My New Book

The Mystery within...

My new book, Both/and Things—The Power in Reflection, is soon to be published. It highlights my growing understanding of the paradoxical nature of everything. In my first memoire, God Never Hurries, I danced with fear and anger for my mother’s and my safety. In Both/and Things—The Power in Reflection, I am evolving in my dance with love, forgiveness, and connection. I share what I am learning about fear and courage, evil, vital decay, recycling pain, curiosity, diversity’s many gifts, the evolution of love, unconditional love, and forgiveness. The following highlighted words capture the essence of Both/and Things.

Empowerment - Fear brought me closer to the truth to show me how my compliance with patriarchy allowed destructive behaviors in the other and myself. I learned I was the one who needed to change. And I’m still a work in progress.

Acceptance - Somehow the creative force of the Great Mystery exists in the interplay of darkness and light where so much becomes clear. I am learning that embracing the darkness is the first step to creating goodness and strength in us all.

Diversity - When we reflectively interact with nature and each other, we become good medicine for the earth and one another.

Belonging - I am learning a new language of belonging is needed to treat all of creation and each and everyone of us as holy.

Love - Each day brings ample opportunity to work toward life’s ultimate goal—love of self and all others unconditionally through the power of reflection.

Forgiveness -  It’s all about forgiveness. Sheer compassion and forgiveness of myself teaches me how to love and forgive the other unconditionally.

Wisdom– My reflections in Both/and Things begin with quotes from diverse souls who understand what life is about: 

Pema Chodron 

“Fear is a natural reaction to moving closer to the truth.” 

“Nothing awakens the heart like extreme sadness.” 

            

e. e. cummings 

“It takes courage to grow up and become who you really 

are."  

Richard Rohr 

“Darkness, mistakes, and trials are the supreme teachers. Success really teaches you nothing; it just feels good."

Jellaludin Rumi 

 “Grief can be the garden of compassion. If you keep your heart open through everything, your pain can become your greatest ally in your life’s search for love and wisdom.”

            Albert Einstein  

        “Never lose a holy curiosity.”

              

Stephen Covey 

 “Strength lies in differences, not in similarities.”

Teilhard de Chardin 

“Yet it is the law of all progress that is made by passing through some stages of instability and that may take a very long time.”

“The most telling and profound way of describing the evolution of the universe would undoubtedly be to trace the evolution of love.”

“Someday, after mastering the winds, the waves, the tides and gravity, we shall harness for God the energies of love, and then, for a second time in the history of the world [man] we will have discovered fire."

What if we all came to know the power in reflection?  

    

    

Goodness Within

The Mystery within...

During times of extreme stress or difficulty I have occasionally experienced a Caring Presence within--separate from myself—but yet a part of me.  Recently I have experienced something similar that I would call a brief invitation to a good cry.  It was fleeting but a comfort to know a good cry is within if I need it.

In a more distant past I am now recalling when the Goodness Within brought life giving acceptance and forgiveness of another when I felt overwhelmed with rejection.  I was having a hard time just functioning so I sat down and did some deep diaphragmatic breathing while saying a prayer I adapted from a former yoga class.

Lord, keep me protected.

Nourish and guide me in my life.

May I help create vitality among one another.

May there be no enmity among us.

When I got to the line, "May there be no enmity among us," my overwhelming feeling of rejection was replaced with a blessed sense of acceptance and forgiveness of the other.  It was a life changing moment that became a catalyst for changes I needed to make in how I lived my life.  Those changes allowed me to tell the tale of other life changing encounters with the Goodness Within in "God Never Hurries." 

From "God Never Hurries:"

"Be not afraid."

"Justice will be kind it will be done over a period of time."

"I hold your hand and all of you, know that we are one."

"Your father will forgive you."

What if we all trusted the Goodness Within to guide us through life changing encounters? 

No Control

The Mystery within...

Serious illness has recently revisited those I care most about and reminded me that I really have no control over what happens to another.  Accepting that fact has taken some of the edge off my angst.  I can pray for the return of health, make chicken soup, be available to help, and offer suggestions.  But I really have no control in the outcome.  Acceptance of that fact feels like grace.

I was grateful for my rain gear and rubber boots as my yellow lab Oliver and I took a break to walk to the woods in a gentle rain.  There, bright green moss covering some rocks is the first color to return to end winter's subdued landscape.  Upon closer inspection, tiny green shoots of new life are beginning to poke through the brown wet carpet of last year's leaves.   And I felt graced again when I realized that this simple pleasure is all I really need in my life to feel complete.

What if relinquishing all control is the way to peace?

Decision Time

The Mystery within...

My refrigerator suddenly sounded terminally ill. The frozen yogurt was turning to soup.  I was beginning to have a sinking feeling in the pit of my stomach until I realized I could decide how this new wrinkle was going to affect me.  I reviewed my knowledge and resources. 

I called my neighbor to get the name of a local merchant she recently dealt with who gave her a loaner refrigerator until she could get delivery on a new unit.  She then offered me some of her freezer space temporarily.  I called the dealer and also its service department and heard what I knew I would hear.  Ten years is the average life expectancy for refrigerators today.  I decided I didn’t want to put repair money into an eleven year old one. 

As I drove to the store I remembered how I shuffled some money around after I purchased my new car and held out an extra thousand dollars for emergencies, grateful now for that foresight, as well as my car that got me to the showroom.  There was only one salesman who was on his cell phone--for a very long time.  I hoped it was a really important call.  An office staff person showed me a few models but could not answer all my questions.  When the salesman finally came over he apologized for his call and said he may have to take a call back from his doctor.  He had an anguished look on his face and told me he is having sever back pain.  (I was pleased I decided not to jump to conclusions regarding his cell phone use and that I currently did not have sever back pain.)  My purchase options were limited to color only on one model that would fit in my existing space without moving a cupboard and kitchen counter.  That made my decision easy.  We closed the deal.  I told him I was sorry for his back trouble and he filled out a $50.00 dollar rebate form for me and thanked me for shopping locally. 

I most likely would have saved money if I shopped around but I also gained from my decision to shop locally.  I did not have to drive to a major shopping area, find parking and endure holiday crowds.  I did not get a loaner refrigerator but made due with my helpful neighbor’s freezer space, my forty-year old refrigerator in the basement, and a cool garage.  Instead of a “woe is me” attitude over my refrigerator’s demise I became grateful for the trove of food I have, and that I will be able to pay for a new refrigerator.  I am thankful for all my other appliances that are currently working, and for the large serving spoon I was really missing that turned up under my old refrigerator.  And this change also got me to clean under my stove and mop the kitchen floor—a long time needed accomplishment.  The delivery order was for Monday between 9:00 a.m. and noon, with a note to please be patient if they arrive later, since they may run into problems with earlier deliveries—a nice touch I thought to restrain my ego.  The truck pulled into my driveway at 3:00 p.m. with my acceptance in tack. 

I know all of life’s challenges come with hidden gifts.  Some take longer to realize.  My refrigerator’s demise taught me I can consciously decide to look for them.

What if I, and the rest of us, could approach all of life’s challenges looking for their hidden gifts?           

Key Found!

The Mystery within...

I was amazed at how thrilled I was to find one of my two car key’s that had gone missing about six weeks ago.  When I spotted it at the bottom of my glove/ mitten/hat drawer, my heart leapt for joy with a simultaneous smile and an audible “Thank you!” on my lips.  The intense joy of finding that key surprised me.  I had abandoned actively looking for it but I still harbored some hope it might show up.  And there it was.  And I wanted nothing else that day to detract from my happy find.  And that thought stayed with me as my evening unfolded.

Later I could have gotten perturbed with a friend, who was picking me up for dinner that night, and was an hour late without any definitive explanation.  But I told myself, I’m happy because I found my key and I’m not going to let this detract from the joy I was still feeling. When he picked me up I found out the delay was due to his brother, who was in the hospital for nine days needing a transfer to a psych ward, which the social worker had finally just secured in another hospital, and the move needed to be done that night.  So after we ate dinner, and made a quick stop at my friend’s daughter-in-law’s Christmas craft show, we went to pick up his brother who was supposed to be ready to go at 9:00 p.m., but wasn’t.  During the hour plus wait for him I realized I was on the hospital floor, and very wing, where I once served as a Clinical Pastoral Experience student.  In my mind's eye I saw myself walking those halls back then and realized how much I had discovered within myself and grown in the almost twenty intervening years. I also was able to witness again the awesome care and compassion of some nurses, grateful for that awareness.   Finding my key joy was still intact.

After the three of us got in the van and headed for the other distant hospital, it became apparent the GPS system was taking us in the opposite direction from where we needed to go.  But I just sat in the back seat enjoying the two brothers who interacted like Tom Cruise and Dustin Hoffman in “Rain Man,” one of my favorite movies.  The GPS was reprogrammed.  We were turned around, and finally arrived at the next hospital’s darkened locked entrance with an outside phone that directed us to the adjacent Emergency door.  I was asked to wait in the car.  The motor was running and the hazard lights were on.  I turned off the motor but could not figure out how to turn off the blinking red lights.  So I sat there for another hour plus aware of a few lit rooms on floors above, where others were caring for the sick, remembering some of my family’s and my need in crisis and healing.  I took stock of how relatively well I still am physically and felt humbling gratitude.  Finding my key joy was still intact.

When my friend returned I told him I could not figure out how to turn off the hazard lights.  He showed me.  He turned the key and there was no response from the engine.  He told me I could have left the engine running.  I just let that comment pass.  I told him there seemed to be security personnel patrolling the area and maybe we could get them to charge the battery.  A short while later we were on our way.  When he dropped me off at my house it was after midnight.  I heated up my leftover spinach stuffed portabella mushroom from the restaurant and finally got in bed in the small hours of the morning.  Finding my key joy was still intact. 

The intense Joy I knew must live deep inside me.  Accepting what is, humbling gratitude, and letting some things pass helps me hold onto it.  What if we all found our lost Key? 

Slow Healing

The Mystery within...

Just like slow food cooking is better for you than fast food, I am coming to appreciate the same is true with the slow healing of my knee that I sprained a week ago.  Each day brings a little more mobility, and lessening of pain.  My slower pace allows for more keen observation and reflection.  Even though I really miss being more active, especially outdoors, I have noticed I am less anxious about what isn’t getting done.  I’ve also gotten some help with yard work from my daughter for which I am grateful.  Some ingredients for hanging on to my calm appear to be acceptance for what is, a lowering of expectations for what needs to get done, and becoming more comfortable with needing help. 

  

The On-Being guest Krista Tippett interviewed this past week was timely for me.  He was Dr. Bessel van der Kolk – Restoring the Body:  Yoga, EMDR, and Treating Trauma.  He is also author of “The Body Keeps the Score.”  He spoke of the importance of the social context in how trauma occurs as being very important because the body holds the memory of those sensate experiences.  My initial knee injury and subsequent surgery was the result of a cross-country skiing accident during a January thaw when I went out to work off some significant frustration.  My left ski caught a patch of mud and I did a 180-degree turn on that knee well over twenty-five years ago.  Could my knee need a talking to about its time to forget?  Or is this just a continuing learning benefit from an initial trauma?  This needs further thought and investigation.

My memoir, “God Never Hurries,” is like a cookbook on slow healing from abuse and the significant challenges in caring for parents.  My troubles have been my greatest teachers because they caused me to search for my truth, which I then found in everyday experiences and the natural world.  I learned it’s a lot easier to stay miserable than to make changes in my life.  I came to see everything as a both/and thing, got a grip on my complicity in my troubles, was infused with courage, and came to know true freedom from forgiveness.  And I am now becoming aware of a growing compassion for the other that knows no bounds.  There may be no end to trauma benefits.  Just going deeper. 

What if we saw our traumas as potentially rich training opportunities?  

A Mind of my Own

The mystery within . . .

Growing up I was not permitted a mind of my own.  And if I did express an idea or preference for anything it would invariably be met with ridicule.  No wonder I am reticent to speak an opinion or look forward to engaging conversation.  So when I was presented with an invitation from a friend, an invitation I knew I would rather not accept, I was anxious about my response and initially said nothing.  A week or two went by without a word or even an acknowledgement from me.  My inability to speak my mind gnawed at me.  I thought maybe I could respectfully write my decline in a note since the written word is a safer way for me to communicate.  Ironically, my early conditioning made me a clear and concise writer, a gift for which I am grateful.  But now writing a note felt cowardly and awkward.  I decided a phone call would be more personal and felt less threatening.  When I got the answering machine I was relieved.  I could state my reason for calling and wait for the call back.  It came, and I respectfully spoke my mind.  My friend became ever more dear to me when my words were met with acceptance. That acceptance lit a light inside me and I basked in its glow knowing I do have a mind of my own and can speak it.

My anxiety over responding made me very aware of how much my early conditioning still affects me, but I want to continue my growth in my spoken words that reveal the light within me. 

I know I am not alone in my previous conditioning.  What if we could all know the light within when speaking our own mind, or be the accepting listener?                          

Suicide Survivors

God is...

I am a suicide survivor as are my son Michael, daughter Mary and my brother Joseph.  Terminal mental illness took my husband Frank in 1975, my son Joe in 1988, and my sister-in-law Kathryn in the early 1990’s, and now my cousin Sally’s son Jake this past week.  There is little else in life that can compare to the dark jarring upon hearing news of this irretrievable loss.  When our loved ones’ pain and anguish ends, ours escalates with astounding intensity.  Our lives are forever changed and we are faced with accepting what is.

My experience of accepting this dark pain has led me to know a mysterious God who can transform us through darkness.  I remember the exact moment when I began my long healing process after the death of my husband and son.  After my husband’s death it felt like someone had cut me in half lengthwise with a meat cleaver and there was this long jagged wound leaving me half of what I was.  Sometime after his death, I was on the phone with a relative who said, “You know the pain will get better.”  I responded, “I don’t care if it ever does.”  With that acceptance I felt a subtle shift within that slowly began healing my wound.  After my son’s death the physical sensation was of a black hole in my chest where my heart had been.  I remember walking down into the basement one night, which seemed to even intensify the feeling of emptiness in my chest, and thinking I embrace this darkness as a sign of my love for Joe.  And again there was that subtle shift that slowly began returning my heart. 

This mysterious God of ours can use the pain of terminal mental illness, or any pain, to make us a more aware, compassionate people.  In my experience, the transformation begins by accepting and honoring our pain and then letting God grow us into a more caring people.  I can’t think of a better tribute to the kind and gentle soul we knew as Jake.

Remembering Community

God is...

Having spent much of this past week with just my dog and daughter’s cat for company my thoughts have turned to community and the three days I spent earlier this month on retreat with other women seekers where we experienced compassion for one another and became a healing community.  In the preface to Matthew Fox’s book, “A Spirituality Named Compassion,” he writes: Compassion is not an abstraction, but an entry into our own and others’ pain.  And joy as well. … Compassion is not merely a human energy; it is integral to the universe.  ...Compassion is a mystery. …our very essence, the very best of ourselves is to practice compassion.  … Compassion is important to wounded and oppressed peoples, and to the survival of our planet.    

When I struggled with my aging parent’s care needs, the compassion of others who cared sustained me.  My pain touched others as well.  In my memoir, “God Never Hurries,” I recount words I spoke at a church reform convention’s small breakout group titled “Patriarchy to Partnership.”  I wrote:  I felt empathy for a man in that session who was struggling to understand complicity.  In response to his frustrated disbelief that we all hold some responsibility for abusive patriarchy, I said, ‘My father is a tyrant.  I suffered most of my life under his tyranny until God showed me my complicity and I started standing up to him.  I am now the only one in the family who stands up to him.  My father is still a tyrant, but I am no longer his subject.’  After I spoke those words I felt a new level of acceptance and deeper change taking hold in me.  Applause from the group surely helped along with some hugs at session’s end, but most affirming were words from one woman who said, “You really helped me.”

During that most difficult time in my life I never met some of the people in my helping community but only spoke with them on long distance phone calls.  The following is from my memoir:  Outside of alerting social services agencies that my parents now had no care, and my mother could be in serious jeopardy, there was precious little I could do except trust God had a plan and accept whatever happens, happens.  Pouring my heart out to these professionals over the past two years had not been in vain.  Now the greatest help they gave me were their respectful long distance voices.

What if the next time we are “Wherever two or more are gathered together…” we look for the mystery within us that is named Compassion, and respond to one another with respectful voices.

Very Brave

God is...

Two of my grandchildren and their mother, who served as the Lutheran Outdoor Ministries Center (LOMC) summer camp nurse, came home last week, but not my thirteen-year-old granddaughter who stayed an extra week to tour eleven churches performing the songs and choreography she learned the previous week.  I told my granddaughter she was very brave to stay an extra week at camp by herself as we rode back home after watching and listening to her final performance. 

“You are very brave” was a favorite affirmation uttered by a friend of mine who said them with soft solemnity and a smile.  I got to know her on a trip to the Sylvania Wilderness into which she and her husband led family groups.  She spoke those words more than once and later wrote them in a letter to me after I published my memoir God Never Hurries.  I loved hearing and reading that support from her.

Listening to and watching my granddaughter’s 2013 Swing Choir performance took me back to when I traveled with my former church choir to sing in churches across Germany.  In my memoir I wrote, It was as if you could hear the voice of God within us singing.  I believe the deep bonds formed by my granddaughter’s choir over the past two weeks was because their voices lifted for peace not war, love not hate, and acceptance not rejection of the other.  It was the voice of God and is why it was so hard for these young people to part and go their separate ways after that final performance.

Ironically my granddaughter was quite sure she did not want to go to this summer camp and now can’t wait to return next year.  It is so like God, to present us with learning opportunities we would rather pass up but ultimately prove to be for the best.  What if the next time you see someone doing something courageous you tell him or her, “You are very brave,” with a smile.