Ideal Weekend Away

I'm not sure I can even write this post without crying. I want this weekend away SO BADLY...and I'm not too hard to please. It's just that timing is hard to work out...

I'm also betting that those of you who know me can guess what I'm about to write...

Go ahead. Guess.



My very most ideal weekend is camping near Lake Superior. No rain...or possibly only rain at night. Because who doesn't love the patter of rain on the tent at night? Sooooo, maybe one beautiful night when we can leave the rain fly off and look at the stars. And another night with the lullaby of rain.

We'd make pie iron biscuits for breakfast to go with our iced coffee in mason jars.

There would be no mosquitoes.

We'd take long walks in beautiful places. And maybe we'd bring our bikes along and go biking, too.

We'd sit on a pebble beach listening to the waves crash on a windy afternoon (that's the night the rain will come). We'd face the wind with our arms outstretched and let our souls fly free for a while.

We'd read stories and play games and make smores around the campfire at night.

There would be drawing and guitar playing and crocheting.

We'd watch for birds and identify trees and clouds.

We'd talk about life and God and people. And listen to good music in the car. ...and stop at a cute small town coffee shop on the way home, just to make the trip last a little longer.

Their Names Matter

From A Wind in the Door by Madeleine L'Engle:

“Progo,' Meg asked. 'You memorized the names of all the stars - how many are there?'

How many? Great heavens, earthling. I haven't the faintest idea.'

But you said your last assignment was to memorize the names of all of them.'

I did. All the stars in all the galaxies. And that's a great many.'

But how many?'

What difference does it make? I know their names. I don't know how many there are. It's their names that matter.”

A litany of names.

Micheal Brown in Ferguson, Missouri.

The four I will think of during the Stomp Out Suicide Walk on Saturday:
Les.
Peter.
Calen.

Robin Williams.

Those that we have lost to cancer...
My mom
Buzz

Those who are fighting cancer...
Sandy
Sandra's friend
Kathy's brother in law

And those lost to accidents...
Gabe
Uncle Sunny

Racism.
Suicide.
Cancer.
Accidents.

This is not an exhaustive list...just the names that have been close to me this week.

I read today that one thing we can do to fight racism in response to events like the shooting of Michael Brown is to stop telling the "Good Kid Narrative" about how his death is sad because he was such a good kid who was about to start college, who was well-loved and liked by his community. Those things are true. But, "The Good Kid narrative says that this kid didn’t deserve to die because his goodness was the exception to the rule. This is wrong. This kid didn’t deserve to die because he was a human being and black lives matter." (12 Things White People Can Do Now Because Ferguson)

...And I thought of the words of Progo. "What difference does it make? I know their names. I don't know how many there are. It's their names that matter."

On Saturday when I walk the SOS walk, I'm sure I'll be overwhelmed by the numbers. By the sheer volume of people who have experiences the tragedy of suicide and/or depression. We human beings are impressed by numbers.

But you know what? The numbers are not the part that matters. It's the names that each of those numbers represent. Whether there are four or one hundred or one thousand. It's all the same. "What difference does it make? ...It's their names that matter."

Savoring

"Savoring is the capacity to notice and appreciate the little joys, the small pleasures, and the enjoyable moments in our everyday lives.

Walk around your home and savor what you love. It could be a painting someone gave you, a lamp you found at a flea market, or the smell of something cooking in your oven. Then write about it..."

I'm hanging out in my kitchen today making pumpkin pie for a benefit bake sale. I love the smell of pumpkin pie, and this is one of the few gluten free desserts I've perfected. AND, I can do it sugar free, which means that both Mane and Mango are happy!

Pumpkin pies make me think of autumn, too, and autumn has always been my favorite season - full of the color of changing leaves, visiting the apple orchard, hot cider, ginger snaps, pulling out the sweaters and wool socks. There's definitely something about it that reminds me that I'm German - loving the Scandinavian sweaters and quiet, dark evenings with candles.

And then, right here in my kitchen, there's the ceramic sun flower face that Vespera brought me from Mexico. It just makes me smile with all it's cheery smile-y-ness and long eyelashes. I love it that Vespera was thoughtful enough to bring us all gifts from her home country and that she thought of just what might fit where in our house. She knew this little smiling face would fit right where it hangs in the kitchen.

I love, love, LOVE this little country church painting that also hangs on our kitchen wall, under the lights that Mane picked out for our kitchen (with the help of Grandpa-Upstairs):

Mango always tells me of how this reminds him of a church he visited in Russia and what a powerful emotional and spiritual experience that was for him. To share in a spiritual experience with people you cannot even speak with because you do not share a common language is an amazing thing. To recognize in them something that you have in yourself is an experience that changes a person. 

I love my yellow kitchen walls, though I would never in a million years have painted a kitchen (or any room) yellow. It's so warm and cozy. When I'm in here in the morning with my cup of coffee and some candles, my wool socks and the radio, I'm so settled and happy. 

Who was kind to you this week?

I've had so many kindnesses bestowed upon me. So many. It's hard to choose.

My good friend kindly went with the spontaneous suggestion to go see the dandelion fountain...and then delivered my child back home for me so that I could get to work!

Mango cooked and cleaned while I was sick. And watched a marathon of Harry Potter movies with Mane & I over the weekend while we were recovering.

Vespera came to visit. And talked about theology with me!

A coworker put up photos of all our families at the front desk to help us all make it through the crazy, busy weeks of summer.

Another coworker offered to pick up lunch for me while she was out.

So many clients expressed gratitude this week!

The clerk at the store actually had a conversation with me, rather than just a "Hello, How are you? Did you find everything you were looking for? Do you want to sign up for a credit card? Have a nice day!"

********************

This blog prompt brings me back to 1000 Gifts. I think of how much joy small gifts of kindness can be, and how much kindness is like an offering of grace. Kindness is a gift in a world where we are often too busy to take time. Kindness slows the world down a little bit.

I wish I could [fill in the blank with at least 5 things]...

I wish I could...

Camp ALL summer! Yep, I sure do. Mostly I think I just want to live in the moment, and I do that more when I'm camping than any other time. The distractions are fewer. The day to day little bits of work that you have to do for cooking and cleaning and taking care of everyone is earthy and grounded.

Read Everything! Every time I go to the library or walk through a book store, I am struck with the impulse to read and learn everything. The library, especially, is like a giant candy store, and I can never get over the fact that I can actually take things home with me. All too often I check out way more than I can actually read.

Make another denim quilt. I say "wish" because I don't think I ever will. I don't actually believe I'll have the patience ever again. But, I sure do love the one I made. And one of the first projects Vespera ever helped me with was tying the corners.

Build Furniture... Again, this is a wish because I just don't know that I'll ever get around to actually doing it. I want more bookcases and little tables and custom pieces that fit in all the right nooks and crannies...

Lead retreats. Yep, I think I'll actually end up doing this one someday. I used to be drawn to the idea of leading marriage retreats. ...Then retreat-style childbirth classes. ...Occasionally I've thought about creative retreats, ladies weekend retreats, grief retreats, and spiritual retreats. I think people need retreats for differing reasons at various times in their lives, especially transitional times, and I'd like to be part of making that happen someday.

Rules of Friendship

This week's blog post prompt: Rules of Friendship...

I am sooooo not a rule follwer...or, um...no, I am not panicking that is is Thursday and I have not completed the blog post yet. Right. Not a rule follower.

But, in all honesty, I think it's in the nature of rules that there will always be exceptions. Humans are human. We don't always fit into nice neat little boxes with a right and a wrong way to do things. That said, I think the questions behind the question is not so much, "What are the rules of friendship," but "What is friendship? What makes a friend a friend?" or maybe, "How does/should a friend behave?"

I'm arguing semantics now in avoidance of the actual blog post...

Hmmm...so, ok...

-> You don't clean your house before a friend comes over. I mean, a real actual true friend...not an acquaintance or a coworker, but an actual friend. A kindred spirit. A real friend doesn't care what your house looks like, and you're supposed to be able to just be yourself around them. No masks. No pretending.

-> Friends have integrity. I always say I married Mango for his integrity. He is who he says he is. He does what he says he's going to do. He is honest about who he is and what he thinks. I think that true friends need this kind of honesty and reliability.

-> Friends make sacrifices for each other...they sacrifice time, energy, and resources without keeping accounts.  I don't mean that anyone should give and give and give and never get anything in return.  I mean more that good friends know that the giving goes both ways. So, they don't keep score. They know that when the time comes, the shoe will be on the other foot.
  
In the words of Solomon, "Two people are better off than one, for they can help each other succeed. If one person falls, the other can reach out and help. But someone who falls alone is in real trouble. Likewise, two people lying close together can keep each other warm. But how can one be warm alone? A person standing alone can be attacked and defeated, but two can stand back-to-back and conquer. Three are even better, for a triple-braided cord is not easily broken." (Ecclesiastes 4:9-12)

-> I think that true, honest, good friends assume the best about each other. They offer each other grace, rather than immediately assuming negative intent or taking offense. In the words of Anne of Green Gables, "If we have friends we should look only for the best in them, and give them the best that is in us, don't you think?"

“If we have friends we should look only for the best in them and give them the best that is in us, don’t you think?” - See more at: http://modernmrsdarcy.com/2011/04/dont-be-a-drama-queen-and-other-lessons-in-friendship-from-anne-shirley/#sthash.AdeJ8L7M.dpuf

-> Good friends can look to each other for honest opinions and sound advice, knowing that these things spring from a place of love and respect. "The heartfelt counsel of a friend is as sweet as perfume and incense." (Proverbs 27:9)

-> Friends accept each other's quirks and even learn to love them.

I could have written this post about different types of friendship - coworkers, acquaintances, neighbors, etc... but I decided to write about what I think the deeper kind of friend looks like - the "kindred spirit," "the bosom friend." Of course, there are all kinds of friends in the world, different types of friendships that serve different purposes. I'm speaking of the gems of friendships, the rare jewels that endure and grow more lovely with time.

What gives me peace when I'm sad/mad...

This week's question: What gives me peace when I'm sad or mad?

This is so, so hard for me. Peace. I've written a lot about peace. Perhaps, one of the reasons I'm drawn to the celebration of Advent every year is because peace is one of the four candles. Perhaps, the reason I sign many emails with "Peace!" is because I hope for it so much, and I think we all find it so elusive. Advent helps me go back to the basics.

"What is peace?" We ask each other every Advent.

Every year the answer is the same. Peace is hard to describe. It isn't really knowing that everything will be ok. Because we don't know if everything will be ok. And it isn't really quiet, though we speak of "peace and quiet." Because we can have peace while listening to some really loud music. We can have peace in the midst of lots of laughing people. We can have peace...in the middle of a storm. In the middle of the sadness. And the madness.

So what is it? From a 2006 blog post - Peace: The Second Candle of Advent:

Me: Now, what is the second candle for?
Mane [age 4]: Peace.
Me: What is peace?
Mane: Calm. I don't know.
Me: Yes, peace is calm on the inside. It is not fighting. It is feeling content inside.

So...yeah...back to the question. How do I get that in the midst of being sad or mad?

One thing that occurs to me is that peace comes with surrender. In the words of Sara Groves:

Remember surrender
Remember the rest
Remember that weight lifting off of your chest
And realizing that it's not up to you and it never was

Remember surrender
Remember relief
Remember how tears rolled down both of your cheeks
As the warmth of a heavenly father came closing in

I want to do that again
Why can't I live there
And make my home
In sweet surrender
I want to do so much more than remember

Remember surrender
Remember peace
Remember how soundly you fell fast asleep
In the face of your troubles your future still shone like the morning sun

Remember surrender
Remember that sound
Of all of those voices inside dying down
But one who speaks clearly of helping and healing you deep within

I want to do that again
Why can't I live there
And make my home
In sweet surrender
I want to do so much more than remember
Remember
Oh surrender

Surrender. Rest. Surrender. Relief. Surrender. Peace.

In letting go, I find peace. In remembering that "it's not up to you and it never was." In releasing control, there is a certain peace.

When I was in college I used to get so angry when then final answer on a topic of philosophy or theology was, "It's a mystery. This is something we can never really understand." I am on a constant quest for answers. I used to think the "mystery" answer was a cop out. But, now, (and maybe this is a sign that I've grown some since then), I find a certain comfort in that answer. When I've worn the questions ragged and beaten my fists against the patient doors of heaven, to fall to my knees and be wrapped in mystery, to sag my tired weight into the vastness of the things I don't know and just admit, "I don't know," is a relief and a comfort.

I don't know.