Here I sit with the mystery...
Recognition...
God’s love...
Working in me...

Hours later I am in the shower and without warning His mercies rain down-
The love of God is first and always merciful.
Myself
My Thoughts in Solitude

They wash over me...
Mercy within Mercy within Mercy (TM said this too, doesn't every Christ follower)

Sometimes I struggle so hard against what isn't that I miss His mercies in what is...

"In everything give thanks; for this is the will of God in Christ Jesus for you."
                                                                  1Thessalonians 5:18

Wednesday, November 23, 2011

GRATITUDE – May we all grow into it's grace

St. Francis passed on to us many prayers of praise. He went through his life
finding new things for which to praise God at every turn: the little things,
nature, the creatures, suffering, his brothers—
for whatever is happening, he praises God.
Francis is never trying to earn God's love; he is celebrating it!
He continually enjoys God's love in everything he sees and experiences.  
Mature prayer always breaks into gratitude and praise.
Prayer is sitting in the silence until it silences us,
choosing gratitude until we are grateful,
praising God until we ourselves are a constant act of praise.
Adapted from Richard Rohr; Radical Grace: Daily Meditations

Sunday, November 20, 2011

FAITH

This photo of our grandson always prompts gratitude and a smile...to remember how securely love holds us...and to savor the many blessings of life with wild abandon and confident joy 

Saturday, November 12, 2011

Last week I was captivated by chickens.  We'd headed out to Bates Nut Farm for a bit of Fall, myself and a friend, with our 8 year old daughter and 3 year old godson along for a treat to see the animals.  Little did I know.  I have never seen nor imagined such beautiful diversity in a chicken coup.  I hope my dear friend got some photos I can add later so that you can see for yourself.  Such personality.  Though it was midday, a persistent rooster kept up his cock-a-doodle-doing the entire time.  Determined to put his talents to use I imagine.  Chickens covered with feathers from head to foot fluffed constantly to catch our eye.  The kids threw corn they found off the ground until they were digging them out of the mud, and we relented and bought a bag of feed to share.  It was so fun to watch them, forgetting the world...just feeding chickens that shook their fancy feathers and fought for each kernel, scattering about as if it was the last they'd ever see.  I so fully enjoyed the moment, and found myself accompanied by recollections of visits in days gone by when my older ones were small and we'd head out here for some adventure.  God is good, all the time, I know...but today I am thanking the good Lord for such easy happiness, pure grace.  Simcha!

“The earth is the only road that can lead us to heaven. There is no other. And the earth is not an idea, an argument, an abstraction, or a concept. It is not even a law. It is a thing, a gigantic thing, a great tangled swarming mass of things; it is a universe.
And because we must be led to God by things, they have therefore within them everything that is needed for the divine fulfillment of this task. It is, strictly speaking, their main role.
All around us, Providence has placed hosts of silent messengers who can lead us without effort by paths of love to the holy springs of peace.
Water, wood, fishes, the morning dew, the cock crowing at dawn, should all be able to inspire our prayer. Clothes and flowers, perfumes and pearls, the wind whistling past, the bread on the table, the jug, chair and roof… all these things have been sanctified, all these things have been loaded with blessings and divine inspiration by the Word.”

Pierre Charles
The Prayer of All Things

Slapstick

I am sitting in my car at the stoplight at Dove Street.  I am smiling because I am at Dove Street and the stoplight is lined with them, pigeon doves.   While I wait I count 19 and the evidence of their frequenting that post is apparent.  I am waiting while a small little lady crosses the street right under the pole and even as the thought enters my mind she turns and looks about in astonishment...yes, they nailed her!  I found myself cracking up while some more kindly and practical passerby handed her some tissues.  All I could hear was the echo of days gone by..."wait for it...wait for it...wait for it!"  Just as the tinge of guilt tried it's thieving ways the light changed, and I caught a final glimpse of her as I drove on, laughing full-hearted from the sidewalk as she looked up and saw the lightpost full and ready for their next target!