Which is the threat?

From Ellie at Child of Illusion:

I need to grow up!

On June 11, I wrote the post below and did not post it. Now I am realizing it describes a defense mechanism of mine that does not help me anymore with me in my 50's. With an alcoholic father who raged and criticized, I learned to be passive and out of the way (or running away). Unfortunately, that reaction kicks in when I am criticized and no words or thought goes on except, "It must be my fault."

Yesterday I met with an infrequently meeting Emmaus Reunion Group for lunch in a restaurant. There were six women there. First one woman blasted me for over 10 minutes about emails I have sent out about the Methodist Church, most especially Jim Winkler's article"Shake the gates of hell!" and other ones about homosexuality. As she talked tears spilled down my face. She said she didn't know what denomination I was or if I had any domination, but I was vindictively attacking the Methodist Church and her. Then I shared about my insights of "More" while trying not to cry and also saying I'd never meant to hurt anyone and only shared with friends what I found to be meaningful. After that another person poured all her own hurt feelings on me, saying I kept her from speaking her truth. I kept crying, and here I am a person who formerly could not cry! No one else said anything; I felt that everyone agreed.

Since then four women have apologized, even the two who attacked me. As I try to let go of the hurt, I told them to let go, also.

My gut reaction is that I'm glad I am no longer a member of that Methodist Church. It was the place that gave me my first experience of community, and I have had a hard time letting go of it. This is it.

I also see that I am not responsible for other people's feelings, though I still take that on. I want to be more aware in the moment of MORE--instead of falling into the poor little girl stance. God is beckoning me to grow up.

Now here's what I wrote on June 11, which is pertinent to the above. Grow up, Jan!

Do you ever feel like a little kid in trouble?

I realized (again) that I do when people lecture me from a point of know-it-all-ness. I find no words to respond, often even when I know I am right or at least have a right to my own opinion. I am not in these situations very often, but have been reflecting on a recent conversation where I had nothing to say, even though I was not in the wrong.

I didn't even think of praying "Bless _________, change me."

Today I am thinking about conversations and how these are much more comfortable and connecting when each person is talking as an equal, no up or down--better or worse. Guess this partly goes back to the use of "I" statements, rather than blanket criticisms.

What I am objecting to are people who act like theirs is the only "correct" answer(s) and keep pounding away with these facts/opinions.

Honestly, Horace. . . . .

By Rose Rigden

I bought this postcard at the Johannesburg Airport in June 2006 when we were returning to the USA from Zambia. It is still on my refrigerator. I chuckle whenever I see it.

More

Yesterday's lectio divina group meditated upon Matthew 10:29-31:

10:29 Are not two sparrows sold for a penny? Yet not one of them will fall to the ground apart from your Father.

10:30 And even the hairs of your head are all counted.

10:31 So do not be afraid; you are of more value than many sparrows.

I kept hearing the word "more." I was surprised at the direction my thoughts and prayer went, but that so often happens during lectio. I know I was influenced by reading Richard Rohr's book Things Hidden: Scripture as Spirituality, remembering where he wrote:

“There seems to be a ‘structural blindness’ for people who are content and satisfied on the inside of groups. They do not realize that it is largely a belonging system that they have created for themselves." (92)

“Structural blindness might even be more prevalent than personal blindness. The group itself often keeps you from truth and your own sincerity.” (99)

I realized how often I limit my perceptions, my senses, and my understanding to the concrete and obvious. There is always more. There is more to each person I meet, even though I may think they are "blind." As Richard Rohr writes, "It is important to know that people can be personally well-intentioned and sincere, but structurally they cannot see certain things." (92) There is even more to me than I know!

Each moment has more. Please, O Holy One, help to pay attention and remember there is MORE.

And that brings me to remember the quoted prayer that used to be on my sidebar, but is now at the bottom of this blog:

Help me see the good
and the bad,
O God,
as equal opportunities
to lean closer
into your loving embrace.

Praying this helps me to be aware of MORE.

What is your religion?

Often people will ask, "What's your religion?" Usually they are looking for a denomination. Gandhi had a different reply, "You must watch my life, how I live, eat, sit, talk, behave in general. The sum total of all those in me is my religion."

"My Turn" from Newsweek Magazine

Two friends from opposite coasts of the U.S. emailed me about "My Turn" in the most recent Newsweek, and then I read about it at Musings of an Episcopal Padre. The essay is entitled "Let Me Worship as I Am." It is by Jimmy Doyle and tells his journey as a gay man in finding a spiritual home in the Episcopal Church. This makes me proud to be an Episcopalian.

I chuckled when he wrote of his discomfort with the general opinion of "Christian" as a category, something I struggle with when classed with the prevailing idea of Christianity as fundamentalists on the loose judging everyone else.

"The very word 'Christian' makes me wish I'd had a Druid spiritual awakening. In today's lexicon, Christian is equated with fanatics who need God to be as human as can be: male, full of pride and hate, war-loving and with a voting record that can only be described as shortsighted. For me to have found the answer to my spiritual hunger in the teachings of Jesus was at best highly inconvenient."

I know LGBT people have difficulties with the judgment and condemnation felt from Christians and Christian churches, and so I was glad Doyle could write:

"As my partner's Mormon mother would say, I have a testimony. I was created by God, who works through all of his creation, and I've been gay as a handbag since birth. . . .And I have faith that I will stand in front of the altar of God and commit my life to the man I love, with smells and bells and without secrecy. It is right to stand before God as I am, and speak my own truth."

Luckily, he and his partner live in California, where it is now legal to be married as same-sex partners. I hope and pray that this will become true for my daughter and her partner in Washington State.

Go here to read the rest of the article.

And connected with this is the happy story of an older lesbian couple who now can marry in California, as posted by Choral Girl.

How God screams at us

Jack Nelson-Pallmeyer once found himself walking through the streets of Calcutta, so enraged by the poverty that he wanted to scream at God, “How can you allow such suffering?” Then he came to a painful realization: “In the suffering of the poor God was screaming at me, in fact at all of us and at our institutions and social systems that cause and perpetuate hunger, poverty, and inequality.”

Jack Nelson Pallmeyer, Hunger for Justice. Maryknoll, NY: Orbis Books, 1980. vii.

Delete

Home again, home again, jiggedy-jog!

This is what the land looks like in the Texas hill country. When CB and I went on an early walk this morning, it was cool (about 70 degrees F.) and we saw these alpacas and a two ponies in a field.

It was wonderful to see MJ, along with four other girls and one boy from camp. We stayed in the double-wide trailer of one of the girls' parents. It was a quiet evening, because MJ stayed there with us while the others went into Kerrville to shop and eat. We enjoyed being with her.

There are 13 beds in that trailer, and the family opens it to lots of people! They are very hospitable. They also provide the facilities for the kids to wash their clothes. The washing machine and dryer were running almost all the time with the bags full of dirty clothes and linens these kids had brought with them from the past week at camp. (All are counselors at LLYC.)

It was funny how loaded our car was when we traveled there, because other parents found out we were driving to see MJ. Three workers' parents brought over cookies and stuff to take to them, and a camper's mother gave me a huge bag of surprises for her daughter and niece, who happen to be in MJ's cabin. Poor MJ had to deliver all that--to two different camp sites.

Each camp session lasts for two weeks. The camp workers and counselors, like MJ, are there for six weeks.

We had lunches in both San Antonio and Fredericksburg. Yesterday, for Father's Day, we had a nice lunch with son DC and his wife AA. They generously drove from Austin to San Antonio to meet us. Today we drove to Fredericksburg to visit friends who retired there from Corpus Christi. Good meals and wonderful companionship for our two lunches.

We got home at about 6 pm tonight. Cisco and Baillie, our two dogs were glad to see us, and Gracie the cat did not run and hide when we walked in. It is good to be home, especially after driving 550 miles in only 32 hours!

Father's Day travels

This is the road into Laity Lodge Youth Camp, where MJ is a camp counselor until July 12. You may (or may not) remember that she left for this summer job one hour after her graduation ceremony two weeks ago.

On Sunday, which is Father's Day, MJ has the day off from 1 pm to 1 pm on Monday. So husband CB and I are driving all the way to Leakey to be with her for maybe 20 hours. It is 196 miles from Corpus Christi. The trip will be extended somewhat because we are also going to meet oldest son DC and his wife AA in San Antonio for lunch before going on to meet MJ.

My grandmother's birthday

Today would be my grandmother's birthday. I always remembered it connected with Flag Day, which was always observed on the Marine bases where I grew up. She was my father's mother, Brunie, who grew up in a poor family in Arkansas. Her parents died when she was young, so her older sister took care of all the children left behind. Brunie married John K. when she was only 14 and soon after had my dad, their only child. (I'm an only child, too.)

What is a little odd is that today I remember my father more than his mother. He would always call me on her birthday to remind me of the date, even though she had died years ago. My dad died in 2002, but somehow I am missing him a little bit today, much more than I expect to tomorrow--on Father's Day.

Just as my dad had a love/hate relationship with his mother, so was my connection somewhat gnarly with my father. When he was alive, I found it irritating that he would call to remind me on my mother's and his mother's birthdays to remind me, as if I didn't know. Now that's something I miss.

This is the only picture I could find of Mineral Springs, Arkansas, where Brunie lived and where my dad grew up. This is the view from this point on Hwy 107 N. looking across Magness Creek to Mineral Springs, Arkansas

"The Silent Wave" in Africa

"The Silent Wave," 2006 Lurie Award winner, Alberto Sabat, La Nacion, Argentina

(Look under "illustrations" to find this picture with the link above.)

Winner, First Prize, Editorial Cartoon section, World Press Cartoon, 2006
Winner, First Prize, United Nations Correspondents Association “Ranan Lurie” Award, 2006

The cartoonist is Alberto Sabat, the cartoon was published in La Nacion in Argentina. The award is named after the outstanding cartoonist Ranan Lurie, who himself was once nominated for a Nobel Peace Prize for his cartoons that promoted peace and understanding.

I first saw this painting here.

Why you should vote Republican!

I have seen this video on various blogs, but first received it from daughter in Seattle two days ago. I just watched it again and found the sarcasm so revealing about the promises of the Republican party that I am going to post it here. Maybe one of you haven't seen it yet. If so, watch it now!

Friday Five: Beach Trip

Mother Laura posted questions about beach trips at RevGalBlogPals. Since I live pretty close to beaches being in Corpus Christi, TX, the above picture seemed appropriate.

So in honor of summer, please share your own beachy memories, plans, and dreams with a "Beach Trip" Friday Five.

1. Ocean rocks, lake limps? Vice versa? Or "it's all beautiful in its own way"?
I mostly grew up with beaches in the Pacific Northwest, which are usually rocky and rugged. But for 30 years (off and on) we've lived on the Gulf Coast of Texas, where the beaches are long and sandy. I love looking for shells and rocks in the Northwest, but there aren't many down here.

So I'd say I love beaches in any form (except polluted and dirty).

2. Year round beach living: Heaven...or the Other Place?
I would love to live on the beach all year round, especially on an Oregon beach.

3. Any beach plans for this summer?
Not really.

4. Best beach memory ever?
I have wonderful memories of husband CB and I taking our babies and toddlers to Mustang Island State Park every weekend on hot summer days. I would often sit under an umbrella, nursing a baby and watching everyone play. We liked that state park, because vehicles were not allowed to be driven on the sand, which happens at public beaches in TX.

I also loved the times we could walk on Newport, OR beaches when we lived in Oregon while CB was going to grad school (long, long ago). Sometimes on vacations we would go visit there, and the times at Gold Beach and Lincoln City with the children are memorable. It would often by cold, but there was such fun looking for shells and rocks--and the kids would play in the sand, climb the rocks, and build forts with the driftwood.

5. Fantasy beach trip?
A few years ago, after CB helped AE move up to Seattle, he and I went on a driving trip back to TX and stayed several days in a house on Gold Beach. I would so like to do that again, and the house was big enough to have all our children join us. That would be a fantasy come true!

Rearranging the Sidebar

Cluttered sidebar makes me want to move things out of the way. I'm not ready to give up the prayers and links, so I will put them down at the bottom, out of the way for now, but still visible (for me).

Help me see the good
and the bad,
O God,
as equal opportunities
to lean closer
into your loving embrace.

O, Begin!

Fix some part of every day for private exercises. . . .

Whether you like it or no, read and pray daily.

It is for your life; there is no other way:

else you will be a trifler all your days. . . .

Do justice to your own soul;

give it time and means to grow.

Do not starve yourself any longer.

~~John Wesley

Travel plans for October!

With the fear that airlines will keep on raising their rates, I made my plane reservations tonight to visit my elderly cousin Margaret in Calgary, Alberta, Canada in October! She is the last person in my mother's family that knows a lot of information about the family, which I would like to document while I'm there. (I don't remember enough of my mother's stories, sad to say.)

When she visited me in Texas about five years ago, she told me the story of why she and my mother, who were cousins growing up near Leask, Saskatchewan, Canada together, were both named "Margaret." Their mothers, who were sisters, had taveled with brothers and sisters to Canada some time before, but had left their oldest sister Meg in Scotland. Meg was unable to have children, and so both mothers named their daughters "Margaret" in honor of Meg, even though the two "Margarets" would be living together in the same house on the prairies.

I'll travel to Calgary on September 30, and then on October 9 will go to SEATTLE to visit my daughter AE and partner KA!! Then I'll fly home to Corpus Christi on October 14. It is a long time away, plus it seems very far off right now. Still, I am excited!

Indy and a gallon of gas

By John Deering, The Arkansas Democrat-Gazette

You are the light!

Universe

". . . God, who can wait for fourteen billion years and can allow this universe to unfold on its own as if it were separate from God!"

Richard Rohr, Things Hidden: Scripture as Spirituality, 98.

Artist's view of star formation in the early universe. By Adolf Schaller. Source: NASA.

Food prices help?