July 20, 2008
One of my Mom’s dreams came true today: she got a ride on a Harley. She’s ready to ditch the Volvo and buy a bike (or at least a much cooler car!) So, Mom, go confidently in the direction of your dreams! You’re my inspiration.
July 14, 2008
It’s been a while since I’ve blogged about a new detail on our house, so, just for old times sake, here’s a picture of our new railings. The railings were created by our friends and neighbors Mark & Tamara Fountain who are very gifted metal artists. It’s an honor to add pieces of their work to our ever evolving home and Greeningwood.
July 13, 2008
Originally uploaded by greeningwood
I’ve had some busy, busy weeks leading up to my birthday. My work days continue to be full in a variety of ways as the hospital prepares for the move to RiverBend and the transition to being a two-campus hospital. I’ve done two weddings–the first on June 29th and the second on July 12th. In between, I traveled east for my 20th high school reunion and a visit to the camp where I spent many summers growing up.
I had a wonderful, simple birthday today. The day was filled with church, lunch, movie, cake & ice cream and tree planting. When we were sitting in the theater waiting for the movie (WALL*E) to start, I said to Ann that I couldn’t remember the last time I’d felt so relaxed. What a gift!
June 21, 2008
I think most of the folks who read my blog–if I do, in fact, have readers–know that I work as a chaplain in a 500+ bed, Level II trauma center in a medium sized urban area. We’re a regional referral center for smaller communities to the north and south of us and to the west of us along the Oregon coast. Early in the week one of the nurses I work with regularly turned to me and asked as I was leaving a patient’s room, “How do you not take this home with you every day?” Her question really traveled with me throughout the week.
The truth is that there are times where what I do, see, experience, feel does travel home with me. It’s been really important to learn what I need to do to participate in my ongoing healing. Some of these things aren’t very exotic at all–I eat, sleep, brush my teeth, connect with friends and family, read, pray, write, sing, walk the dog, soak up the silence of the place we call home, go to church, debrief with trusted colleagues, clean, vacuum, and mow. There are a few more formal pieces I need to put into this self-care plan, but what I have learned is that I need to attend to my basic, basic needs very intentionally. All of that said, on a deep level I can honestly say that still I don’t know how it is that I can do what I do. The deepest level of asking “how” takes me into the mystery of God and the mystery of God’s call in my life.
For whatever reason, I don’t fear the setting I in which I work and minister. When I did my first unit of Clinical Pastoral Education, I thought this would be about not fearing blood, tubes, medical gadgets and physical pain. While that’s certainly part of it, the question I get most from the medically trained folks is about how I tolerate the spiritual and emotional pain of others which is almost always grief in some form. During this past week, I spent many hours over the course of several days with a family that is grieving, healing, and giving thanks all at the same time. Their spiritual process and willingness to wade through all of these emotions in the moment is inspiring and, while I can’t always say how I do it, I definitely know why I love being a chaplain in health care. I’m inspired by the human ability find hope in the midst of tragedy and to keep faith in the midst of crisis. This faith may be years old or minutes old, but it is no less sustaining and transforming. I often say, “people meet God differently in the hospital.” I’ve always meant the patients when I’ve said that, but I’m learning that I too have met God differently in the hospital and for that I’m deeply thankful.
June 4, 2008
The country dog chased her first skunk on Saturday night. We were not prepared for this inevitable event of country living. We now have a stockpile of tomato juice and apple cider vinegar. Better late than never I suppose but much of what we own now smells vaguely of skunk! This was not the natural, country living experience we had in mind, but, like the beavers, it’s all part of our new reality. I’ll let you know when it stops stinking around here, but I don’t think it will be any time soon.
It was remarkably still outside last night when I walked the stinky country dog. No car sounds. No planes. No sound from other houses. I felt for a moment as if I stepped right into the stillness that I’ve been longing for. I wanted to pull that stillness right into the core of my being and dwell in it for the rest of time. As soon as I tried to possess this silence, make it mine and keep it forever a jet flew over the top of our house. It took the longest time for its sound to fade. I made the dog stand still with me as I begged the heavens to grant me just one more moment of that stillness. No luck. The stillness didn’t come back, but somehow I was left with a reminder of what it is I’m seeking.
May 18, 2008
Originally uploaded by greeningwood
It’s wild iris season here in our part of Oregon. These little flowers are truly amazing to me. They’ve been out for a couple of weeks now, but there was a wild iris explosion in our neighborhood over the weekend during the warm weather.
On other fronts, I’m reading Elizabeth Gilbert’s book Eat, Pray, Love along with millions of other people. I’m finding not only her story, but her writing itself inspirational. Her conversational writing style is compelling and honest. I feel like I’m taking her journey of transformation with her and, while I’m sure many readers long for her spiritual journey, I long to relate mine in a similarly readable way.
If I could write the way she writes, I’d be able to tell you how fun it was to walk the dog tonight along the road lined with wild iris. I’d tell you how I fell in love with Oregon all over again just seeing how they’d multiplied themselves over the past few days. I’d tell you how I’d thanked God for leading me on a path that brought me home to these flowers and their neighbors. I’d be able to describe in a tangible way how cool the air was and how it even smelled green outside tonight. Well, I’ll keep on watching and writing; in time I’ll find the story I’m called to tell.
May 11, 2008
I went to both of my churches today, mostly because it’s Mother’s Day and Mom goes to the Episcopal Church. In both places it was mentioned that the Day of Pentecost is “the birthday of the Church.” St. M’s even did it up big with red, orange, and yellow balloons on the end of every pew and a birthday cake during coffee hour. I’ve heard this my whole life without really questioning it: Pentecost is the birthday of the church. Today, though, I noticed that the readings don’t exactly say, “and from that moment on this rag-tag bunch of Jesus’ followers were known as the Church.” So where is the birthday image?
It seems to me that what both Acts and John’s gospel speak to is the ability of the Spirit to bring new birth continually into our lives. Not only the new birth that’s celebrated with balloons and flowers, but the new birth that’s like birth itself–messy, risky, and totally transformative in an everything-will-be-completely- different-after-this-moment kind of way. The one being reborn is transformed in the rebirth of the Spirit and the world is forever different too.
Pentecost and Mother’s Day now seem like a very appropriate convergence. All of our Mom’s risked their lives and gave up their bodies for a time to birth us into this life. Perhaps Pentecost is also the Mother’s Day of the Church as the Spirit births new life into God’s people over and over again through Mother Church.
May 7, 2008
Here’s a tidbit of trivial church history for both my UCC friends and my Anglican friends: on this day in 1577, Puritan meetings were forbidden by Elizabeth I of England.
April 30, 2008
This past weekend we went on retreat at Mt. Angel Abby, a Benedictine abby in Mt. Angel, Oregon. The retreat was for associates and friends (I’m in the later category, Ann the former) of the Community of the Holy Spirit, an Episcopal monastic community of women whose house is in New York City. Our retreat leader was Sr. Claire Joy who blogs at Flavor of the Month. (She blogs her cartoons at God’s Funny Bone.)
It was a beautiful weekend in a very beautiful setting. This is the second year I’ve been on this retreat and my second experience of a silent retreat. I’d been skeptical of making a silent retreat before I tried it, even proclaiming in a rather grand fit of defiance about a year ago, “I don’t meet God in silence.” Perhaps not, but it’s certainly a place in which God meets me. A year ago I discovered that this brief taste of silence was enough to teach me that I needed at least a month of silence to, as I wrote at the time, “rediscover my soul.”
Over the past year, I’ve found some simple ways to integrate more silence into my life. As a true introvert (one who restores her energy through solitude), I’ve discovered that silence is as basic to my needs as oxygen and water.
April 24, 2008
OK this is cool. I just found a link to a progressive Christian church in Second Life: Koinonia Congregational Church of Second Life. If I ever figure out how to get my avitar dressed and off of orientation island I’ll give this a visit. It does really beg the question what is authentic Christian community and do we have it/create it through blogs, Facebook, and virtual reality? How real is “reality” anyway?
|
OED Word of the Day
