Snoopy's Happy Dance

Today's meditation from Upper Room Discipline is from 1 Thessalonians 5: 16-18.
 ^16-18Be cheerful no matter what; pray all the time; thank God no matter what happens. This is the way God wants you who belong to Christ Jesus to live.

I always think of Snoopy's Happy Dance when I read this passage. It is an image I have held for over 30 years and it still brings a smile to my face when I think of it.
From URD meditation: What we know is that we must keep praying, keep seeking the alignment of our spirits with the Holy Spirit that results in forming lives of holiness and faithfulness. ... These practices position us to receive the blessing of wholeness: an integration of spirit, soul, and body. Thus we become complete, sound, and holy.
 Upper Room, Disciplines 2011 (Kindle Locations 4595-4597, and 4603-4604). Unknown. Kindle Edition.

In light of the news we received yesterday that the recovery and restoration of the basement was not covered by our insurance, it is a timely Scripture. My nature is to wallow in the "woe is me" mindset. But God calls us to trust Him, that He will be with us in whatever the world delivers, and He will meet our needs, whatever they may be.

I don't believe that God will necessarily rain money from heaven (although He is capable of doing this, it is not generally how he chooses to act.). But I do believe that God will help us find a way through this both financially and emotionally.

As I was in my prayer time, I asked God to make His presence known to me, and to release from me all the barriers I put up to keep Him out. I had a sense of dancing with God: ballroom, ballet and and then an old fashion hoe down. I laughed at God's sense of humor. I felt joy in knowing God is with me whatever my circumstances may be.

I thank God for this season of Advent as we prepare to receive God's Son once more. Amen.

Meanderings

I am having great difficulty focusing my mind. I feel as if the neurons are firing all over the place. The fear comes in because I can't tell if this is some type of fire storm before they burn themselves out, or, more of a firing up for some great project ahead. It feels as though my life could go either way at this point.

I have a leaden inertia that makes it impossible to move, sometimes to breathe. I think of so many things I want to do, want to try, but I remain unmoved, still, dead.

Take this writing project I have tried; NaNoWeiMo. My heart is so full of stories but I am unable to find the translation key, to change these things in my heart into words. I feel this is true in many areas of my life. My heart is full of love for my family, but I rarely tell them that I love them. I always feel so awkward when I do, as if I am afraid my love will not be returned. I am so insecure, and yet I suspect that most people who know me wouldn't suspect that about me. I have spent a lot of my life hiding, and protecting my inner most thoughts.

Except with God. I pour out my heart to God, but  I rarely feel God's love, presence. I know God is present, and there is no way I can explain that knowledge. It is one of those things in my heart for which I am unable to find words. There have been a few special moments when God was so near that I could reach out and touch Him. (yes, I refer to God in terms of "Him" although I believe God is somehow both male and female. After all, we are all created in God's image.) And i certainly experience the results of God's presence with/in me.

There are the dreams I had about Ted, that we would marry, at a time I was very far from feeling that. I laughed at the time, until Ted proposed to me very unexpectedly. (I was trying to break up with him permanently.) Boy did I feel the full impact of God's presence that day!

There are the series of GIM journey's in which God was present to me; sitting with Jesus in the empty tomb, hearing the chorus of angels sing of God's love for me, being a small child cradled in God's arms. And those moments when I went walking in Wissahickon Creek, feeling the sunshine through the tree leaves and knowing God was with me.

But I have spent so much of my life hovering in the back of a dark, dank, cave of depression. I know God is with me there, but I so want to be released into God's light. I think that is why  I crave AZ so much. Somehow, there, I can feel the sunshine, at least some of the time. The deep blue sky fills my heart and I can breathe again. But even here in AZ, I hibernate. I don't leave the house for days. I wonder at times if I will ever leave, and then I muster the energy and go out.

I have no idea what the purpose of this discourse is. I am wandering "bunny trails". But somehow this is expressing my very confused and frightened heart right now.

I have no purpose and that scares me. Why am I still living if I have no purpose? There is a strong part of me that has been ready to let go of this life for such a long time. I just don't have the energy to keep trying. But I don't want to leave Ted and Aaron and Becca and Bernadetta and Konrad. I love them each so deeply. I want to support each of them as best I can. But I fear that I am more of a drain than a support, especially for Ted. He has been such a wonderful husband; more than I could have ever hoped or dreamed. I have no doubt that he has has been absolutely faithful to me. How many women are able to say that in this day and age? He has carried me throughout our life together. My depression has made functioning so difficult so much of the time. And yet he has stayed with me.

There were times when I felt so distant and cut off from Ted.He has too often been a slave to his work and I felt abandoned. I am amazed that he still feels so insecure about his value at work. Even now he seems to have times when he fears he will be fired.

And there are so many people who seem to have such close relationships with their children, but I rarely have meaningful conversations about life and love and hopes and fears with my kids. It comes back to that business with the full heart and no way to translate all those feelings into words. I care deeply about their happiness, and am so proud of the wonderful adults they have become, but so rarely tell them so.

And Konrad! I want to be his go-to granny, but don't know how to relate to him. He is so physical and I am such a lump. I gaze at his pictures on my computer and am amazed at what an amazing child he is; so creative, fun, intelligent. But I have no idea how to heal or channel his dark side; his deep anger at times, so like Aaron, and, apparently Bernadetta as well. Poor kid; a double whammy of angst!



And I wish they could each know God's love. Even though I don't feel God as I would wish, I KNOW that He loves me, and died for me so that we could have relationship. I wish for that peace and knowledge for each of them as well.

And that brings me full circle to my time of Centering Prayer. I can't get my brain to quiet, to listen for God's Voice. My mind runs in circles and over hill and dale. I never have a sense of God's presence during my prayer time. I rarely have a moment of inspiration or insight from God. And yet my life is richer when I spend time trying to listen for God's Voice.

All this has poured forth from my 20 minutes of listening.

God of heaven and earth:
Have mercy on me, a sinner saved by Your grace. thank you that in all these meanderings, You know my heart. You know the fullness and the emptiness that I so often feel. you alone are able to hold all the opposites of who I am in one being.
Help me to have the confidence of Your presence and the ability to hear your voice.
Help me find purpose in serving You. Help me to know HOW I am to serve You at this point in my life.
In Jesus' Holy Name I pray, AMEN!

Put the Poor & Working People First

In today's meditation from Upper Room Disciplines 2011, the author starts off by saying he had seen a political poster for a little known political party that said, "Put the Poor & Working People First". He made the observation that this was not a very savvy way to win in politics since the poor and working class had no one in privileged positions or with "clout" - money, prestige and access.

"Who in the world could truly put “poor and working people first” as a matter of principle? Then it occurred to me that Jesus is the guy who says “the greatest among you will be your servant.” That must have sounded positively ludicrous in a hierarchical society like Roman-ruled, first-century Palestine. And it still makes us pretty uncomfortable in much of our contemporary society."
Upper Room,  (2011-01-24). Disciplines 2011 (Kindle Locations 4026-4029). Unknown. Kindle Edition.

Today's scripture is from Matthew 23:1-12

Matthew 23:11-12

The Message (MSG)

^11-12"Do you want to stand out? Then step down. Be a servant. If you puff yourself up, you'll get the wind knocked out of you. But if you're content to simply be yourself, your life will count for plenty.

I am very puzzled by the Republican veneer that they are the "better" Christians because they love God & country, but have little room in their view point for caring for the poor, widowed and orphaned. I wonder what Bible they read. Jesus was humble, concerned about the welfare of others, especially the vulnerable in society. And he repeatedly calls us to do likewise.

I do agree that our country needs to address the deficit in a planned, systematic manner. It is a dangerous albatross around our necks. But I believe that getting people working is a far more successful approach than making draconian cuts to the budget, especially in the human service areas. Our country is only as strong as its weakest members. Making sure that people have education, medical services, affordable housing, clean air to breathe, and safe food to eat needs a national approach to be effective. And these services will elevate us all.

Creator God: I pray that You will guide our leadership locally, on the state level and nationally to work together to heal our country, to provide for the needs of the most vulnerable, and to require all citizens and large corporations to pay their fair share.
In Jesus' Holy Name I pray, AMEN!

Who Forms Whom

Bible Gateway passage: 1 Thessalonians 2:7-8 - The Message

http://www.biblegateway.com/passage/?sea...

Even though we had some standing as Christs apostles we never threw our weight around or tried to come across as important with you or anyone else We weren't aloof with you. We took you just as you were. We were never patronizing, never condescending, but we cared for you the way a mother cares for her children. We loved you dearly. Not content to just pass on the Message, we wanted to give you our hearts. And we did.

From Upper Room Disciplines 2011

Spiritual formation is a tender process that includes disappointments, losses, grief—and includes joys and delights. We share with others not only our good news of Christ but our hearts as well. In the process of intentionally helping to form others we too are being formed. We learn to be gentle, tender, caring, and to give of ourselves more fully.

Room, Upper (2011-10-23). Disciplines 2011 (Kindle Locations 3992-3993). Unknown. Kindle

Edition.

This is from the Upper Room Daily meditation for today.  God works in mysterious ways. We become trained as spiritual directors or spiritual friends and think we are going to help others move closer to God. But we find that God draws US closer to Himself. He/She works through us tontouch the hearts of those we serve, but we are also transformed.

I tried as best I could to offer my work in this same spirit. Though far from perfect in acheiving this, I tried to interact with residents, staff and other stakeholders as a humble servant, not boastful and full of myself. I had my door open so that I could interact with anyone who sought my attention. I tried to listen as openly as I could, and offer suggestions, not issue demands. As the director, I had to make decisions that were best for the whole program, but I always tried to be as fair as possible. I encouraged independence as much as one was able to handle, and tried to create an atmosphere of interdependence. I readily admitted that I did not have all the answers and sought the wisdom of others.

And I received so much more than I could ever give. I was humbled by the courage of those around me to face each day with difficult mental health, or economic, or relational situations. I was blessed by the overwhelming attitude of caring that the residents showed one another, and, the staff showed the residents and each other. I readily had something for which to thank God each and every day.

Thessalonians is a passage i would recommend in any employment handbook as a guide for how we should all behave, especially in human services positions. I wish I had a training or teaching outlet. God has filled me with so many experiences and blessings, I would love to have a way to share them with others.

Creator of the Universe:

Thank You that Your plans are so much more than we can ever hope or dream. Thank You that You work from a Heavenly economy and not out of the meagerly attitudes of us humans. Thank You that when you call us to serve others, You bless us beyond anything we could possible do/give to others. Thank You for Your love and mercy "created new every day"!

AMEN!

Stirrings from The Help

I am about 1/3 of the way through the book, The Help. It has stirred up lots of memories, sad, happy, confusing. I grew up in an all white community, a suburb of Columbus, OH. My mother and I would take the bus from Grandview Heights to downtown Columbus to go shopping. Shopping malls had not yet developed. We would drive past an area of town where I only saw colored people (the phrase we used in the early 50's). I would ask mommy who they were, why they lived there, why white people didn't live there. I have no memory of what my mom answered. I probably knew it was a lame platitude.

My dad was different. If I talked to him about colored people, he would explain that all people were loved by God, but not all people were loved by other people. He would say things like, "Some people  hate things they don't understand because they feel afraid, but don't want to show their fear.

We attended an all white Methodist church. We had a colored janitor. He worked at the church from 4PM until 10pm. I heard it was his 2nd job and wondered when he had time to sleep or spend time with his family. On Thursday nights, my parents attended choir practice. If my older sister was not at home, I would have to go to church with them. There was library at the church that had a big chalk board. My parents would leave me in there and I would draw on the chalk board. I felt like a big kid who goes to school. I loved playing "school".

Tommy, our black janitor, would come in to polish the wood chairs and the big table. He would draw letters on the board and I would copy them. He was very kind, and sometimes would tell me colored stories. I wish I had known how to write back then so that I could write the stories down.

My dad would bring his old clothes to Tommy and tell him to give them to whoever he thought they would fit. Sometimes I would see Tommy wearing a shirt that daddy gave him several weeks later. He told daddy thank you for the suit onr time. Tommy said he wore it to church every Sunday. That night I asked Tommy why he didn't come to our church since he was there so much. He said he attended a church close to where he lived.

My house was on the main street through Grandview. There was a bus stop in front of our next door neighbor's home. There was a small incline from the sidewalk to my neighbor's yard. I was a talkative child (big surprise. In the afternoon, shortly after my nap a group of 3-4 colored women would wait on the corner for their bus so they could go home. I would come and sit on the incline and talk with these ladies. Some were very friendly and talked and smiled. Others were more stern looking or quiet. One woman brought me a cooky she had baked that day. I knew her name was Mabel and that she cleaned house and cooked dinner at my friends house down the street.

When my mommy and I would go shopping downtown, we would walk on big sidewalks, wide enough for two or three people to walk side by side going one direction and 2-3 people walking the other direction with room to pass each other. My favorite store was Lazarus. It was a one block walk from the bus stop to Lazarus. One sunny day we were enjoying the walk, and I noticed an old, bent colored man walking toward us on the sidewalk. When he was within a few steps of us, he step down to the street and walked past us, and then stepped back up on the sidewalk after he passed us. I turned around to watch the man. I asked mommy why he went in the street. She said thatere used to be laws that said he HAD to do that, but the laws had been changed. She said she thought he may still follow the custom since he had lived most of his life with these laws and it was ingrained in his behavior now. I thought it was really stupid to make anyone step down into the dirt and garbage often in the gutter below the sidewalk.

When I turned 12, in 1962, there were stories on the news about people trying to integrate schools and buses in the south, and picketting and marching for equal waged in the north. I began to understand the significance of all the experiences in my earlier childhood.

I still ache for the pain caused by ignorance and hate. My parents were not activists in the civil rights movement, but they taught a clear message that all people need to be judged by their own behavior, not because of the race or religion or their culture. I am grateful that they didn't instill hate in me.

Lazarus had beautiful annimated displays in the windows during December, showing Santa's Workshop or scenes from The Nutcracker. It was always an enchanted place to visit. There were 3 large widows facing High Street leading to the corner, and then 2 more large windows around the corner on Rich Street. The windows on Rich Street were located higher up the wall because the side walk leaned down the hill of Rich Street. There were two water fountains along the wall. Closest  to the corner, the fountain had a brass plate that said "Whites Only". Further down the hill there was a second fountain that had a white sign that said, "Colored only". I never paid much attention until I learned to read. When I sounded out the words on each sign, I was so surprised! When I asked mommy about it she said that some people believed that colored people carried disseases and needed to drink at a separate fountain so that white people wouldn't get sick. She said that science has proven this is not true, but some people still believe it.

In the belly of the whale

I can't shake this depression. I feel swallowed up, in a dark, dank, depressing place. And I can't find a way out. I am feeling overwhelmingly sorry for myself, and that just makes me mad at me. Such a wuss; such a cry baby; such a lazy bitch I am. If people really knew me they would hate me.
So I have retreated into myself even more. I rarely go out. I really don't care about much of anything. I am pathetic.
Creator God, I can't get out of the belly of the whale. You are the onlt one who can set me free. And yet you don't. How can I serve you, spread Your Message or share Your love to others when I am stuck in this belly? I have asked, begged and pleaded to be set free, and yet here I am in the belly.
I know that apart from You I cannot breathe. I know that apart from You I cannot live. And yet it feels as if I am not really living right now.
Set me free, I pray. Help me to emerge from this belly, with joy, and life and love and energy and determination.
In Jesus' Holy Name I pray. AMEN!

Last night I dreamt ...

I took a bus trip with others that I knew. It was a group from church and we were going to a special performance of a special play.
We arrived at a camp-type setting with a complex of several buildings.
We went into the performance building where we sat in a balcony. The performance was on the floor below. It looked a bit like a gym.
People from the local small town were the performers, and I had a great deal of difficulty understanding them. Some had thick hill-billy accents, and others did not speak up loudly enough.
Several of us complained that we were unable to hear the dialogue.
I was given a special electronic device to help me hear, but it did not work. I was very frustrated and angry. When the performance came to a close, the group filed out but I stayed behind to speak to the organizers of the performance. I complained about the amaturic level of the performance and told them that it was not fair to offer such a poor performance when we had traveled so far and paid so much money.
When I exited the building, I was unable to find my group. I searched around several buildings, but there was no sign of them.
I saw someone who seemed to be part of the host group, and asked her where my group was. She directed me to a building. I entered, but it was not my group. I stayed for a while to listen to what was happening. There was a discussion of the play going on. Then the group wasdismissed to have their dinner.
I was still unable to find my group. I was becoming afraid that I wouldnot be able to find them. One guide suggested that my group had left without me and that I needed to travel back with a different group. But I knew that my bus would not leave without me.
I woke up very sad and very scared. I began weeping.
I felt abandoned and afraid, but I don't know what I was afraid of exactly.
The sense of loneliness seemed overwhelming.