Blog Moving and New Series

As you know, life is full of change...in an effort to keep up with technology, I have integrated my blog and website at www.marybeasullivan.com/blog. I will no longer be posting on this site.

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On May 1st I will begin a daily series entitled, "Midwife to the Mystery." We live in a (mostly) wonderful world. Yet, sometimes, we find ourselves moving robot-like through our days, numbed and overwhelmed. We can lose sight of the Mystery that is as close as each breath we take.

I invite you to walk with me as we explore simple reflections and/or ways to increase awareness of Mystery in our lives. My hope is that we will balance some of the unhealthy messages we receive about how we should look, feel, spend, etc. with messages about being open to what is, to the I AM . Perhaps increasing our own awareness of the Mystery will help birth greater awareness for others as well.

The first post will consider how our challenges, even tragedies can break us open to love.

"Ring the bells that still can ring
Forget your perfect offering
There is a crack in everything
That's how the light gets in."

Excerpt from the Leaonard Cohen song "Anthem"

If you sign up for the blog's email subscription you will automatically receive the series posts. I appreciate your walking on this new road with me and hope you will share your own experiences and comments! Namaste

Blessings From the Rubble

Heartsong is an annual retreat sponsored by the 1917 Clinic at UAB for people living with HIV/AIDS. I am honored and excited to be attending the retreat as a co-facilitator with Rev. Joe Elmore. This year's theme is "Blessings!," inspired by Rachel Naomi Remen's inspirational book, My Grandfather's Blessings.

In preparation for tomorrow's session "Finding Blessings in Difficult Times," I have been remembering the many times I, or others who I know, have experienced a loss, disappointment, or tragedy and how somewhere under the rubble blessings were uncovered.

And then I recalled a touching story that I heard on NPR about 5th graders in Northridge, California sending letters and drawings to children devastated by the earthquake in Haiti. One letter said, "I wrote this letter to tell you I care about you." Others included poems, or funny stories in hopes of sending cheer. The Northridge children raised more than $1700 for the Red Cross Haitian relief effort and sent markers, pens, and papers to the children.

The children in Haiti were moved by the support from afar. As a gesture of appreciation, they sent back to California a car made from juice bottles and caps, thank you notes for the encouragement, and one young girl sang a song in English praising her new friends as angels.

The students in California were glad to hear back from their Haitian counterparts and impressed with their resourcefulness and courage. Hope for continued relationships sparked by the exchange.

Blessings from the rubble...children from a privileged community reaching out in meaningful ways to those less fortunate; learning about students from another culture, honoring them with dignity, being inspired by them. Children in tragedy being touched by kind strangers and responding with gratitude and creativity...listeners around the world given the opportunity to take a break from the sniping that fills our airwaves to learn from the children.

When was a time that you were going through a hard time and something good came from it? What blessings were you able to find in the rubble?

Namaste

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Calendar Prayer

Let's face it, most of us rarely link prayer with time management, but I am wondering if they are unrelated. Think about it, isn't time one of the most precious gifts we have been given?

How do you treat that gift?

Sometimes it feels as if time slips away like air slowly leaking out of a balloon--at first it is barely noticeable, but before long, the balloon is lifeless, flat. So it can go with our days if we are not careful, mindful of where our minutes are going.

It is Thursday-again. The week is almost over and the "to do's" on my list for this week are still longer than my days. I wonder, "Why?" Am I over committed and there was never any way all of those things could get done? Have I been wasting too much time on the phone or the computer? Did something simply take longer than I expected?

What if I were to take time to notice? What if I were to begin my days with a few minutes of calendar prayer? Would it make a difference if each morning as I plan my day I were to take a few deep breaths, give thanks for this moment, this hour, this day, and asked for wisdom and guidance to use the time I have been given to serve my and the world's greatest good?

I'm gonna give it a try...will you? What works for you in managing this sacred resource?

Namaste

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Lessons from the Couch

The parish hall was full and lively. Purple tablecloths and dramatic vine-like centerpieces adorned each table. Energy in the room was high, and I was truly enjoying the sense of communion with the congregation. The focus of my talk, the 46th Psalm, “Be still and know that I am God.”

Paradoxically, my outward joy masked the truth that underneath the public facade was one worn-out woman--something even I didn’t realize. In the past few months I had nursed my son back from a serious car accident; put our home on and off the market; traveled to California, Georgia, South Carolina, and Tennessee to facilitate programs, receive training, and say “good bye” to a dying family member. Just that day I had driven over 200 miles, facilitated a wisdom circle, delivered soup for our church’s Lenten supper, presented my “Be Still” talk, and packed for an early morning trip to Colorado. Talk about “teaching what we need to learn!”

When I returned from Colorado I was so sick and exhausted for three weeks I only left the couch to go to the doctor or emergency room. I had lived this story before. Burn out is to me what the “check engine” light is for my Prius--a not-so-gentle reminder that I am in need of service. Underneath all of the running around is the fear that "I am not enough." This time I was buying into the lie that I needed more training, more work, more accolades, more money, more fun.

Ironically, the lessons from the couch are coming into focus on Good Friday. The day that Jesus surrenders fully. The day that he commends his spirit to God. How I want to follow Jesus’ lead, open my hands and my heart and release that which keeps me from fully realizing God’s loving Presence in my life. I would love to let this lie of “not enough” die. After a few weeks of forced “sabbatical” I intend to step back into the world with renewed energy and passion and the hope that I will recognize burn-out’s flickering flame before it reaches full blaze.

Optional Exercise: Take some time to consider the following...
What in your life is creating separation from you and God, yourself, or others? Separation from fully experiencing the fullness of your life?

This is a tricky question for most of us. Perhaps some clues about the thought/belief system/habit/addiction that might be limiting your connection would be helpful.

Take a few minutes and consider the following questions designed to help identify what my be your particular "brand" of stumbling block keeping you from experiencing "wholeness." You may want to record your responses in your journal; or you might just want to be still with the questions and offer them as a prayer for ongoing clarity.

We're probably stumbling around a "block" when we experience a sense of having "been here before.” What is a recurrent “theme” or “story” that you tell yourself when you are stressed, anxious, or angry? (Some common examples are, “I have to do everything.” “I am not worthy.” “I must be perfect.” “No one understands me.”)

Often we attempt to “numb” ourselves with TV, computer, food, alcohol, anything to distract us from our uneasy feelings. What do you “cling” to in times of discord?

When we run into a stumbling block, many times there is negative fallout to ourselves, our relationships, our health. What are the harmful consequences to you and others when you believe/act in this way?

When you have let this thought/belief system/habit/addiction go before, what great learning has come? How could you change your stance to one of open-hearted receptivity and open-palmed surrender?

Serving the Music

A few days ago I saw an interview with Celine Dion that struck a chord. She was talking about how when she was younger she used to work hard trying to "make music."

Then she described how her perspective has changed over the years. "I don't know if everybody realizes how powerful music can be. I think it breaks every barrier," she said. "I think God has given me something to work with, a voice, and I'm just trying to serve the lyrics and the music to get messages through."

A powerful, subtle, humble shift.

"Making music" implies willful, self-creation; "Serving music," the open-hearted gesture of co-creating.

When she described the experience of making music, her body and verbal language expressed a sense of "hard work." As she contemplated the idea of serving music, her face softened, even her breathing seemed to slow down. She actually said that it is much easier now.

How often do we find ourselves trying to make something happen...forcing, willful, self-determined MAKING? How would our stance change if we were open, yielding, receiving, humbly SERVING with our gifts?

Namaste

Welcoming the Stranger

Nestled in my favorite green chair, warmed by the fire and MIss White's hand-sewn quilt, I was enjoying an unusually peaceful evening alone. Suddenly the stillness was shattered by a low, snarling growl from Daisy. Hesitantly, I stood up to turn the outside light on when I spotted the object of Daisy's over-zealous protection--a raccoon swinging form one of the bird feeders on the deck.

My involuntary reaction was disgust. Those stupid raccoons make such a mess! Ugh! What a waste of bird seed! I was about to shoo the intruder away when I paused for an instant. Instead of a messy pest I noticed a sweet face staring back at me and returned his gaze. Stillness hovered under the moon-lit sky as we silently watched one another. Looking into his eyes, I began to soften. Where there was repulsion, now attraction. Moments before, yelling at the raccoon seemed the most appropriate response; now that I knew him, that felt like a cruel way to treat a fellow creature.

Enchanted by his masked face and calm response to my presence, I smiled and went inside for the camera. The raccoon compliantly posed as I clicked away--staring directly into the camera. I couldn’t wait to show Malcolm the photos of our late-night visitor. What a contrast from my initial, enraged response.

Practice: Welcoming the Stranger

Sit quietly for a few minutes. Take a few breaths. Relax. Enjoy the quiet. Imagine a sense of spaciousness as you breathe in and out. Consider how you usually respond to strangers. Do you tend to be welcoming, trusting, curious? Are you frightened by people who are different than you? Judgmental of customs and cultures unlike your own? Are you quick to invite someone new into your “circle;” or are you comfortable with your current cadre of companions? Is there a particular person or type of person who you tends to invoke a strong response from you? Who? Why?

Spend a few minutes with how you feel about strangers, or people you think of as “strange.” What would it be like if you took a little time to get to know one person who is currently a stranger to you?

If you would like to develop a habit of welcoming try one of these exercises. In the course of your day, look for, or create an opportunity to reach out to someone you normally would keep at bay. Maybe you could go out of your way to smile at or speak to someone who you normally would ignore. Perhaps there is someone in your life that you have avoided getting to know, would you want to call that person and reach out?

We are all “the stranger” at one time or another. Enjoy the opportunity to “welcome the stranger” and open to the gifts that may unfold.

If you like, share a story of a time when you welcomed a stranger and something unexpected happened. Namaste

When the Snowflakes Fall...

It is snowing in Alabama! Nothing like the blizzard folks are experiencing in other parts of the country. But it is highly unusual to get a dousing of white around here. Usually, if snow falls it is in the middle of the night, the beauty lasts about an hour, then the sun comes out leaving muddy slush in its wake.

Not today. It is REALLY snowing in Alabama!

From my perch in the loft, it feels like I am inside of a snow globe. Whoever shook this one did a great job!! The flakes are dusting the trees and the deck is blanketed in white. Most stunning of all is the menagerie of birds that have invaded the feeders and the trees. I stopped counting the number of finches, cardinals, and LBB's (little brown birds) when I reached thirty. Every opening at the two feeders is occupied, the deck is covered in tiny birds pecking through the snow, and finches decorate the trees like Christmas ornaments.

The birds are acting very strange on this snowy day. They are partying big-time! Even though I filled the feeders this morning, by lunchtime they were empty. Daisy and I walked onto the snowy deck. An airlift of raucous wings flapped toward safety.

As I moved toward the bird seed-filled trash can a tiny goldfinch flew in my face and then landed on a wire inches away. I stooped down and soothingly spoke to him, sure he must be hurt if he wasn't taking flight. He returned my gaze, charmingly turning his tiny head. We lingered in this posture of mutual admiration for quite some time. Snow drenched my hair and I was getting cold, but I didn't want to scare my new friend by lifting the lid to get the seed. Finally, I explained what I was about to do, as if he would understand, and then gently lifted the lid. He stood and watched me fill the feeders, fascinated by the process. When I stood up he finally flew away. I chuckled.

As I was hoisting the feeders back to their spot, my little friend and a few other finches actually danced around my head. Clearly they were drunk with snow! Just as I was about to go inside, there was movement in the trees. About a 100 yards away was a HUGE bird looking out over the snowy lake. I thought it was a hawk, because its back was to me, I wasn't sure.

Thirty minutes, forty five minutes, an hour later that giant bird was still contemplating life from his perch. Sometime later I noticed he was no longer there and thought, I wish I would've seen him fly. Minutes later an enormous owl glided in front of the window--in the middle of the day!

When snowflakes fall in Alabama!

REMEMBERING

I hope you will indulge me with two posts in one day.

How often do we take time to REMEMBER the people who have made a difference in our lives? Take a moment and think back to a time when you were going through a rough patch and someone stepped in to make a difference in a significant way. Maybe it was a teacher who noticed you were having trouble "fitting in" and she helped you feel safe. Or perhaps it was a neighbor who noticed you were sad and she took the time to listen to your troubles. If we stop and think about it long enough the list of kindnesses we have received in our lifetimes are innumerable. Wouldn't it be nice just to remember a few?

So, go ahead, take just minute and REMEMBER someone who has been good to you. What did he or she do that touched you deeply? How did you respond to their kindness? Have you ever told them how they made a difference? Would you want to tell them again? If you haven't ever told that person the impact they have had on you, would you want to now?

If you do, feel free to let us know how it went. REMEMBERING...a way to relive the gift...ACKNOWLEDGING...a way to share the gift!

INTEGRITY

One of the dictionary definitions for "integrity" is, "adherence to moral and ethical principles; soundness of moral character; honesty."

Seems simple enough. Yet if we choose to be vigilant about what we say and do, we might find it is no easy task. Maybe I am just projecting my own shortcomings on all of you .

Recently I have had a few occasions where I NOTICED how I was hoping to wiggle out of "full disclosure." In one case, there were some messy, hard things happening in the relationship and it seemed easier to gloss over them than it was to be straight with the other person. In the short-run that strategy can work, but over time my little "white lies" always tend to pile up into a heap that becomes unmanageable. The gifted psychotherapist, Virginia Satir had a saying about "taking out the trash" every day in relationships. I guess we would have a lot less to clean up if we NOTICED the trash we were about to throw down and avoid making the mess in the first place.

Just the other day I was dealing with someone in a business transaction. When she came to our home I knew we were going to interview other people for the "job." In fact, I intended to tell her that. But when she was sitting there at my kitchen table in the flesh, it felt too uncomfortable to tell her the truth. After a couple of days, I got up the nerve to let her know our plans. She was gracious and understanding, but I could tell she was hurt. I hoped to remember to be more honest from the beginning next time.

This integrity business can be as simple as following up with someone when we say we will, or as big as fidelity in our marriages. I bet it is like lots of things, in order to create a life of integrity, it requires making a habit of choosing to be honest every little step of the way.

Integrity-in our thoughts, our speech, our actions...it takes a LOT of noticing. But hopefully living out our moral and ethical principles will lead to better relationships and better sleep at night!

Thank You Joe!

After a visit with their grandparents, Brendan and Kiki told me that Grandpa Joe and Grandma Bonnie were hoping I would visit sometime. I had not seen them since divorcing their son eight years ago. Their invitation, a testimony to the power of love and forgiveness over enmity and pride.

A year ago Joe was diagnosed with cancer. He has undergone treatments, is doing pretty well, but one of the tumors is inoperable. Time is of the essence for all of us, but there is nothing like the cruel clarity of a terminal diagnosis to remind us of our limited supply of moments.

This week I chose to take Bonnie and Joe up on their offer to visit. They greeted me warmly, graciously. We caught up on family, health, laughed about old times. It was an easy and relaxed visit.

When it was time to say "good bye" Joe stood up from his chair and gestured for me to come to him. We stood facing one another. Faces inches apart, we looked into each other's moist eyes with intimacy traditionally reserved for lovers...simply, silently, holding one another. The moment, especially dear since we knew this may be our last together.

Joe placed his hands on my cheeks; I noticed how crystal-like his blue eyes were, filled with liquid love. He pressed his palms more firmly against my face as if he was imploring me to listen, really listen, and spoke with urgency.

"Mary, God gives us all gifts. You have some beautiful gifts. Gifts the world desperately needs. Don't hold back anymore. Do you hear me? No holding back. Go out and share those gifts. Don't play small; just spread your gifts out in the world. No holding back. It's time to share what God has given you. Do you hear me?"

Tears streaming down both of our cheeks, I nodded a silent vow; a wordless promise to heed his call. We embraced, expressed our love, and Bonnie walked me to the car. Driving past the room where Joe was sitting, I stopped and waved a furious, cheerful goodbye.

Seems like I have been waiting a long time for someone to lay hands on my head and invite me to profess my vows. I had a picture of what that would look like...in a church, Bishop, family gathered, the whole shebang. But you know what? Perhaps it has already happened in that sun-soaked family room.

There is a stark contrast in Joe's urgency for me to "FLY! FLY" and the institutional drone to "WAIT! WAIT!" Thank you Joe and God bless you! You are so right, we ALL have gifts to share. What good does it do to withhold them? Is there a part of you that has been holding back, afraid to share what you have to offer? Let's fly while we still can!

Gifts of the Spirit

“Now there are varieties of gifts, but the same Spirit,

and there are varieties of services, but the same Lord;” 1 Corinthians 12:4-5

Miss Raz must have sensed my confusion when she sidled up next to me at the table littered with sign up sheets. Or, perhaps she waited there skillfully culling volunteers. “Hey Kid. Why don’t you join me on the altar guild?” Clueless as to what this meant, but vain enough to do anything for anyone who called me “Kid,” I scribbled my name on the sheet.

That first Saturday morning I joined the other women who patiently explained to me every detail that goes into preparing the altar for service. Ms. Raz confidently directed her troops. Martha remained close to me, easing my anxiety with her humor. When I forgot the proper name of an item she smiled and whispered, “Or you can call it the ‘holy napkin.’” Candles were re-filled with oil and gently wiped down. Before they could be placed on the altar, candelabras were presented to Ms. Raz who made sure they were lined up, eyeing them with drill sergeant-like precision. Patti and Phyllis arranged flowers with conscientious care, and what deceptively seemed effortless ease.

After our tasks were complete, Ms. Raz brought me to the back of the nave and we admired the group’s work. She noticed that candles on the altar were a bit out of alignment and went up to fix them, calling back to me, making sure all was in place. I admired the artistry and love that had transformed the sanctuary.

The next morning when we arrived for church, I had a new appreciation for all of the work that goes into creating sacred space for our worship service. From the procession of the choir, through the readings, Bob’s sermon, and the guitar music during the Eucharist, I was aware of all the previously unappreciated gifts that had been poured out into the creation of a meaningful service. The faithful care of so many to prepare the space for our hearts to open to God.

When Lewis’ beautiful additions to the altar appeared a few weeks later, I marveled at his self-less offering in spite of physical pain. Perhaps this well-choreographed effort is what Paul meant when he wrote, “All these are activated by one and the same Spirit, who allots to each one individually just as the Spirit chooses.”

Prayer

Loving Creator, thank you for the gifts of the Spirit. May I appreciate the gifts in others and generously share the gifts you have given me. Amen.

Switching Lenses

“Do you still enjoy what you’re doing?” I asked Theresa as she changed out camera lenses. “Funny you should ask. I have been re-thinking some things.” She replied. “Really, how long have you been a photographer?” “Well, I started when I was 17 and I’m 52. What’s the math on that?” I was intrigued, Theresa seemed so established in her work, why would she be “rethinking some things?”

While Theresa moved adeptly about her photography studio, checking lighting, adjusting backgrounds, she told her story. “This economy, it’s been hard on everybody. I just never thought I would have to worry about my livelihood. But when folks don’t know how they’re going to pay the rent or buy food, they sure aren’t gonna be paying for pictures. It’s been tough.” I shared some of my own experiences with professional challenges and we exchanged that look of mutual misery.

"I told Daddy just the other day, ‘I realize these last few years I’ve been grieving.‘ Mary, it just isn’t like me to be depressed. But I think between the digital age and the economy, this has all hit me real hard.” We stood silently shaking our heads in agreement. “But you know what, I’m getting ready for a career change.” My head popped up, “You are? What kind of career change?”

“Well, I’ve decided if you can’t beat ‘em, join ‘em. I’m taking classes on how to design websites. I LOVE it! I LOVE working with the computer! Imagine how great it would be to have someone who could design your website and take professional pictures to put on that site! Also, I’m teaching classes for folks who want to learn how to use their digital cameras better. Some for beginners, some for advanced. I have more energy than I’ve had in years.” Astounded, I stood watching Theresa, inspired by her ability to listen deeply to what life was offering her.

How often do we feel a sense of sadness over things changing, a desire to hold on to “what has been,” and struggle to find a way forward? Theresa’s story is powerful because she was able to shift her focus and allowed a fresh vision for her life, new possibilities, new adventure to come into the picture.

When I called Theresa to ask if I could share her story, she was surprised and responded, “Well of course. The way I see it, business is God’s gift to me to be given back. If something I’ve said or done will help someone else, I’m glad to be a part of it.” And then she added, “When I now think of the last several years and the despair they brought. There were days when I thought I was living through the worst thing possible. But you know, now I look back on where I was and where it brought me, to THIS day and I can truly say, ‘I wouldn’t have missed it for the world.’ We are always better after the storm.”

Practice: Changing Lenses

Sit quietly for a few minutes, either in your sacred space or outside in the open. Take a few deep breaths and scan your body. Is there a place where you are gripping, clinging, holding on tight? If so, place your hand there and simply breathe into that space. You might ask if it has a name. Silently breathe with the intention of releasing the clinging. If it feels comfortable ask yourself, “What am I holding on to that is causing pain?” Give yourself the gift of a few more deep breaths, feeling the heat from your palm on the spot you have located. Linger with this for awhile, breathing in, breathing out. After the tension dissolves, release it.

Take a few moments to honor whatever grief or sadness may have come up for you in this exercise. If there is something that is troubling you deeply, it may take a while for the sadness to subside, for you to be able to release your grip. Maybe you would like to close with a prayer. Here is an example or, or you may wish to create your own. “Loving Creator, thank you for your faithful, imminent presence in my life. I release to you this sadness (name it?) and commit to the intention of keeping my eyes open to the new paths that are in front of me. Amen.”

The F Word

OK-most of us try hard not to say it out loud and many of us do a great job of avoiding it, but it is time to have an honest discussion about the "F word."

It's just that the word has been given such a bad rap...I think it is misunderstood. It is truly the genesis of things being brought to life-isn't that a good thing?

For some of us, avoiding it causes more harm than good. We pretend it isn't there. Distracting ourselves with unimportant tasks when in fact we should be FOCUSING. Yes, the "F Word"--focus. What did you think it was????

Where are you focusing your energy these days? Do you have a clear idea of what is most important to you and FOCUSING your time, money, and talents in that direction? If not, you might want to consider taking a few moments to make a list of the top 3 things you want to get done this year. Keep the list close to your desk, stick it on the mirror. Whatever works best for you to remember how to manage your time and FOCUS your life.

Well, this has been a fun distraction. Now I am going to return to FOCUSING on the book I have been working on...one of my top 3's this year. What are yours??

Ave Maria

Maybe it is the 60 degree weather; or the fact that we still don't have our tree up; more than likely it has to do with Brendan's Thanksgiving accident. In any case, "it" is my lack of traditional Christmas spirit. I cannot remember a Saturday after Thanksgiving that wasn't spent trimming the tree. For the past five Christmases, Malcolm and I have picked out our tree from a sweet old farmer who hauls trees into downtown Cullman. The first year we met him, eyes moist with tears he told us that his daughter-in-law and grandson had died in a car accident just weeks before. We wept with him...treasuring our tree all the more. Every year since then, we have loyally visited his lot, inquiring about his widowed son, grateful for God's healing in their lives.

Yesterday after church I chose to forego the beloved tree search and asked Malcolm to drop me off at the grocery store so I could shop while he picked out the tree. When he picked me up and shared tales of our old friend, I half-heartedly listened. Something is different this year. Those old traditions seem hollow, rote.

And yet, meaningful new ways to celebrate the season are taking hold. Days spent making prayer beads for friends...long, recuperative walks with Brendan...Advent chants and prayers bubbling up from a newly discovered well. I find myself singing, "Come Light of Life into my heart...Come Light of Life into my heart..." A little ditty I created for an Advent workshop...sitting around a circle with 25 wonderful people chanting, "Come Light of Life into my heart..." that was powerful.

I have been Reading and re-reading the story in Luke when Mary was visited by the Angel Gabriel. What courage it must've taken for that fourteen-year-old girl to risk her future with Joseph, her very life by saying, "Here am I, the servant of the Lord."

Soon after her encounter with Gabriel, she hauled her barely pregnant self to visit her cousin...why? To help? To hide? I wonder if we haven't sanitized Mary to be the model of motherhood and perhaps missed of the significance of her response to the role she agreed to. Upon arriving at Elizabeth's home, Mary spoke the words of the Magnificat (listed below, also known as the Song of Mary). Look at these words from her heart...Mary is the bearer of her Jewish social justice tradition! Yet so often we have focused on her purity, her virginal qualities. I wonder if that obsession with her virginity isn't reflective of the church's discomfort with women's sexuality...a distraction from the powerful role model she is meant to be.

When we consider Mary and her preparation for the birth of Jesus, courage, powerful surrender, and service come to mind. This Advent season, how can we embody her in a more personal way? Not necessarily in the way we have been taught to regard Mary...as submissive to the point of passive; but rather as an empowered woman giving birth to the Love that will save us from ourselves.

I have more questions than answers, but perhaps this lack of enthusiasm with the traditional Christmas preparation is more indicative of something new stirring than it is of a lack of love and respect for tradition. Hmmmm--maybe that is what this season is all about after all.

Advent Blessings to you and yours! May the Light of Life come into your hearts!

The Magnificat (Luke 1:46-55 NRSV)

And Mary said, ‘My soul magnifies the Lord, ⁴⁷ and my spirit rejoices in God my Saviour, ⁴⁸for he has looked with favour on the lowliness of his servant.
Surely, from now on all generations will call me blessed; ⁴⁹for the Mighty One has done great things for me,
and holy is his name. ⁵⁰His mercy is for those who fear him
from generation to generation. ⁵¹He has shown strength with his arm;
he has scattered the proud in the thoughts of their hearts. ⁵²He has brought down the powerful from their thrones,
and lifted up the lowly; ⁵³he has filled the hungry with good things,
and sent the rich away empty. ⁵⁴He has helped his servant Israel,
in remembrance of his mercy, ⁵⁵according to the promise he made to our ancestors,
to Abraham and to his descendants for ever.’

Angels Everywhere

Recently our son Brendan was in a serious car accident. Thankfully, he is home and recovering well. Often when tragedy hits, we are at the mercy of strangers. The phone call came the evening before Thanksgiving. We were thrust into a world we didn't wish to enter. Mercifully, we encountered angels everywhere.

It was dusk when I rushed out of my car, running toward the flashing lights. A chorus of voices called from a porch, "Mom, mom...he's over here. He's alright." Malcolm had arrived ahead of me. He and the family that lived in the home surrounding Brendan. A woman wrapped Brendan in a blanket, apologizing for the pink princess design. She offered to take him inside.

After arriving at the hospital in Cullman, we were told that Brendan would have to be airlifted to UAB's trauma unit--he had broken a vertebrae. Nauseous, I angsted over whether we should stay with Brendan until the helicopter arrived, or to get a head start so we could get to UAB soon after Brendan would. The ER nurse assured us she would stay with him every minute until the chopper came and call us as soon as he took off. Then she touched Malcolm's elbow, "Sir, you have one job right now and that is NOT to try and beat that helicopter, because you won't and your son needs you to get there safely." Hating to leave, we knew Brendan was in caring hands.

Angels everywhere...the chaplain waiting for Brendan to arrive and stay with him until we could get to UAB...the nurse who sat with me when I needed to leave the room and catch my breath...the friend, who is a medical professional, who stayed in the ER well past midnight, protectively overseeing Brendan's care...friends and strangers, earning wings with tenderness beyond duty...meeting our questions, our eyes, our hearts with compassionate care.

Brendan arrived at his room around 3:30 am. A team of nurses and nursing assistants converged on him, mothering, soothing, kidding with him...reassuring both of us, "He's gonna be alright. These young healthy ones, they do great!"

I asked for a washcloth to bathe him. One of the assistants came back with a pan of warm, soapy water and a pile of washcloths. She held out her hand with a white cloth and my mind flashed on kneeling at the rail, hands outstretched to receive the Eucharist. Gently she smiled at me, "Mama, you get on that side and I'll be on this one. We gonna do this together." Then she turned to Brendan, smoothed his forehead with her thumb, "We gonna take good care of you baby. Don't you worry. You are a sweet boy...Your mama and I are gonna take real good care of you. You had a hard night, but it's gonna get better. I promise you. It's gonna get better. Just relax, we'll get this stuff off of you. Just relax." I have heard it said, "Every breath you take is the breath of God." This angel whose name I do not even remember, reminded me to breathe...that there was a Loving Presence among us, sustaining us...whose hands were holding out washcloths like Communion wafers.

Ours was truly a Thanksgiving filled with blessings. For that we are grateful. Namaste

Money, Money, Money...

Sometimes people believe since I spent the early part of my career as a financial planner, I have some magical financial gifts. If only...I struggle as much or more than the next person with my relationship to money. In fairness, those early years might have ruined me. It was the late 1980's and I was instructed to work only with people earning six figures and worth over $1 million. I was surrounded by extravagant lifestyles...travel, clothes, fine wine and dining. Oh, those were the days!

Many of my wealthy clients were very happy...had families they loved and meaningful work. These folks seemed to have a healthy attitude about their money--they enjoyed it, but they weren't defined by it. There was an openness about them...with their resources and with their hearts. Working with them was rewarding and enjoyable. They seemed to appreciate the gifts they had been given.

Others seemed to have insatiable appetites for more, and a fierce determination to hold on to what they had--no matter what the cost. I remember a young surgeon earning $450,000 per year. He had every luxury you might expect for someone in his situation, but he was overly-concerned about losing his money. It was as if holding on tight caused him great pain. His wealth was a source of stress, instead of relief. When I reviewed his tax return and saw he only donated $1,500 per year to charity, I was disappointed (and judgmental). This same man repeatedly cancelled appointments and had little respect for my time. Ultimately, I fired him as a client.

When Malcolm traveled to Zambia five years ago he was deeply touched by the generous spirit of the people there. Even though most earned less than $1 per day, they seemed to be living joyfully. Young orphans in tattered clothes prayed fervently with Malcolm, they laughed and played on the grounds of the Catholic Convent they called "home." A woman living in nothing more than a tin shack smiled broadly when she learned Malcolm was a minister and wanted him to know, "God has been good to me!" Families destroyed by AIDS would take in yet another mouth to feed, sharing the little that they had.

This money thing, it is tricky for many of us. I am not saying we should live as if we were in a third world economy. Thankfully, money allows us to have and do many great things. It can also own us, become an obsession, hold too high of a place in our hearts. Tangled in the web of our money beliefs are messages from our parents, cultural norms, past successes and failures, fears about the economy, desires to look and feel good. Some of the most important decisions we make have to do with how we choose to earn, save, give, and spend our money.

I wonder if our African brothers and sisters don't have a lesson for us about smiling in the sun, regardless of what we are wearing, giving thanks for the blessings we do have, and making room for those in need.

Could it be that our relationship with money reflects something deeper in our hearts? How does our relationship with money impact our other relationships? Financial freedom is a term that has been defined many ways. I wonder if it doesn't have something to do with appreciating what we have, living within our means, and sharing the gifts we have been given with great joy. I wonder if financial freedom isn't about appreciating the ebb and flow...receiving...giving...receiving...giving.

I invite you to take some time and consider:

• How would I define my relationship with money?
• In what way(s) does money impact relationships with others?
  
• What does financial freedom mean to me?
• What one step could I take today to better align my money with my values?

Namaste

The Holy Mystery

Franciscan monk and contemplative, Richard Rohr spoke in Atlanta last Saturday. Over 500 people filled the pews at St. Phillip Episcopal Cathedral. Humble and humorous, Fr. Richard kept us spell-bound for hours. Below are just a few morsels from the ten pages of notes that I took.

• The dualistic mind doesn't like mystery. When we have a new experience we divide the field...that which we agree with and like--we welcome. The negative, problematic, and different--we eliminate.
  
• To be non-dualistic is to hold the paradox, the dark and the light. (way oversimplified, but gives a taste of his teaching on this)
  
• The dualistic mind is not bad, it allows us to read, learn, etc., but it can not go far enough.
  
• We need a Capernican Revolution...just as we learned that the earth is not the center of the universe; the soul has to suffer the the same displacement...God is the center, not us.
• People who have love of God have tremendous humility...when you meet the Holy One, you know that you don't know.
• Karl Rahner said that we should not use the word "God" for fifty years. Instead, we should use the term, "Holy Mystery" because to name It is to act as if we understand It.
• From David White poem, "What to Remember When Waking," "what you can plan is too small for you to live."
• The Reformation was oppositional...contemplation died in the Reformation because it focused on opposition.
• What we call contemplation today, was simply called prayer.
• The "third eye" is a Christian term.
  
• The Enlightenment wasn't very enlightening.
• The dualistic mind is not a joyful mind.
• You are present when head space, heart space, and gut space can open at the same time...keep mind space open...don't form your conclusions...do not judge. (notes for the heart and body opening were too long to simplify, sorry!)
• Find the gift of your soul and find a way to give this gift. It usually doesn't involve making money.

If you would like to learn more about Richard Rohr and his work you may go to the website for the Center for Action and Contemplation. He is truly a transformational teacher. Namaste

Out of the Mouths of Babes

"What was your disappointing news Mom?" Brendan asked. After I told him he wondered, "What will you do now?"

"I don't know. I am too sad, mad, and hurt to make decisions right now." I replied, "Experience tells me this is the time to wait, not the time to act."

A long pause followed.

"You know that comtemplative prayer you do? You might want to spend some time with that." He suggested. Then after another pause he added, "And a lot of people are going to think they know what you should do, but only you can know that mom. Just remember that."

AHHHHHH, and the student becomes the teacher. Namaste

Community Carries Us

At dinner, I was surrounded by long-time friends...kidding with one another in the way only those who know us best can.

Each of the women at the table was carrying some form of pain...dreams dashed...marriages sputtering toward collapse...adult children making poor choices...parents and pets dying.

And still there was laughter...HOLY LAUGHTER.

And yes there were tears...HOLY TEARS.

Perhaps this is what is meant by church. Honest, loving community carrying one another, honoring the Holy Mystery with our reverence and presence for one another. Namaste

Dance of the Fog

A single lamp lit the great room...darkness shrouding the house. During morning prayers, the shadows had parted...opening to grey/blue skies accented with pink...fog rising from the water.

Earthbound clouds shift and move with each breath. To stand watch over their dance is to remember the fluidity and fragility of life. If I walk away for even a moment, I risk missing some miraculous, momentary formation.

In the summer the lake is a cool respite from scorching Southern heat...busy with boats, parties on docks, children squealing with delight. Fall brings cold feet on the deck, rose-breasted grosbeaks at the feeder, and the dance of the morning fog. Namaste