A Sign (#SmallWonder Link-up)

(I am behind this week, friends.  So here is a poem I shared in my newsletter last week.  Check back last in the week for a new post and while you're here, sign up for my newsletter to receive more exclusive content during Advent and beyond.) 

. . . the desert shall rejoice and blossom as the rose . . . Isaiah 35:1

(also based on Matthew 11:2-6)

My office is not a desert -

though electric heat does dry the air –

and my great-grandmother’s Christmas cactus

is not a rose.  But when I pause in writing

and turn to see – lo! – pink buds prepared

to blossom, I take it as a sign.  I take, also,

the first drifting flakes of snow and the praying

mantis’ egg sack tucked inside our fresh cut fir. 

John the Baptist, smoldering in prison, sought

Jesus for a sign.  “Are you the one,” he asked.

“Or am I to await another?” Jesus gave no sign,

save for what was.  “Look, and see, and believe,”

he said, pointing to the prophet’s words.

John looked and saw and doubt

was satisfied.  So it is with those who wait

in darkness, who long to see and believe.

My office is not a desert and my great-grandmother’s

Christmas cactus is not a rose, but I will take it

as a sign.  

*   *   *

Welcome to the #SmallWonder link-up.  

What if we chose to deliberately look for small moments of wonder, the small sparks of presence, of delight or sorrow, of true humanity in which we meet God?  

That's my proposal - that we gather here each week to share one moment of Wonder from each of our days.  You're invited to link-up a brief post about a small moment of wonder.  Don't worry if your post is too long, too short, or not just right - you're welcome to come as you are.  

While you're here, please do take a look around and encourage at least one other blogger with a comment.  Thanks for being part of our community!  

The Core: Physical Therapy & Prayer (#SmallWonder Link-Up)

It’s my second day of Physical Therapy for lower back pain.  I lay flat on my back on a green, cushioned table.  My knees are bent and I lift my pelvis in and out of bridge pose ten, twenty times.  “How does that feel?” the therapist asks.

“I feel it pull a little in my lower back,” I say.

“Are you using your core?” he asks.

I pause and listen to my body.  I hear no answer.  “What do you mean?” I ask.

“You want to be using your transverse abdominal muscles to lift,” he says, “not pushing up with your legs and back.  That’s why your back’s tweaking.  It’s not about how high you can go, it’s about using those muscles.”

I turn back to my body and try tightening my lower stomach, the soft section where my children grew.  “Hello,” my transverse abdominal muscles whisper as if waking from a long nap.

The therapist goes on to tell me that the lower abdominal muscles, commonly referred to as the "core," act as a natural girdle keeping the pelvis and spine in alignment.  I wonder, as I redo my bridges, how I can go through years of my life completely disengaged from my core?

//

A week later, I lay belly-down on the long, green cushioned table, my face pressed into an oval opening.  My shirt is lifted, my back exposed, and a therapist works slow circles in the muscles of my lower back.  Later, cool gel holds pads in strategic position and wires send electricity buzzing into tightened muscles coaxing them into surrender.  A layer of warm towels is laid on top, a timer set, and the therapist busies herself in another part of the room.

With my face in the hole, I close my eyes, I open them.  My contacts drift across my eyes and the world around me is slightly out of focus.  Conversations float through the air and I tune them in and out like radio stations. 

The electrical stimulation on my lumbar spine feels like hundreds of tiny ants dancing, their feet on fire and it’s not an altogether unpleasant sensation.  I open my eyes, I close them.  I rest and think of the woman waiting on a long-desired pregnancy.  I pray.  I think of the man who is dying and his wife.  I pray.  I wonder who I am here in this place.  At Physical Therapy, I am muscle and bone, slouching posture, weakened core.  But, beyond that, am I young?  Am I old?  Am I mother, daughter, wife?  I listen to hear what my life will say.

//

After the timer goes off, the pads are removed and I flip from stomach to back.  Knees bent, I practice “fall outs” and “ninety degree presses” counting slowly from one to thirty on each side.  My mind drifts, and thoughts go in and out of focus but I return again and again to tightening the core, attending in each moment to that inner space.   

This, I know, is what prayer is, a centering practice, a movement in which, putting aside all else, we tend to the core.

*   *   *

Welcome to the #SmallWonder link-up.  

What if we chose to deliberately look for small moments of wonder, the small sparks of presence, of delight or sorrow, of true humanity in which we meet God?  

That's my proposal - that we gather here each week to share one moment of Wonder from each of our days.  You're invited to link-up a brief post about a small moment of wonder.  Don't worry if your post is too long, too short, or not just right - you're welcome to come as you are.  

While you're here, please do take a look around and encourage at least one other blogger with a comment.  Thanks for being part of our community!  

Pray as You Can (#SmallWonder Link-up)

Julian of Norwich, a 14th century anchoress best known for her deep belief in the love of God, is often depicted with her only companion, a cat.  Can you imagine how happy this makes me? 

"Pray as you can, not as you can't." - Dom John Chapman

In the early morning darkness, I rise from bed and descend the stairs.  The waiting cat picks up my trail and follows me into the kitchen.  Awake for some time already, he's eager to get outside. Every morning he saunters out into the frosty cold to prowl the wilted flowerbeds, the decaying garden and I catch glimpses of his progress from the window as he seeks out scent paths left the night before.  

In the kitchen, I pour coffee and cream into a clean-enough mug and the cat leaps onto a stool, hoping I’ll open the un-screened kitchen window that frequently serves as his own private door.  When I fail to comply with his implicit demands, he follows me to the wood stove room, hurrying urgently to the front door while I kneel to stoke the fire.  He expects me to open the door to gather more wood from the porch and is visibly disappointed when I settle on the couch.  His green eyes flash in my direction, impatient, then he settles on the carpet to wait for the next opportunity. 

I woke early, intending to sit in the darkness, to absorb the silence, to gently stoke the flame of desire that draws me to God.  This is why I woke, but there on the love seat I sit with my phone in hand.  I open Facebook, I scroll. 

My mind spins and whirls with thoughts, emotions.  My mind is like the cat, wide awake and eager, wanting to get out, to explore, to hunt and find satisfaction. 

This is not what I wanted.  But it's what I’m doing.

I lift my eyes from the phone and look over at the cat.  He’s waiting, as cats do, half-asleep.  

I rise again, this time from the love seat, and gather the cat in my arms.  I sit with him cradled across my lap like a baby.  He accepts my attention complacently, then with a steadily growing purr.  I stroke his back, his head; I scratch along his jawbone.  

With the cat in my arms, I feel love rise and gratitude; prayer begins.  

I realize then, gazing at his relaxed frame, that he is showing me how I'm meant to be with God - at rest, comforted, loved.  In that moment, my cat is an icon, leading me to the holy, to my own desire.  Content in my embrace, he stretches his paws out long and they come to rest on my chest where my heart resides.   

What images or actions in your daily life lead you to prayer?

*   *   *

Welcome to the #SmallWonder link-up.  

What if we chose to deliberately look for small moments of wonder, the small sparks of presence, of delight or sorrow, of true humanity in which we meet God?  

That's my proposal - that we gather here each week to share one moment of Wonder from each of our days.  You're invited to link-up a brief post about a small moment of wonder.  Don't worry if your post is too long, too short, or not just right - you're welcome to come as you are.  

While you're here, please do take a look around and encourage at least one other blogger with a comment.  Thanks for being part of our community!  

The Hardest Part (Advent Week 1)

The Sleeping Disciples by Henry Ossawa Tanner

I slept but my heart was awake.  Listen!  My beloved is knocking.

Song of Solomon 5:2

Besides this, you know what time it is, how it is now the moment for you to wake from sleep.  For salvation is nearer to us now when we became believers; the night is far gone, the day is near. 

Romans 13:11-12a

In the night, they come to our room,

nose dripping blood or underwear damp.  

“Can you help me with this?” they ask,  

and we are stirred from the heavy 

darkness of slumber.  

I never want to wake in the night,

never want to throw back the warm covers,

to search for glasses blindly.

I dread the wet sheets

and sitting in the cold dark of the bathroom

pinching his nose until the red river stops. 

But when he shivers, stripping the wet

in exchange for dry, and when he waits

oddly stoic for the clotting to begin,

I feel compassion rise. 

By the time I tuck them

back in, I can say I love you and

mean it as I rub their short-cropped hair.

The hardest part is waking.

Advent Week 1: Awake! (#SmallWonder Link-up)

I slept but my heart was awake.  Listen!  My beloved is knocking.

Song of Solomon 5:2

Besides this, you know what time it is, how it is now the moment for you to wake from sleep.  For salvation is nearer to us now when we became believers; the night is far gone, the day is near. 

Romans 13:11-12a

During Advent this year I plan to focus my weekly posts on the lectionary readings (Bible passages) assigned by the church calendar.  Vanderbilt Divinity Library offers a convenient lectionary overview online, just hover over the reading and the text appears on your screen, or click on the reading to see all of the readings for the week.  I find that following the lectionary from time to time exposes me to a wider variety of passages than I might otherwise choose to read.

Like many of my friends - online and in person - I found myself turning to the comforts of the Christmas season early this year.  JJ Heller's new album, "Unto Us" has been on repeat as I make dinner and the lights we hung outside last year (and didn't take down . . .) were ready to go and plugged in the day after Thanksgiving.  Many are struggling in the wake of a tumultuos election, others are worn and weary from carrying burdens of every shape and size and we long for the comforts of Christmas as the days grow short and cold.

But this week's passages reminded me that Advent brings more than comfort - it first brings disruption.  The prophets of advent speak of an overthrow of what is in favor for God's kingdom which is to come.  Advent seeks to unsettle us, to wake us up that we might be ready for the unexpected ways of the One who comes to turn the world as we know it - broken, beaten and rife with violence - into a place where the lion lays down with the lamb and swords are beaten into plowshares.  

This week's readings remind me that Advent brings revolution and bids us stay awake.  The temptation is fierce this year to use the distractions and delights of the holiday season to placate our longing and need for light in the midst of darkness.  Like the apostles waiting in the garden with Jesus, we are too easily lulled to sleep in the long, dark night of waiting.  

Let us stay awake this year, let us wait in darkness and with wonder.  Let us read old verses with new eyes, let us be willing to suffer the disruption that precedes redemption, the death that precedes resurrection's glory.       

What practices will help you Stay Awake in this season of waiting?

*   *   *

Welcome to the #SmallWonder link-up.  

What if we chose to deliberately look for small moments of wonder, the small sparks of presence, of delight or sorrow, of true humanity in which we meet God?  

That's my proposal - that we gather here each week to share one moment of Wonder from each of our days.  You're invited to link-up a brief post about a small moment of wonder.  Don't worry if your post is too long, too short, or not just right - you're welcome to come as you are.  

While you're here, please do take a look around and encourage at least one other blogger with a comment.  Thanks for being part of our community!  

Gifts for Book Lovers on Your List

My oldest boy heads off to school each day with his backpack weighted down with books - it must weigh over fifty pounds.   These aren't school books, they're leisure books and I don't know why he needs SO MANY of them onhand all at once but it seems to mean something to him to have them, so I try not to make a fuss about it, aside from urging him to take a few out every time he crams another two or three in.  For some of us, my son included, the worst thing that can happen is to be left without anything to read. 

In that case, a book makes a perfect gift.  Here's some of my family's favorites from the past year.   

For the Early Readers:

I'm so happy about the new "Tales From Maple Ridge" series. These short chapter books with illustrations on nearly every page are perfect for the twins (age 5) at bedtime and I've caught the older kids listening in too.  Eight-year-old Logan Pryce lives on a farm with his parents, two sisters and a brother.  Set in 1892, Logan and two of his siblings attend a one-room school house and deal with everyday challenges.  Each book in the series retells a captivating adventure in which the children prove their compassion, creativity and ingenuity.  Written by Grace Gilmore, illustrated by Petra Brown.

For Middle Ages (3-6th grade): 

My daughter, Sophia (age 10) and I (age 10++) both fell in love with "Sophie Quire and the Last Storyguard."  This is the second in the Peter Nimble Adventures and tells the captivating story of a young girl charges with saving all sorts of "nonsense" from those who want to destroy everything "irrational."  Sophie is a book mender and her love and care captured my heart.  The author, Jonathan Auxier, writes about the mysterious books Sophie is sent to save in such compelling language that the books themselves become like characters.  

We read this, the second book first, and while my daughter went on to prefer the first book, "Peter Nimble and His Fantastic Eyes," Sophie Quire still held my heart.  Both offer a great blend of fantasy and adventure. 

Another family favorite?  Comic books.  The other night John and I went to bed at 8:30 and laid there reading Foxtrot by lamplight.  I turned to him and said, "What are we, eight years old?"  John and I started buying comic book anthologies when I was in seminary and reading heavily, but still needed a way to wind down at the end of the day.  Foxtrot, Dilbert and Calvin and Hobbes were just the thing to do the trick.  Years later our kids also love the books and John and I keep coming back to them too.  I enjoy watching the kids read Foxtrot because of the family dynamics it hits on.  My daughter also really likes "Baby Blues" by Rick Kirkman, which is also oriented around the humor of family life.  I foresee some comic books under our Christmas tree this year . . . 

For the Upper-Middle Grades (6-9th):

I recently discovered Laurie Halse Anderson's compelling Young Adult novels.  I started with "Fever 1793" which tells the story of a young girl living in Philadelphia at the time of the Yellow Fever epidemic. Anderson tells a compelling story combined with fascinating history.  Her trilogy that begins with "Chains" is just as compelling and tells the history of the Revolutionary war from the perspective of a slave girl and, in "Forge," a slave boy.  All three books weave drama and history and raise the compelling question of whether it's possible to fight for freedom for one group while suppressing the rights of another.  

For the Upper Grades (9-12):

The Steele Secrets series offers a lovely blend of historical fiction and modern conflict.  The protagonist, Mary Steele, is a normal teen who discovers she can see ghosts - not scary ghosts - but people in need of help.  Kind-hearted and idealistic, Mary is more than willing to help although she often misjudges how much her involvement will cost her and the ones she loves most.  I love these books for the gentleness with which they weave together historical and contemporary issues around racism.  

For Fun:

Sometimes you just need something light and fun.  Based on the true story of one of America's first female deputy sheriffs, this novel follows the adventures of Constance Kopp and her two sisters.  Set in 1914, the book follows Constance's quest to defend her family and confront her past, capturing criminals in the process.  I have yet to read this one, but started instead with the second book in the series, "Lady Cop Makes Trouble."  

And Even More Fun:

My first book, "Chicken Scratch" is on sale through Monday.  Hop over to Amazon and check out the reviews, then order one to keep and one to give away.  One reviewer wrote, "Chicken Scratch really touched me.  . . . one easy-to-read, touching and fun book."

So that's my list, what books are on your list this year?

Advent Has An Edge (#SmallWonder link-up)

In early November a dear friend mentioned her desire to offer a pre-advent Advent retreat, she even had a title picked out, "The Edge of Advent."  She wanted to offer a space for people to prepare for the season, to stand on its edge and determine ahead of time what practices, what questions, might steer their journey toward the arrival of the Holy One.  I loved the idea and when my friend's husband fell sick, I chose to offer the retreat myself, because I knew I dearly needed it. 

Yesterday, a small handful of people gathered at Still Waters Retreat House in Carlisle, PA to listen and reflect.  The following is a compilation of a few thoughts I shared about Advent's edge.  

Advent Has an Edge.  

An Edge can be sharp,

like a knife, or dull.

Cutting Edge is new and exciting,

Edgy is raw and unsettled, like the wilderness

where John the Baptist appeared,

and all the people went out

to meet him there.

An Edge is a place of transition,

liminality, and potential.  God

seems to prefer the Edge and

those who dwell in it; appearing

most often among and to those

who find their way there

by faith or fate.       

Advent boasts a warning sign: 

Traveler Beware, the journey 

from here will leave you 

On Edge. You will know 

you're on the right path

when you find yourself dislocated,

caught between comforts like 

Mary and Joseph of long ago.

Advent reveals the Sharp Edges

of things - the sorrow on joy's fringes,

the place where light and darkness meet,

and the way every possession positions us

for loss.  Advent’s prophets declare

upheaval, a great rending of the

tapestry of this world.  Those in power

tremble, but the humble rejoice.     

Advent has an Edge. 

It is a beginning,

it is an end.  

I'd love to hear what you're reading or practicing during Advent this year.  In particular, I'm looking for new Advent materials for us to use as a family.  Let me know in the comments below!

*   *   *

Welcome to the #SmallWonder link-up.  

What if we chose to deliberately look for small moments of wonder, the small sparks of presence, of delight or sorrow, of true humanity in which we meet God?  

That's my proposal - that we gather here each week to share one moment of Wonder from each of our days.  You're invited to link-up a brief post about a small moment of wonder.  Don't worry if your post is too long, too short, or not just right - you're welcome to come as you are.  

While you're here, please do take a look around and encourage at least one other blogger with a comment.  Thanks for being part of our community!