Strength

Strength - I has it.

And it doesn't come from within me.

God is definitely real. There is no way I have gotten thru the past two chaotic, messy months without someone steering my ship. I certainly don't have the ability to do this on my own.

While I do like to compartmentalize my experiences into easily digested chunks - the truth is we don't get thru our daily lives without God walking with us. Without his encouragement - even when we aren't listening to him.

And that is, to me, the best part. God is with us - even when we patently ignore him. He stays by our sides when we dismiss his quiet messages. Or even when he hits us with a 2x4 on the head.

He never leaves us. We are never alone. And even more - his love for us never fails. 

God's love is the true unconditional love. No matter who should give it to us - God will always give his love to us.

Peace (with a little joy thrown in)

Here we are - another week coming to a close. And another wild one it has been. Work continues to confound with the pace. It increases with every passing month. I wonder - is it me? I'm 3 years away from retirement...at least that is the plan. Lately I've been thinking about ducking out a bit earlier than that.

I just don't want to leave hubby having to toil in corporate america without me by his side on our daily commute together. We have done that for over 30 years and it has been such a blessing to us both. We have that guaranteed time in the car to be with each other without interruptions. Many times we have talked through issues, plans, work annoyances. And equally many we have just held hands and sat in the silence.

Truly a deep blessing. So I'm not sure I could consign him to doing that drive alone. But we shall see what happens in the coming year. I need a couple of major surgeries and a minor procedure. Nothing serious and it's all for the good.  And I'm pondering when I engage my doctors to get them scheduled.

The house renovation is finally come to a close. Nearly 8 weeks of disruption, mess, chaos, more mess, more chaos. By this coming Tuesday all the paraphernalia that accompanies such projects - huge dumpsters, POD storage boxes, etc...will be gone from the property. We have, of course, much work to do inside as we unpack and basically move back into half of our home. And after these past 8 weeks, that will just be fun.

So we are here today - sitting in the quiet of my brand new kitchen - seeing the sun come streaming thru the last of the autumn leaves. Beautiful colors of gold, red, russet, mahogany and - yes - even a bit of green yet to change. The wind is a bit brisk so I suspect this is "peak" weekend in New England. Those leaves will start falling at a quicker pace daily.

And the peace that I feel - from the abundance God showed me a few weeks ago, to working thru the vulnerabilities of the past 8 weeks, to this glorious autumn morning. A peace that truly transcends everything. And dare I say it - a bit of joy as well.

Joy because the chaos is finally over. Joy because this renovation is far more beautiful than we could imagine. Joy at seeing a 7 year long dream & plan come to fruition. Joy at having the wherewithal to embark on this dream.

Peace because...well God is by our sides always, isn't he? Guiding us, showing us the way. 

Always turning to God, thru is son, our wonderful savior Jesus Christ, definitely gives us peace. Maybe things don't always go the way we think they should. But we are not in control here, are we.

No we are not.

That is our struggle as human beings. To give control to God thru constant prayer. And beyond that, listening - really listening - to God's voice in our daily lives. His messages are never-ending if we only open up to hearing them.

Because real peace - the kind that I am feeling in this moment - can only come from the blessings of God.

More Abundance

 

It is the most glorious time of year in New England. That special crisp air that has a tang you smell at no other time. The breezes that shower you with the glorious colors of the changing leaves.

Autumn - is finally here. My favorite season.

It's chilly - even with a 70 degree sun the breeze keeps the air cool. You need a cozy sweatshirt to sit out on the deck.

Which is what I am doing right now. Old sweatpants, a worn out t-shirt that is 3 sizes too big and a soft hooded sweatshirt that is soothing & comforting to wear.

Thanking God with each breath in a silent prayer. For the beauty of a fall day, for the Zinnias that keep blooming, for the Moonflowers that are still curled up tight. For our precious birdies - the ones who are here all year round, who give us comfort & solace on even the rainiest day (which will be tomorrow).

I've been feeling vulnerable this past week. A huge house renovation will be complete in about 10 days. It's been a long 6 weeks of chaos and whole-house uproar. This past week has been brutal at work and completely upended at home. Everyday there is someone in the house working on something. It's wonderful - and unnerving - at the same time.

And while it's all good and the people are lovely - it's left me feeling a bit unsafe in my own home.

So today I sit on our deck, listening to the leaves rustle in the wind, hear the birds chirping and I know deep within my soul that God is keeping watch over me. 

As he always does.

Abundance

"Happiness can be found in the darkest of places. All you need to do is turn on the light." 

-Albus Dumbledore, Headmaster of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft & Wizardry

Sunrise from the summit of Mt. Washington, NH

Who knew that peace could be found in words from the legendary Harry Potter ( and from my personal favorite in the series, Prisoner of Azbakan).

Last night, just before Mass began, God turned a light on me and within me in a moment of pure poetry.

With the late afternoon sun beginning to set behind me, God shone a light thru the stained glass windows in the front of the church.

A direction from which no light should shine at that time of night. And yet there it was - a beautiful stream of angelic white light.

And a word whispered into my ear - so faint I had to ask for a repeat - "abundance".

Abundance.

In the midst of years of struggles, emotional pain, betrayals, and general life messiness - this single word has transformed me.

It will need time to settle on me fully -  yet in those 3 simple syllables I find myself turning towards that light. Instead of shunning it - I embrace it.

Hubby and I are starting to plan our graceful exit from the challenges of corporate america. Three short years and we will, with God's will, move onto the next phase of our lives.

It is not missed by me that this message from God serves as a reminder of all that has passed - and all that is yet to be.

While I have had a life marked by abuse until my 20s, then health struggles through my 30s & 40s, then the emotional upheaval in my 50s that is tied directly to the abuses of my past.

And here I am, 61 years old, and finally - FINALLY - I have reached that moment when "abundance" defines the happiness and blessings in my life.

Just a few short years ago it could have defined the abundant horrors & nightmares.

Now ... I feel like it's the right time for me to embrace God's message and really focus on the manifest blessings - and only those.

And because it's Sunday you get a twofer - my Sunday Symphony below was the Presentation of the Gifts song at Mass last night.

I fall on my knees to the father of Jesus,
The Lord who has shown us the glory of God.

May he in his love give us strength for our living
The strength of his spirit the glory of God.

May Christ find a dwelling place of faith in our hearts.
May our lives be rooted in love, rooted in love.

Rooted in love - indeed.

Rooted in abundance & blessings.

Grounding

My heart is sore. My mind is whirling. Shoulders are hunched up around my ears. It's been a brutal week at work. Crazy busy, demands coming from every side, every corner. Just when I thought I might be catching up to myself - more demands came pouring thru the cracks. The kind of week when I enter the weekend feeling like I've left pieces of myself behind.

Yesterday as my workday wound down I found myself at odds with the world. Feeling like I was walking thru some kind of dystopian world. Everything was off-kilter, as if my feet were on a heaving ship in a whirlwind storm.

Knowing this would wind me up to an inevitable (and likely inappropriate) explosion, I went outside in the sanctuary of my backyard. Communing with nature - listening to my beloved songbirds, inhaling the unique scent of grass warmed by the late summer sun, gazing at the lush gardens and greenery - is a surefire way for me to come back to myself.

Grounding. 

Letting my feet rest in the grass, feeling the sunshine on my body, clearing my head with fresh air. 

And praying. Praying ceaselessly.

Praying until I think God must be tired of hearing from me.

Then - praying some more.

In that space, the Holiest Mother - Mary - sent me the most divine message of love and peace. 

A beautiful Ruby Throated Hummingbird. Not the male you see here but a sweet female. She buzzed around my head, twice. She let me watch her while she sipped the sweet nectar of the abundant flowers around her (and me). In those moments, Holy Mary showed me the way to slow down my frantic psyche, to embrace the solitude of the moment.

And today - as half my house is being torn apart in a long-awaited renovation - my shoulders are not hunched around my ears. My mind is still whirring away but that's more about the happy chaos in the house than anything else.

Prayer. Is powerful. For a few moments my heart was calmed thru a simple conversation with God.

Sunday Prayer

My God I come to take your touch before I begin my day. Let my beautiful eyes rest upon your beautiful eyes for a while. Let me take into my day the assurance of your friendship. Fill my mind to last through the desert of noise.

Let your blessed sunshine flood the peaks and valleys of my soul, so that I may be loving and strong for anyone who may need me this day.

In the name of our Lord & Savior, Jesus Christ, amen.

On Being Christadelphian

As I mentioned a couple of weeks ago, I am starting to explore writing about my faith journey. As with any experience it requires context.

There are five overarching areas that I hope to cover:

1. Family Life
2. A Profound Death
3. We All Fall Down
4. I Rise
5. I Fall and Rise Again

As I write that I realize I've just come up with the structure of my journey/book. It will be something that, with God by my side, I can "write into". The more I pray on this the more I'm coming to believe this is the right time for me - to recall some extremely painful experiences, emotional & physical, with the nearness of God. He is certainly closer to me now that he was even 10 years ago. Noting that my faith journey spans nearly 50 years.

I know writing this won't be linear. Which will be helpful because, as I approach anything in section 5, I will need God to tell me when to write what because that is the most painful part of my journey and where I really start to welcome God into my heart.

And so I give you another part of what it meant to be Christadelphian in my formative years.

[Recap from Pt 1] - It (Christadelphian) is a strict faith with unyielding rules and beliefs. Not unlike many others. However, Christadelphians believe in a vengeful God even while believing in a benevolent God who gave us our ultimate savior, Jesus Christ. There is also much hate and bigotry taught in Sunday School. That will become important later. Overall, as I look back on it with decades of distance, I can see how my earliest traumas were a result of this hateful, vengeful faith. My inevitable low self-esteem and sense of unworthiness can be traced, in part, to my activities with and belief in being Christadelphian.

On Being Christadelphian, Pt 2 - A Family of Faith

And so, we were a Christadelphian family. We went to church school & services every Sunday. Attended special talks on Sunday nights. Participated in church events and socials. We were not allowed to join in things like voting in any political election or serving in that capacity. We were forbidden from being police officers and military service was a big no-no. Conscientious Objection was the only appropriate response to a wartime draft. Being unequally yoked, meaning married but practicing 2 different faiths, was strictly forbidden with harsh punishments. 

My father was deeply faithful, once declaring that serving his church was the #1 thing in his life, more important to him than his family. He served in several capacities in our church, including as a leader of church services, public speaker, religious guide and counselor, as well as business and  financial advisor. My mother was more agnostic and went along with my father as all good 1950s housewives did. She did what all Christadelphian women were allowed to do - played the organ, served with all the women in their “womanly duties” as defined by the 1950s and 1960s (meaning cleaning the church building, preparing meals and serving them to hungry Christadelphians, and then cleaning up after them), and lent her considerable vocal prowess (she was a trained Mezzo Soprano opera singer) to Sunday services. As a child and even as an adult Christadelphian I followed my mother’s lead, cooking, cleaning, and ministering as a good little woman. Eventually my brother would lead church services and be a speaker. And so too would my husband. At least for a little while.

Being part of a fringe Christian faith was intimidating as a young child. When you are in school, learning who everyone is, the inevitable question about faith comes up. Until I was 10 years old, I applied my young mind to explaining my faith to any friend who asked what brand of Christianity I observed. I spoke with all the passion and eloquence I could muster to share all the ways in which my faith was better than anyone else’s. You see, Christadelphians also teach that they are the only ones who can inherit the Kingdom of God. And if Christadelphians don’t convert others to our way of thinking, then we ourselves are sinners who will be dealt with on judgement day.

Heavy stuff, especially for a little kid trying so much to fit in. My faith made that extremely difficult to be sure. By the age of 10 I had found a new way of answering the question about my faith – we were Protestants. Period. No more uncomfortable conversations, no more strange looks from my friends and classmates. My parents were extremely displeased to learn this is how I explained my faith. They tried to give me words that a 10-year-old would be able to relate to; I listened and did as I pleased anyway. As I look back, I see this as my first rebellion against the constrictions of a fundamentalist faith.

But I would continue to be an obedient Christadelphian daughter, attending services and events happily (at least as much as I could muster so my parents wouldn't make my life more of a living hell than it already was). I’d like to say I made friends in church, and I suppose I did, to a point. We had nothing in common beyond our church identities. Plus being in a fringe religion it’s not like there are tons of others like you in your town or school. The friends I had at church were only seen at church and church events. My parents took the snobbery of being Christadelphian to an enormous degree, feeling that we were better than all the others in our own ecclesia. They saw us in an elevated status, despite that being 100% against the rules of being Christadelphian. We didn’t associate with all those people outside of church. A position which severely hindered my ability to make friends with a common ground.

Up Next: On Being Christadelphian, Pt 3 - Rebellion

I pray to God to keep me safe during this journey, to be with me with every word I type, to guide my voice to conform to his will for me. In Jesus' name, Amen.